Entries Tagged as 'Articles'

Coping with Tomato Overload

September. This is a special time of year, just right for the Queen of the Garden, the tomato.

So enraptured have we become over this cousin to deadly nightshade that we have cultivated no fewer than 2,700 varieties of tomato, in a rainbow of colors and a seemingly endless assortment of sizes and shapes. Volumes of history have been written about it, Louis Armstrong sang about mispronouncing it, and everyone seems to know that people used to think it was poisonous (some actually are, and the leaves and stalks of most are toxic).

The tomato has been prized for its versatility, cherished for its supposed aphrodisiac qualities, and utilized as a projectile in Vaudeville. Those aerodynamic qualities are still exploited in Buol, Spain, where the last Wednesday in August becomes an orgy of tomato wallowing, ostensibly in honor of the town’s patron saint, San Luis Bertran. Since the fight is usually a “boys vs. girls” affair, it rapidly becomes something of a wet T-shirt contest.

In this country we have come to be a bit more respectful of the tomato, but we do have our moments of degradation. Chief among these is the curious American obsession with eating out of season. This has resulted in those flavorless, mealy pink baseballs that are shipped green from Mexico, force-ripened with ethylene gas in train cars en route to Chicago, then passed off as tomatoes at your local grocery store in February. The tomato is one of those vegetables that, like asparagus, are best eaten during a particular season, and the season is upon us.

Read the whole story at Huffington Post.

Austrian Wine 101: Part 1 of 3

Editor’s note: This is the first in a three part series on the wines of Austria.

One side of my family is Scots, and although they do make some truly fine libations, they know next to nothing about wine. The other side though, my father’s side, emigrated from in and around what now is Austria, not unlike a large percentage of Iowans’; ancestors, and there, they know wine.

Now most Americans, if they know of Austrian wine at all, they know Eiswein. Eiswein is a delightful concoction, screechingly sweet, that is the result of allowing the grapes to first dry up (“raisinate”), and then to freeze on the vine. This concentrates the sugars, resulting in a strong but very sweet wine. Tasty as a cordial, but not well suited to accompany Austria’s hearty fare.

The winegrowing regions of Austria all are on the eastern slopes, where the Alps recede into Slovakia and Hungary (fine winemakers in their own rights). They are Lower Austria, called this despite being north of the other regions; Vienna, where some vineyards overlook the skyline of this ancient yet cosmopolitan city; and Burgenland, home of the massive yet shallow Lake Neusiedl.

Read the whole story at the Iowa City Press-Citizen

One winery from two vineyards || Ladera Winery and a Stuffed Pork Loin Recipe

With autumn on the horizon, I always begin daydreaming about big, luscious, weighty reds that are emblematic of the cool, misty evenings of October with all the leaves on the ground. I yearn for the crackling fireplace, sweetie by my side, dog at my feet, as we ponder the intricacies of a carefully crafted California Cabernet.

This year, a dear friend has turned my attention to the wines of Ladera. They specialize in just the sort of libation I want to pour beside the fire, focusing almost exclusively on Cabernet from just two proprietary vineyards: Howell Mountain and Lone Canyon. Vineyard manager Gabriel Reyes and winemaker Karen Culler are busy there right now, as harvest and crush approaches at the end of a troublesome growing season. Still I have no doubt that the end product, which we won’t see for a few years and probably will want to age for a few more, will be stellar. As evidence, I offer the 2006 Ladera Cabernet Sauvignon Howell Mountain

via One winery from two vineyards | press-citizen.com | Iowa City Press Citizen.

Terroir, ‘the very soul of the wine’

There is perhaps no more confusing and contested word in the world of wine than “terroir” (pronounced “tare-WAHR”). This is probably because there is no direct translation from the French; no one word in English that means exactly the same thing.

Terroir is, quite simply, the totality of a wine's origin. It is the term for describing the effects on the wine of such disparate yet interrelated aspects as soil, weather, wind, climate, water and all the minutia that make a wine characteristically Bordeaux (or Mendoza, or Napa, or Marlborough, etc.). It is the overall placeness of the wine. Since the etymology of the word is from the French (by way of Latin) “terre” meaning “earth,” perhaps the closest we could get in English would be “earthness.”

Every region, and every subregion, and every individual vineyard has characteristics that make it unique. It may have soil of a certain type and subsoil of this or that mineral. Some vineyards are parched dry, others have moisture but drain well. If they are too wet, they are likely to be turned to some other use. Many are on hillsides, which affects not only drainage but also exposure to sun and wind depending on the face of the slope. Some wind makes for strong, durable vines, but too much can buffet and damage grape clusters. Direct sun ripens grapes quickly, but they need frequent cooling so the sugars develop character and intensity.

Read the rest in Table Wine @ the Iowa City Press Citizen

Table Wine: See what real hard cider is all about

A while ago, I regaled you with the true story of John Chapman, a.k.a. Johnny Appleseed, and his actual motives as more of a land speculator and hard cider maker than the happy-go-lucky wandering environmentalist we watched in filmstrips and Disney-animated cartoons in elementary school. He was a success because for many years in pre- and post-colonial times, the drink of choice in the U.S. was hard cider (more so than beer, wine or whiskey).

Its popularity in the U.S. waned, especially after the increase in German immigration, bringing with them their expertise in brewing beer from the abundant grains of the Great Plains. In northern Spain, however, the passion for Sidra, as the Spanish call hard cider, never went out of style. This despite the inexplicable decades-long banning of its production by Generalisimo Francisco Franco after the Spanish Civil War. It was especially true in the north, in the Basque and Galician regions, where the best Sidra is still made today.

The best Sidra is made from one ingredient: Apples. Today many large-scale producers add things such as residual sugar, artificial carbonation, grape juice or preservatives. The finest is still nothing more than fermented apple juice, served fresh and slightly chilled.

via See what real hard cider is all about | press-citizen.com | Iowa City Press Citizen.

Thrill o’the Grill: Wrap It Up!

If you are looking for an easy way to impress your guests at you backyard grill, here’s a simple trick that’s sure to make your favorite salmon fans drool: wrap it in banana leaves.

A classic method in tropical climes for centuries, this method is still relatively unknown in the States, but we are familiar with some methods that operate on the same principle, which uses a grill’s high heat on an enveloped piece of meat, fish or poultry to steam it in its own juices.  Many use foil, or multiple sheets of wet newspaper, or cook sweet corn while it’s still in the husk (popular here in Iowa).

The advantage of the banana leaves is that you get the best of both worlds: the healthy, juicy speed of steam with the rich aroma and flavor of smoke from the grill.  Plus there’s no sticking to the grill, despite the lack of added fat.

Banana leaves are easy to find in just about any Asian grocery, and many Mexican bodegas carry them as well.  They usually come frozen, but they thaw very quickly just sitting on your counter, or overnight in the refrigerator, and I have re-frozen leftovers two or three times with no noticeable loss of quality. [Read more →]

Paella: From Tradition to Simplicity

Perhaps no dish conjures up more images of Spain than paella. Steeped in history and distinctive spices, to prepare this dish is to summon the soul of Spain and the spirit of her people.

For the uninitiated, paella (pronounced “pie-AY-ya”) is kind of a rice casserole, traditionally prepared in a special kind of pan (from which it takes its name) over an open fire. And it’s prepared by men.

Food carries a very strong cultural imperative in Spain, and customs are not swept away merely for the sake of political correctness. Throughout Spain, there are exclusive all-male clubs dedicated entirely to cooking and to the pleasures of the table.

Paella has at least 400 years of history, and its origins are in the province of Valencia, on the southeast coast. There, they grow the medium-grain Valencia rice that absorbs flavors wonderfully and is the key to the dish. The first paellas were made by peasants, using their native rice and whatever was available–often snails, onions, and that curious import from the New World, the tomato. [Read more →]

The Secret of True ‘Cue || Nourish Network

No type of cooking inspires as much passion, competition, obsession, and plain old American hometown pride as barbecue. There are local, regional, and national ‘cue contests that bring together hundreds of pathologically devoted cooks and thousands of BBQ-scarfing chowhounds to debate about which wood to use and to lie about their recipes.

Barbecue may, in fact, be the original way to cook. Historians believe man’s ancestors first ate cooked meat by scavenging in the aftermath of forest fires. More recently, Spanish conquistadors “exploring” tropical islands were fascinated by the aromas coming from the small green-wood grills New World natives called barbacoa. From these origins came the huge variety of barbecue that exists around the world. No other country, though, pursues the ‘cue with such passionate abandon as the United States.

via The Secret of True ‘Cue | Nourish Network.

Super-sizing the Last Supper || latimes.com

An unusual study looks at the food portions in artistic depictions of the Last Supper throughout history. The apostles have eaten better and better over the years, scholars say.

Christian faith holds several acts of “super-sizing” to be miracles accomplished by Jesus Christ — a handful of fish and loaves of bread expanded to feed thousands; a wedding feast running low on wine suddenly awash in the stuff. Now a new study of portion expansion puts Jesus once more at the center.In a bid to uncover the roots of super-sized American fare, a pair of sibling scholars has turned to an unusual source: 52 artists’ renderings of the New Testament’s Last Supper.

Their findings, published online Tuesday in the International Journal of Obesity, indicate that serving sizes have been marching heavenward for 1,000 years.

via Last Supper helpings have grown – latimes.com.

Blue Plate Special: Chilled Sorrel Soup

Among the foods that gardeners and gastronomes fawn over, yet others rarely even know, stands sorrel.  An early spring green with brash lemony flavor that comes from an abundance of oxalic acid, it is a powerful addition to soups and sauces, and is tasty in salads when picked young.

Sorrel is classified in the genus Rumex, and its origins lie somewhere in what is now Russia, where the Ural Mountains divide Asia from Europe.  It was well known in Roman times, though not cultivated since it was plentiful in the wild.  Culinary historians find it falling in and out of favor throughout Europe in the Middle Ages, and it seemed to do a curious dance over the English Channel as at times the French preferred it, then the English more so, then back again.  It was popular in the court of King Henry VIII, then all but eradicated from the British Isles by the late 1800s when it had danced over to the US.

Still by the middle of the 20th century and even today most of the time, if you want sorrel in America you have to grow it yourself.  Thankfully, very few things are easier to cultivate.  It loves this bizarre spring we’ve had, with cool sunny day alternating with lots of rain.  And it’s a perennial, so once you have it, it’s there to stay.  It has no pest problems since that oxalic acid is a great natural defense, and the yield is quite high because you can keep clipping it all spring, and harvest again in the fall.  A single sorrel planting can yield well for eight or ten years before needing to be replanted.

Plant sorrel seed in early spring in rich composted soil about a half-inch deep and six inches apart.  When the plants are seven or eight inches high, thin them to 12 inches apart, and make sure they stay well watered.  As they grow, cut the leaves for use and wait for what seems like just a minute before the new leaves jump back up.  Later in the summer, you’ll see the buds of rust-red flowers begin to appear.  Pinch these off unless you want more seed, else you’ll see little yield in the fall.

After three or four years, dig up the plants and split them at the root.  Give a few to your friends and plant the rest in another sunny, fertile part of the garden for a few more years.  It’s that easy.

In the kitchen, sorrel matches its ease of cultivation with simple versatility.  The young leaves add a potent zing to baby green salads.  As they get older, they leaves are popular in fish dishes, classically shad or pike.  Anything that likes lemon will like sorrel, so veal, chicken and pork dishes can benefit from it as well.  Perhaps the most popular use is this eye-opening chilled sorrel soup, perfect for your first lunch on the patio:

Chilled Sorrel Soup

2 cups (packed) sorrel leaves, stemmed
2 shallots, peeled
2 cups cold chicken stock (vegetable may be substituted)
8 ounces crème fraîche (sour cream can substitute)
1/3 cup heavy cream
Salt and white pepper to taste
Fresh tarragon or mint (for garnish)

In a blender or food processor, chop the sorrel and shallot to a fine puree.  Gradually add the stock and continue to blend, stopping occasionally to scrape down the sides of the bowl, until all the stock is mixed in.

Add the crème fraîche and the cream and pulse lightly until just incorporated.  Season to taste with salt and pepper, then chill one hour to overnight.  Serve very cold garnished with tarragon or mint.  If desired you could also add more crème fraîche, some croutons, even an ice cube.