Bonus Farmstand Anecdote: A Tale of Three [Crystal] Wineglasses

Yesterday afternoon at the Farmstand, as I was mopping the back-of-house floor and prepping to close, a thin old man plunked both elbows on the cheese case counter and yelled, "Hey, Lady!" in a gravelly south Philly accent. I gave the mop handle a cathartic squeeze, spun around, and said, "How can I help you, sir?" with the sweetest, most hospitable smile I could muster under the circumstances.

He was disheveled in a stained short-sleeve button-down shirt and his face was very stern as he held up a medium-sized Whole Foods Market bag with one hand. 

"Do you like wine?" It was more of an interrogation than a friendly conversation-starter, so I nodded cautiously, waiting for the craziness to rear its head. 

"Here. Want some wine glasses?" He placed the bag on the countertop and nudged it towards me. Inside I discovered four Chardonnay glasses wrapped carefully in plastic shopping bags. 

When he realized that all I had to offer in return was a vacuous stare, he gave me the slightest smile and said (or, rather, urged), "Go ahead! Take them! My sister-in-law pushed them off on me this morning and told me to go find somebody to give 'em to...so I came to the market and you're the first happy person I've seen all day. They're not crap. Nice stuff. You look like you'd appreciate 'em."

And then he just left. When I yelled a "Thank you, sir!" at his back he gave me a wave of dismissal, leaving me to unwrap the glasses in bewilderment. One had broken during his travels, but the other three were in perfect condition. And when I traced their rims with a wet finger, they harmonized in all their fine crystal glory! Not crap, indeed. 

Spring Veggie Frittata (with asparagus, radishes, spring garlic, and mint)

John is at a conference in Minneapolis this week, and although I miss him like crazy (resorting nightly to unrequited discussions with his 13-year-old cocker spaniel, Brandy), there is one delicious up-side—a whole frittata just for me!

I made this one on Sunday night with sharp chèvre from Shellbark Hollow Farm and the perkiest spring veggies I could find at the Farmstand (spring garlic, red radishes, mint, and, of course, asparagus), and it's been my lunch for the last few days, paired with baby-spinach salad and cherry tomatoes. For the richest flavor and most vivid color I strongly recommend using eggs from pasture-raised hens and the freshest, locally-grown produce you can find. If you can't find spring garlic, scallions are also delicious, and if you're sick of asparagus (though I can't imagine why), swap in some fresh kale, chard, or spinach.

Spring Veggie Frittata (adapted from The Kitchn)

Ingredients:
1/2 bunch asparagus, tough ends snapped off
3 or 4 medium red radishes, trimmed
1 small bunch spring garlic
Olive oil
Kosher salt and freshly-ground black pepper
6 eggs (preferably from pasture-raised hens)
3 ounces soft goat cheese (chèvre), crumbled
1/4 cup minced fresh mint leaves
1 or 2 dashes Sriracha sauce, or more to taste

Directions:
Heat the oven to 350°F. Chop the asparagus into 1/4-inch pieces, and finely mince the radishes. Slice the spring garlic. Place a 10-inch oven-safe skillet over medium-high heat and add a drizzle of olive oil. Add the radishes to the pan and cook them until tender, about 5 minutes. Add the asparagus and spring garlic, and sauté the vegetables for 2 minutes. Sprinkle lightly with salt and pepper and remove the pan from the heat.

In a large bowl, beat the eggs. Stir in the cooked vegetables, goat cheese, mint, and Sriracha.

Return the 10-inch skillet to medium heat and, when hot, add a generous swirl of olive oil to the pan. Pour in the egg mixture and turn the heat down to low. Cook for 10 minutes, or until the bottom of the eggs have become quite firm. Once the bottom is cooked, transfer the skillet to the oven and cook for 10 minutes, or until the frittata is cooked through (it won't jiggle when you move the pan) and the top is a light golden-brown.

Remove the skillet from the oven and let it cool for about 5 minutes. If necessary, run a knife around the edge of the pan, then carefully invert the skillet over a platter and tap the bottom of the pan to help release the frittata. Cut into wedges and serve immediately. (Any leftovers will keep in the fridge—wrapped in foil or packed in an airtight container—for 5 days.)

Raw Asparagus Salad with Parsley and Pistachios (and other bright happy things)

It's amazing how much things can change between blog posts. Exactly two weeks ago I rattled on about my first foray into the world of ramps, completely oblivious to the fact that the engagement ring I am wearing right now was in the next room, tucked under a stack of tee-shirts in the bottom of John's dresser. He proposed three days later in the tiny park in Fishtown where I sneak-attack kissed him on our first date two years ago (of course I said yes...my hands trembling). And now, elbow-deep in the overwhelming first stages of wedding planning (budget! guestlist! venue!), I find myself constantly interrupted by blissful daydreams, love notes, color schemes...and my secret wedding board on Pinterest.

In the midst of it all, though, life goes on around me. Fancy that!

My little veggie garden grew:


The first serrano pepper seedlings FINALLY sprouted!

And last night I attended the Philly Food Blogger Potluck, where I was excited to chat with the authors of Phickle, Food in Jars, The Cozy Herbivore, 22nd and Philly, Manifest Vegan, Teaspoons & Petals, JoyManning.com, and In Search of Beer! Since it was my first time meeting all of these established bloggers (and my limited attention span ruled out anything complex), I decided on a neon-green spring salad of raw local asparagus, parsley, roasted pistachios, and lemon vinaigrette. It took longer than expected to slice the asparagus (next time I'll use my food processor), and my fingers still hurt today from hurriedly shelling all those pistachios, but the end result was quite a knock-out. A surprising mix of textures and bright zippy flavor that just belted out SPRING! Serve it with grilled steak or chicken, polenta or rice, and a crisp pilsner or wheat beer.

Raw Asparagus Salad with Parsley and Pistachios

Serves 6 to 8

Ingredients
1/4 teaspoon Kosher salt
1/8 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice (from 1 lemon)
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 pound asparagus, tough stems trimmed and discarded
2 cups flat-leaf parsley leaves
2/3 cup shelled unsalted roasted pistachios
Shaved Parmesan cheese

Directions
In a small bowl, combine the salt, black pepper, and lemon juice. Whisk until the salt is dissolved, then keep whisking while you add the oil to the bowl in a slow stream. Set aside.

Lay the asparagus flat on a cutting board and slice them very thin on a diagonal (a few stalks at a time) to create thin oblong slices. Transfer the asparagus slices to a large salad bowl, add the parsley and pistachios, and pour the lemon vinaigrette over top. Toss well, divide the salad among plates, and garnish with shavings of Parmesan.

Green Spring Things: Deborah Madison's Braised Ramps and Asparagus

I'm not sure why I waited this long to try ramps for the first time—especially since these early-spring alliums have been trending on the blogosphere for the last few years and keep appearing in all of the cooking mags between April and June. Maybe it's for the same reason I didn't start watching Downton Abbey until the second season was well underway. I have an irrational aversion to bandwagons (I know I know...says the food blogger); I like to know something is truly worthy of the buzz—not just a fleeting cool new thing—before I give it a try. And I find that my skepticism usually leaves enough time for like-minded bloggers and writers to flood the web with new insights, histories, and, in this case, loads of recipes to ease me in. For instance, just yesterday Grub Street published an post called "How Ramps Became Spring’s Most Popular, and Divisive, Ingredient".

But that's not what got me. In the end, Deborah Madison made me do it. On Monday, after bundling more than thirty pounds of freshly-harvested asparagus, I took advantage of the slow business day to hunt though the Farmstand's copy of Madison's Vegetable Literacy. When I turned to her recipe for Braised Ramps and Asparagus, I could hear her taunting me from the beautifully designed page. Some might call it fate that we had also just received a fresh delivery of foraged ramps...and that I'd been craving something springy and green for dinner that night. Needless to say, I spent my lunch break scribbling down the recipe, setting aside a bag of ramps and the best bunch of asparagus, and buying a few cans of black-eyed peas to round out the meal. 

The dish came together quickly and couldn't have been simpler—I added an extra half cup of stock and two (15-ounce) cans of black-eyed peas to make it a main course—and my first bite of ramps even exceeded the hype. Springy and bright with the flavor of garlic and leeks and baby greens.

Braised Ramps and Asparagus, from Deborah Madison's Vegetable Literacy

Serves 2 to 4

Ingredients
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
12 ramps, rinsed and trimmed
1 pound asparagus, rinsed, tough ends trimmed
Sea salt and freshly ground pepper
1 cup chicken or vegetable stock

Directions
In a Dutch oven or cast iron skillet, melt 1 tablespoon of the butter over medium heat. The butter should foam but not brown; adjust the heat as necessary. Add the ramps and asparagus, season to taste with salt, and add the chicken stock. Cover the pot/pan and let the vegetables simmer gently over medium-low heat for about 10 minutes, or until the asparagus is tender and the flavors have mingled.

Remove the lid, add the remaining tablespoon of butter, and stir the liquid gently to make a sauce.

Serve immediately.


Intrigued? Here are a few more ramp recipes to try before their super-short season is over:

• White Cheese Pizza with Ramps from Food & Wine
• Pickled Ramps from Serious Eats
• Spaghetti with Ramps from Martha Stewart
• Assertive Green Salad with Ramps, Bacon and Blue Cheese from Food52
• Wild Ramp Pesto from Food52
• Ramp and Buttermilk Biscuits with Cracked Coriander from Bon Appétit
• Splayed Roast Chicken With Caramelized Ramps, Garlic and Capers from the New York Times
• Spring Greens Skillet from Charlotte au Chocolat
• Ramp and Mushroom Tart from Saveur

Homemade Pizza Night! (a weekly ritual)

It all started when John (my sweetheart) bought me a super-deluxe 14-cup food processor for Christmas. I'd dreamed of it for years, imagining blended soups and inventive summer slaws and lots of perfect pie crusts...but for some reason, when it was finally standing before me in all its stainless steel glory—taking up an impressive chunk of countertop real estate with special blades and extra work bowls and whatnot—I choked. I had a head of cabbage in the fridge, but coleslaw just didn't seem appropriate. And after the holiday rush of family gatherings and dinners and parties, I'd had enough pie to last me till Easter. So in a panic to find the perfect first use for my shiny new gadget, I fished the Cuisinart recipe booklet out of the food processor's box...and, as luck would have it, the first page I turned to was the recipe for pizza dough.

I was amazed by how easily the dough came together in the food processor! I'd been meaning to try my hand at homemade pizza dough ever since I read Mark Bittman's basic recipe in The New York Times, but in the meantime John and I had implemented weekly pizza nights as a way to experiment with the various brands of store-bought refrigerated and frozen dough...though even our most creative attempts came nowhere close to pizza-shop caliber. When we took our first bites of that homemade, real-deal crust (topped with pesto, chopped veggies, olives, and fresh mozzarella), we knew that pizza nights would never be the same again. Since then our weekly ritual has featured butternut squash with sage and feta; double-smoked bacon with fresh herbs and caramelized onions; roasted eggplant and sharp chèvre cheese; and lots of other fresh combinations. It's become something fun to look forward to in the midst of our hectic workweeks...and soon we'll be even more excited to pluck our toppings from the garden, when these little guys are all grown up and bursting with tomatoes and peppers and herby greens:

A few tips:

• There's about an hour of rising time required when making the dough, during which time you could easily take out the trash, go for a run, clean the bathroom, paint your nails, organize the freezer...you get the picture. And if you reserve the last twenty minutes of rising time for prepping your toppings and grating or slicing your cheese, then as soon as the dough is rolled out the and oven is preheated it should be easy as...ummm...pie. 
• If your food processor doesn't have a dough blade, try Jim Lahey's pizza crust recipe—it's equally as awesome. And if you're strapped for time during the week, make a batch of dough over the weekend and store it in the fridge or freezer (in a zip-lock bag or other airtight container) until pizza night. The dough should keep for up to two days in the fridge and up to three months in the freezer.
• For tomato sauce, either make your own or buy the good stuff. If you use sub-par sauce, it'll make a sup-par pizza.

Pizza Dough (slightly adapted from the Cuisinart Elite Collection Recipe Booklet)

Makes 1-3/4 pounds dough (two or three 12-inch crusts, depending on thickness); serves 4-6

Ingredients
1 package active dry yeast
1 teaspoon granulated sugar
1-1/4 cups warm (105°F to 115°F) water
3-1/3 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1/2 tablespoon kosher salt
2 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil

Directions
In a liquid measuring cup or small bowl, dissolve the yeast and sugar in the warm water, mixing vigorously with a fork to eliminate any lumps. Let stand until foamy, 3 to 5 minutes.

Add the flour and salt to the large bowl of a food processor fitted with the dough blade attachment. With the machine running on dough speed, pour the yeast liquid slowly through the small feed tube as fast as the flour will absorb it. Once the dough ball forms and cleans the sides of the work bowl, process for 30 seconds longer to knead the dough. The dough will be sticky.

Place the olive oil in a large nonreactive bowl and transfer the dough to the bowl, turning to coat it in the olive oil. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and set it in a warm place for 45 minutes. The dough ball should double in size.

Preheat the oven to 400°F (or whatever it says in your pizza recipe). If the risen dough seems oily to you, pat it gently with paper towels. Transfer the dough to a floured countertop and punch it down, then let it rest for 5 to 10 minutes while you assemble your toppings. (Or divide the dough into balls, place them in zip-lock bags, and refrigerate or freeze them for future use.) Roll the dough into your desired crust sizes and place it on a preheated pizza stone or on baking pans lightly sprayed with cooking spray. Add the toppings and bake the pizza(s) for 10 to 15 minutes or as directed in your recipe.

It's Sprouting Time! My Small-Space Veggie Garden: Part I

I don't care who you are...you're dead inside if watching seedlings grow does not get you all kid-in-a-toy-store excited. Ever since I started my summer veggie seeds last Monday (April 1st), they've been the first thing on my mind when I wake up each morning. As soon as my feet hit the floor I am off to check on the 72-unit flat [this one, from Burpee], in which I'm sprouting this year's veggie crop for our standard postage-stamp-size backyard. The seeds are all heirloom varieties from Happy Cat Farm: Sweet Basil, Dill, Serrano Peppers, Crystal Apple Cucumbers, Russian Red Kale, Black Zebra Tomatoes, and Snowberry Tomatoes. And Tuesday, after eight days of watching mini shoots begin to poke through the soil, I finally got a real preview of my future garden...and I might have let out a little squeal as I noticed that all but the serrano peppers had shot up overnight. My morning was then quickly consumed (and my work-from-home productivity was severely compromised) by a several-hour web search for raised bed gardening and some hard-core daydreaming about summer harvests and garden color schemes.

As I type, the seedlings have had another growth spurt, but you'll just have to wait for next week's update to see what they look like then. In the meantime, have you planned your summer garden yet? If you don't have a back yard, don't think for a second that you're off the hook. Windowsill veggie gardens might take a little more creativity, but they are just as exciting—and practical—because there's really nothing more suave than casually reaching out the window for some fresh mint when your friends come over for mojitos.

Need inspiration? Here are some links to get you started:
A 2011 garden tour at YouGrowGirl.com
These edible garden design ideas from Sunset.com
This blog about urban farming
SowSwell.com's post about modern veggie gardens

Ready to turn those seeds of ideas into sprouts?
Choose which veggies you'd like to grow (for ideas, click here or here or here or here for starters)
If you don't have a yard to play with, here are some tips for windowsill and indoor farming
Consult with Martha about starting some seedlings (or buy a seed starting kit here)

...and now...a miniature garden tour of my own!

This is what it looked like when I planted the seeds eight days ago, on April 1st:


...and this is what it looked like this yesterday, just eight days later:


Basil sprouts are just starting to poke through the soil:


Skinny dill shoots arch toward the sunny window:


My Russian Red Kale seedlings, the first of the bunch to sprout, enjoy their own little ledge:


The Black Zebra Tomatoes are about to spread their leaves:


Snowberry Tomatoes are also shooting up:


And the Crystal Apple Cucumber seedlings are looking hefty and strong:

One Last Winter Treat (Orange Upside Down Cake)

Do you feel it? Yesterday, on my way to a meeting, I spotted a bright orange-bellied robin hopping between two freshly budded tulips in a vacant lot, and my first thought—though it maybe should have been something like "Yay! Spring!"—was that I really should bake something fun with oranges before they're not as easily accessible in the warmer months. (I wish I were kidding, but, yes, that really was my first thought.) I had earmarked a compelling orange upside down cake recipe during one of our recent snow storms...and I just happened to have a bunch of oranges in my crisper at home...so after the meeting I swung by the grocery store for some buttermilk and brown sugar. I'll admit that the idea of making a sticky, caramel-topped upside down cake in my newly re-seasoned cast-iron skillet gave me the chills (especially since I was an upside down cake virgin)...but a whole new season was beginning, and I was suddenly overcome with an irrational urge to send off the old one with aplomb. 

To be honest, my sudden burst of excitement also had to do with the fact that I'd been battling a creativity slump for about a week...and a new challenge seemed like just the thing to shake up my brain. Plus, with caramel and warm spices and a burst of vitamin-C, I knew it would be an easily justified treat to have in the kitchen. Once I peeled the oranges and separated them into segments, the rest was simple and quickly done. I was shocked when the cake inverted perfectly onto a plate after baking—not one crumb stuck to the pan!—and the aroma that wafted throughout the house felt like a perfect send-off for the coldest season. Oh, man. The cake was incredibly moist and on the denser side, flavored with subtle hints of cinnamon and nutmeg that complemented the gooey, juicy caramel-orange topping.



Orange Upside Down Cake (adapted from this recipe at foodandwine.com)

Makes one 10-inch cake

Topping:
4 navel oranges
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
3/4 cup packed light brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg

Cake:
1-1/2 cups all purpose or cake flour
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1-1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
2/3 cup granulated sugar
2 large eggs, at room temperature
1/2 cup buttermilk
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Zest one of the oranges with a microplane or the fine side of a box grater; set the orange zest aside. Using a knife, peel the oranges and separate them into segments, making sure to remove the membranes and all the bitter white pith (for step-by-step instructions, check out this page). Pour off and reserve the accumulated juice for another use.

To make the topping: In a 10-inch cast-iron skillet, melt the butter and stir in the brown sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg until the mixture is moist. Remove from the heat and let cool for 10 minutes.

Arrange the orange segments in the skillet in 2 tightly-packed concentric circles. If there is a gap in the center, fill it with another orange segment.

To make the cake: Whisk together the flour, cinnamon, nutmeg, baking powder, and salt in a small bowl. In the bowl of an electric mixer, cream together the butter and sugar until light and fluffy, and then add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. With a wooden spoon, stir in half of the flour mixture, then stir in the buttermilk, vanilla, and the reserved orange zest. Add the remaining flour mixture to the bowl and mix until just combined.

Spoon the batter over the orange segments in the skillet and spread evenly. Bake for 40 minutes or until the cake springs back when lightly pressed. Let the cake cool for 15 minutes and then invert it onto a platter and serve. [The cake will keep covered at room temperature for up to 1 day]