BaltimOregon

Better get my BlogtimOregon on again already. One meager post in January–here’s to keeping up with New Year’s resolutions. We made the Silver Palate’s ever-reliable “Chili for a Crowd” for the game. This is not your everyday chili. It’s got a unique Dijon mustard-olive-dill-Italian sausage-enhanced tang. We served it with two versions of cornbread: a maple syrup-enhanced one and another with whole kernels, inspired by the Baltimore food blog Coconut & Lime. Added some polenta to the mix to amp up its texture. And we chased it down with Oregon Trail Brown Ale, fresh from the 2.5-gallon beer pig.

Too bad I didn’t realize how appropriate chowder would be this year. Food52 had a cute Manhattan vs. New England Clam Chowder breakdown. Ironic that Manhattan wins hands down in my book. With a coughing baby needing attention, I barely watched a minute of the game. I don’t pretend to care about football, or any professional sports for that matter, but it’s hard to ignore America’s second biggest food holiday, worts (spelling intentional, prounced “wert” my KLCC editor reminds me) and all.

Chicken Balti Pot-less Pie, Minted Peas and Pleasant Farms-grown winter greens salad with shaved fennel and grapefruit (thanks Kevin Pang!).

I knew nothing about Chicago’s food scene. I’d only spent one night here before, on our summer 2008 cross-country drive en route to Oregon. And after traveling with six-month-old and teething Theo for the past three weeks, needless to say, I didn’t have  time or energy to research our food options in advance of our 48-hour layover here.

Of course, I knew Grant Achatz’s Alinea, but they’re booked up through October. I did manage to get a call for a spot off the wait-list, but the 3-star Michelin molecular gastronomy temple doesn’t permit children under age 14. So I turned to Twitter. I desperately directed-messaged Chicago Tribune “Cheap Eater” Kevin Pang for a baby-friendly, non-touristy, affordable spot, accessible from downtown. Within minutes, he directs me to Bar Toma, the new wood-fired, locavore pizza/gelato/pastry/espresso joint from Tony Mantuano, of Spiaggia restaurant and Top Chef fame. Pang won my trust. I devoured my La Quercia proscuitto with arugula and mozzarella pizza, chasing it with a Manhattan-like cocktail and then a local Heiffeweizen, an over-tired Theo finally asleep on my chest in the Ergo.

Bar Toma pizza and local weisse beer.

So I took Pang’s recommendation for the best new restaurant of 2011 to heart. The erstwhile Baltimore dwelling, former Bronx teacher, gritty journalist in me is drawn to revitalizing neighborhoods like Bridgeport (an immigrant enclave once known as “Hardscrabble”), a semi-vacant former stockyard zone on Chicago’s South Side. Plus, I was headed to Bridgeport anyway, to scope out the new Chicago headquarters and large Iron Street Farm of Will Allen’s Growing Power (more on that industrial oasis, with its vermiculture, tilapia tanks whose waste nourishes hydroponic kale plants and oyster-mushroom growing bales later). All I can say is, everyone on the #9 bus acted like I was crazy when I asked how to get to the farm on Iron Street. As Theo and I strolled past a Pepsi bottling plant, a man I asked for directions asked if our car had been impounded.

We were more confident, with a determined hunger, on our subsequent walk to Pleasant House Bakery. I wasn’t away of the humble restaurant’s gardens I must have passed, where they source much of their kale for delectable creamed-spinach-like and mushroom pies. I’m running out of steam here, but the tomato curried Chicken Balti pie, with a side of sweet minted peas, was divine. If only I’d had room for the sausage-encased, battered Scotch egg, a British delicacy I’ve never tried, which I also regret passing up at Ping’s Cafe in Vancouver. Chefs and co-owners Art and Chelsea Kalberloh Jackson couldn’t have been more hospitable when our car-seat and stroller barged into their cozy space. It turns out 3 pm on a Saturday, between the lunch and dinner rush, is the ideal time to dine there with a baby. If I was childless, I’d have had my food delivered I to Maria’s Packaged Goods and Community Bar. Instead, I washed it all down with a homemade spicy ginger ale and then a coffee and brown-bagged a Two Brothers barley wine from Maria’s to take back to the hotel. And fortunately Theo once again fell asleep on my Ergo-ed on our long walk down Halstead back to the Orange line.

Cumin lamb, braised bok choy with tofu skin and Guandong-style boneless duck at Peter Chang's China Grill.

I just got a disturbing annual report from WordPress that says I’ve managed to blog all of seven times in the past year. Here’s my 8th attempt at a post, staring down the midnight, here comes ominous Mayan 2012 deadline. 2011, with a turbulent pregnancy, new motherhood and a slow computer clogged with my huge, disorganized audio, photo and video files, somehow got away from me. I commit to do better in 2012. I’ll make baby Theo‘s afternoon naps my new blogging time.

The new year finds us visiting family in Charlottesville, home of the celebrated Peter Chang’s China Grill. The “disappearing chef” himself appears to be staying put in Thomas Jefferson’s university town, where he’s had a continuous run at the former Wild Greens cafe space in the former Barracks Road Shopping Center since March. (Speaking of C’ville restaurant news, did you hear The Tavern, an institution with a questionable food safety record, has closed? I say good riddance.)

Chang’s is known for authenic, hot and numbing Sichuan fare. We’ve eaten there twice and particularly loved his eggplant dishes, spicy dan dan noodles and fragrant, Uighur-inspired cumin lamb. Dining at the restaurant this trip, we had eggplant deliciously dry-fried with no residual grease, like crisp French fries. The numbing Sichuan peppercorns atop make it too hot for some. We had our favorite tender cumin lamb. And I wanted to try a duck dish. The smoked duck at the neighboring table was temptingly served Beijing kaoya-style, but with fluffly baozi-style buns (think David Chang’s unctuous pork belly buns) instead of bland pancakes. But the neighbors said to order sweet Guandong duck instead so we did. It had a pleasant, if unspectacular, sweet-and-sour sauce. The rectangles of fried duck were boneless, which made for smoother eating. And we started with Shanghai-style scallion pancakes, a nostalgic taste of China for me. Except they were unusually puffed up like Indian pooris. I once made Eileen Yin-Fei Lo’s pancake recipe, with lard, but my technique needs perfecting. Here’s to making more Chinese scallion pancakes in the new year, as I post this just as the clock strikes midnight!

Scallion pancakes puffed up like poori at Peter Chang's.

Chanterelle Hungarian Mushroom Soup made last fall

How I’ve blogged in my head these many months, but somehow, sleep-deprived as I am with a four-month-old (haven’t blogged since Theo’s birth), it’s hard to dive back in. So I’ll ease in. Here’s a short post. Make Chicken Marsala with the gorgeous wild chanterelle mushrooms in peak season here in the Pacific Northwest. I’m thrilled to expand my wild mushroom soup and wild mushroom pasta repertoire. These meaty mushrooms were the the perfect sub for the shiitake, cremini, oyster blend Emeril calls for. Yes, Emeril, cringe I know. Normally, I shy away from Food Network celebrities. My mother-in-law says his recipes are too involved. But this one is delicious and easy. Don’t buy Emeril’s packaged Creole seasoning. It’s easy to make the spice blend at the end of the recipe. Leave out the two pats of butter at the end, as we did. But you must use dry Marsala wine. I hadn’t touched our bottom since the unctuous Papardelle with Hazelnut Cream recipe from Lincoln’s Jenn Louis I made last year. Serve your Chicken Marsala with Trader Joe’s gummy, addictive Harvest Grains Israeli couscous and quinoa blend. It made for an easy enough, memorable weeknight meal.

Crater Lake in winter: we had the pristine views all to ourselves, even during Spring Break week.

It’s spring break here, but we did not fight the crowds during our wintertime trip to Crater Lake. Oregon’s only national park (with free entry!)–and apparently the country’s deepest lake (almost 2,000 feet deep)–is more popular with summertime campers. But the park’s also a 7,000-foot high wintertime wonderland through May. The snow-covered lake views also seem more spectacular. Cross-country skiers like to circle the lake’s entire 33-mile rim. But we’re not intrepid outdoors-folk, and I’m 27 weeks pregnant, so snowshoeing is our preferred kind of low-commitment sport. Plus, it doesn’t require a roof rack to transport the minimal equipment.

Jo's Motel: Cozy lodging and great source of organic co-op-style food in Fort Klamath.

Fortunately, we had clear views of the lake, which clouds and snowstorms obscure half the time this time of year. The 3-mile road to Rim Drive was closed, however, due to avalanche risk (gulp!). We played it safe and took the easy, well-compacted snowshoe route up to the top. And what a pristine view we had all to ourselves when we arrived at about 6 p.m.

The plentiful organic groceries at Jo's Motel in Fort Klamath.

Lodging options are limited this time of year. We were thrilled when our friends recommended Jo’s Motel in nearby hard-up (practically a ghost town) Fort Klamath. Innkeepers Robin and Jim (who used to live near Corvallis) offer an unlikely oasis of organic foods and homey accommodations, with no phones or Wi-Fi but all the free classic DVDs you could care to rent. We had the peaceful retreat to ourselves and could have stayed a third night free had Dan not had to get back. You can get a suite with a kitchen and cook up items procured from Jo’s well-stocked (if not expensive) grocery, but we came to relax. So Robin and Jim cooked us up organic eggs, hash browns, sausage and creamy, fair-trade hot cocoa for breakfast. They also grill up free-range burgers and serve salads tossed with Jo’s tangy house balsamic-blue cheese vinaigrette. Their fermented dill pickle slices reminded me that a good pickle makes a sandwich or burger. Jo’s Motel is the place to stay when you head to the Lake.

The Moosewood Cookbook's Brazilian Black Bean is now my go-to soup swap soup.

Of course I meant to blog about the first impromptu soup swap I had back in December, but we all know how much I’ve been blogging these days. Starting again is like drafting that first post, when I couldn’t even type out complete sentences. Still, I’ve missed the daily discipline of blogging. I hope to recommit to this daily (hell, or at least weekly) practice these last four months of my pregnancy.

Ladle your soup into yogurt containers for swapping. Or glass canning jars. Just be sure to leave extra head-space. Contents expand (jars can crack) when frozen.

Fortunately, I can draw inspiration from the second soup swap I attended today, skillfully arranged by Chef Intaba through Slow Food Corvallis. All the participants brought six quarts of soup, and then we traded. We returned home with six different kinds of soup to eat right away or store in the freezer (if you can find the space! That’s why folks invest in chest freezers here.) You come home with such variety, instead of tiring of that one big pot of soup that sits in the fridge ignored for a week. Portland-based food writer and radio producer Deena Prichep aptly captured the conviviality of these events in her soup swap pieces for The Oregonian and OPB.

Rule #1 of hosting a soup swap, I’ve learned the hard way now, is to only prepare one type of soup. I made the mistake of preparing one to share and another one to share with guests during the event. Baltimoregon, when will you learn to put all your eggs in one pot?

For both swaps, I made Molly Katzen’s standby Brazilian black bean soup from her Moosewood Cookbook (see recipe below), recommended to me years ago by Dan’s aunt Amy. Most Brazilian black bean concoctions–think feijoada–involve smoky pork, but the Moosewood recipe is, of course, vegetarian. It’s bright and citrus-y, punched up with orange juice, diced tomatoes, cayenne and cumin. I even used locally-grown Black Valentine beans from Matt-Cyn Farms.

Such events really showcase ethnic and culinary diversity. Slow Food Corvallis president Ann Shriver made an Ethiopian lentil soup with spicy berbere sauce. Several attendees made lentil soups, made with green French lentils that don’t get so mushy when cooked. One participant stressed lentil soup’s low-glycemic index, which she turned to when facing the risk of gestational diabetes while pregnant.

Ethiopian lentil with fiery berbere chile paste.

Another woman of indigenous Mexican descent made a healthy version of posole. Chef Intaba drew on her Jewish heritage with her grandmother’s split pea soup. We won’t tell anyone she subbed her own smoked pork belly for the flaken, which her bubbe stewed for hours in the pot. Another swapper offered potato-leek soup with German butterball potatoes to represent her heritage. A West African chicken and peanut soup served during our meal was also memorable. Now we have a fridge and freezer full of soup to get us through the week.

Read the rest of this entry »

Paula Wolfert's Muhammara.

How I’ve missed blogging, but somehow haven’t been up it. I’m halfway through my first pregnancy, pregnant with a boy(!) we just learned. That might explain why I didn’t have too much morning sickness and always felt like eating first trimester? Unfortunately, second trimester has surprisingly so far been more of a slog.

But I wanted to write to sing the praises of muhammara, another great roasted red pepper (with walnuts and pomegranate) dip that apparently hails from Syria. I fell in love with this recipe we just had from Paula Wolfert’s The Cooking of the Eastern Mediterranean. Dan’s former department chair prepared it as part of a delicious Middle Eastern spread she put together for a visiting economist from Turkey. Shawna and her husband, Rolf, sure know how to entertain. They’re especially known for their Scandinavian delicacies–gravalax, pickled herring, fresh currant-infused aquavit, home-smoked duck. Rolf is from Sweden. He even grows pinot noir grapes, which he bottles into a coveted “Grapes of Rolf” vintage. A case or two of his wine has been known to woo job candidates here.

Back to muhammara. Like avjar, it has an addictive tang that pairs so well with pita and goat cheese or feta. If you, like me, try to avoid imported bell peppers this time of year (apart from the carbon footprint, they have that off, less-than-fresh taste), just substitute jarred roasted red peppers instead. Why bother roasting peppers out of season anyway? For another muhammara variation, check out this one from Ivy Manning in the current issue of Portland’s MIX. Pomegranate molasses is a key ingredient that you’ll enjoy having around for salad dressings. I believe Corvallis cookbook author Jan Roberts-Dominguez also has a muhammara recipe (with hazelnuts instead of walnuts) in her new Oregon Hazelnut Country cookbook.

Simply in Season's Carrot Cookies

I finally connected with Cathleen Hockman-Wert, author of this pioneering Mennonite cookbook of seasonal, affordable, doing-more-with-less recipes. She lives in Corvallis and studied journalism at the University of Oregon. So we had lots to chat about over $10 special pork shoulder plates at Del Alma during Corvallis Culinary Week. I first encountered her Simply in Season cookbook through the cooking classes I participated in through Ecumenical Ministries of Oregon. Check out this related article I wrote on their food justice work through faith communities, on page 30 of the current issue of Edible Portland. And then make the cookbook’s recipe for carrot cookies! Splurge with the fresh orange juice-and-zest icing…they’re still pretty healthy, albeit buttery. I added raisins to the moist, cakey cookies; nutmeg/cinnamon-type spices and pineapple or shredded coconut would also change things up. Try whatever you might add to a carrot cake. I hear they turn out well when made with gluten-free flour. Reminds me of a carrot-oatmeal cookie recipe I made a while back from 101 Cookbooks. Heidi Swanson’s recipe is vegan, to boot, sweetened with only maple syrup and creamed with coconut oil instead of butter.