Farmer's Market Redux

Pinch me. Because there are literally moments when I can't believe I have found myself in a place like this. It is the very beginning of August and heirloom tomato season is in full swing here in Northern California. Last Saturday's visit to the local farmers market yielded the picturesque basket of goodies above, but also a supremely exciting moment for this food nerd.

A few months ago, one of my favorite bloggers, Smitten Kitchen, was rhapsodizing about her discovery of a web source for dried beans -- Rancho Gordo. Now, if you're like me, you see the words dried beans and you think "uh, yeah, great in theory, but, like, I HAVE NO TIME". I'm a canned bean girl. Always have been. I'm also an I'd-love-to-make-chicken-stock-from-scratch-but-there-are-not-enough-
hours-in-the-day-for-that-sort-of-thing". But, people... the perfect storm has been brewing.
First, I've been reading. (uh-oh...)
Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma...he of the often-repeated quote:
"Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants."
And then,
Mark Bittman's How To Cook Everything Vegetarian. Years ago, Bittman's earlier book, How To Cook Everything, replaced
The Joy of Cooking in this cookbook junkie's heart. And, now--don't be alarmed--his vegetarian book is on my nightstand. He makes a very persuasive argument for the intense flavors and textures of dried beans vs. canned and the benefits of soaking and cooking up a batch on the occasional Sunday -- and as you may, or may not, know I am a huge fan of cooking on Sundays.
He also points out that the beans' cooking liquid is deliciously flavorful in its own right (as opposed to that nasty, metallic-tasting goo that canned beans sit in) so they require very little cooking to taste spectacular.

So, there we were...wandering the cornucopia of the San Francisco Ferry Terminal Farmer's Market, and I spotted a sign that looked familiar. Rancho Gordo. Imagine that!! The very same beans Deb at Smitten Kitchen was raving about...and having to mail order, are grown in Napa and available at the market! I was giddy! The beans were ready to go, packed in clear, one-pound bags and came with recipe cards. There were multiple varieties with lovely names...Borlotti...Flageolet...Scarlett Runner...Black Calypso. They were beautiful. I wanted them all. I thought about it a few minutes. What were typically the most disappointing, icky canned beans? Ha. Easy. Cannellini. I've tried virtually every canned variety of this classic Italian white bean and the quality, across-the-board, is dismal. So, I brought a pound of dried Cannellini beans at the market, brought them home and followed the recipe card instructions the very next day...a Sunday.





At the risk of sounding like a total kook, I will tell you the beans were close to life-changing. They had a nutty, robust flavor and meaty texture unlike any canned variety I had ever tasted. It was an epic moment. I immediately formulated a bean-stockpiling plan...one Sunday a month, I will cook up a batch of beans...eat half, and freeze half ( a Bittman suggestion). That way, I'll have a "pantry" full of beans, in my freezer, at the ready. As my husband likes to point out..."you love a project".

That evening we enjoyed my version of Beans-on-Toast...or, maybe one could call it Extremely Hearty Bruschetta or even This Would Tickle Any Tuscan.
Buon appetito!



"Beans-on-Toast" Tuscan-Style
serves 4-6

2 cups cooked--recipe below-- (or canned) white cannellini beans
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 garlic clove, minced

1 cup grape/cherry tomatoes
1 bunch arugula, washed and dried
sliced, toasted ciabatta
fruity/peppery extra-virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar for drizzling

1. Heat the olive oil in pan over medium heat, and saute garlic until barely golden. Add beans and some cooking liquid and saute until warmed through. Taste for seasoning.

2. Slice and toast the ciabatta.

3. Plate a handful of arugula and scatter some tomatoes over. Drizzle with a little olive oil and balsamic vinegar.

4. Top with a couple spoonfuls of sauteed beans. Drizzle a tiny bit more olive oil and garnish with toasted ciabatta.


To Cook Dried Beans
There are numerous ways* to cook up some beans. Crockpot (uh, sorry, not enough counter space). Pressure Cooker (traumatized by a couple pressure-cooker debacles in my mother's kitchen in the '70s, I say, no thanks -- too scary.) Standard, stovetop. (I'm in!)*

*Go to Rancho Gordo's web site, or anywhere on the web really, for advice on using alternate methods. I'll tell you about the stovetop method I used here.

Check the beans for small debris and rinse in cool, fresh water. Cover beans with two inches of water and soak for 4-6 hours. NOTE: They will look shriveled and kind of scary. Don't worry -- they will plump back up during cooking.

The soaking puts people off, I know. The lady at the Rancho Gordo stand told me that overnight is basically too long of a soak. Their beans are pretty fresh, so they only need about 4 hours, so it really is perfect for a Sunday. Put them in around lunch time or in the morning and you're ready to cook at dinner time.

In a large pot, saute some/or all of following veg, finely chopped, in a tablespoon of olive oil until soft:
one yellow onion
one stick of celery
one carrot
one clove of garlic

Add the beans and the water and make sure the beans are covered by at least one inch of water. Bring to a hard boil for five minutes and then reduce to a gentle simmer. Once soft, add salt. Beans can take from one to three hours to cook, and you can't rush them. You also can't pinpoint an exact cooking time. Start testing and tasting after an hour or so to see how they're doing. Slow cooking (only gentle bubbling) over low heat works best. When they are tender, salt to taste and then, if you're going to freeze, let them cool in their cooking liquid and then place in plastic containers and freeze.

Snapshots from a Road Trip

A man. A woman. A dog. A small-ish, overstuffed hatchback.
Driving cross-country has its challenges, only one of which is: what will we eat?

CHICAGO to MINNEAPOLIS
Our first stop was Minneapolis, to visit my brother. He has always been an excellent
cook. Even as a kid, when my mother would let us make tacos...his looked like a food stylist had been involved.


For dinner one night, he roasted a large pan of lamb (ribs), rubbed with olive oil and simply seasoned. Heavenly.

I was in charge of the sides, so I made a quick Greek Salad to go along with the lamb, and grilled some eggplant in the simplest way possible..(a recipe I make over and over again from Faith Willinger’s book about Italian vegetables). It was a near perfect meal...and it lingered in my mind, a warm and happy memory, in the days that would come...





MINNEAPOLIS to RAPID CITY, SOUTH DAKOTA



Ummm, would it be harsh to say, this was, er, dining "badlands"?
This leg of the trip was the start of what we eventually called "the Burger-a-Day Diet". It’s not pretty folks…there were burgers at Dairy Queen (resulting in post-burger queasiness) and burgers at Wendy’s (disappointing, and well, yes, that queasy thing again…) but, there were some redeeming moments…a nicely made, simple bison burger at a small restaurant inside Badlands National Park, and, just when I thought I couldn’t eat another burger…a supremely delicious Montana-raised, grass-fed beef burger at Montana Ale Works in Bozeman, Montana.



One of the highlights of driving through South Dakota is that you are treated to a Wall Drug billboard every couple of miles. They are quirky, clever and usually set off in a field, alone. Mile after empty mile, the billboards keep appearing on empty hillsides and reminding you that they offer free ice water, western apparel, homemade doughnuts, and also coffee for a nickel.
Let me tell you, friends, they work. I was enchanted by the signs…eagerly searching the horizon for the next Wall Drug billboard.

By the time we reached the middle of the state, I was adjusting our itinerary and planning a stop. Good thing we did, because we were rewarded with some of the best chocolate cake doughnuts ever. And, yes, the coffee was a nickel, and it was excellent.


I wish I had not been so ravenous that I had remembered to pull out the camera later that day for a picture of our picnic lunch not far from Mt. Rushmore. We were in a parking lot across from the Safeway in Rapid City, South Dakota, and sitting in the front seat of our car, Steve was carving up a rotisserie chicken... with a plastic knife.

Later that day, on our way to Billings, Montana it was back to burger land. There are not many choices out in that section of Big Sky Country, so there we were, at the Wendy’s mentioned above. Even Henry, the Labrador, looked disappointed by our choice.


Most of the meals in this portion of the country seem to include Velveeta, or some kind of orangey-yellow processed "American" cheese product. At one motel in Montana, there was even a large pump mechanism, designed to squirt the cheese product on your scrambled eggs. At night, I dream of cheeses...ripe and fragrant Brie, Morbier, goat cheese crottins, and Cowgirl Creamery's Mt. Tam. The orange cheese stuff makes me sad. I wonder aloud in the car, is this our American "peasant" food? Orange cheese that can be pumped?


BOZEMAN, MONTANA
A couple days with friends in Bozeman restored our spirits -- especially an incredible grilled shrimp dish with a Moroccan sauce, whipped up by our ebullient hostess, from the pages of the current Cooks Illustrated summer grilling issue.

BOZEMAN, MONTANA to JACKSON, WYOMING


More hiking than driving. (Hooray!) Hiking in Bozeman. Hiking in Grand Teton National Park.
Our post-hike beer-of-choice became
Moose Drool Brown Ale.

JACKSON, WYOMING to SALT LAKE CITY, UTAH
Low expectations.
Potato chips eaten straight from the bag become replacement for actual meals.
Grocery store deli sections provide sustenance.

But, the restaurant at Hotel Monaco in Salt Lake City is a shimmering oasis in a culinary desert. Good wine. Beautiful plate of beef carpaccio, followed by a perfectly cooked piece of halibut, nestled on a zesty summer "chowder". No photo due to complete exhaustion.

A few observations: Utah feels enormous. Nevada is hot. My left arm has a white stripe where my watch is, from driving with the sun beating through the windshield.
We drive through to Lake Tahoe, stopping in Elko, Nevada for gas and some fried chicken from the deli at the local Albertson's supermarket. It's pretty good -- hot and salty and greasy, but I am ready to be home.


TRUCKEE, CALIFORNIA TO SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA
This town on the northern side of Lake Tahoe, is a delight. The Cedar House Sport Hotel is lovely. We are welcomed by an incredibly kind manager and invited to have some munchies on the terrace...a kind of a happy hour, I suppose. I don't remember a gin & tonic tasting so wonderful in a very long time.


The next day we share some not-very-good fish tacos for lunch before we hit the road. I decide one should try to avoid not-very-good fish tacos, if at all possible.
Undeterred, we agree...we must plan a return trip.

Tired and happy we cross the Bay Bridge into San Francisco a few hours later...relieved, tired and hungry.

The first order of business -- find the takeout menu for our favorite local Thai restaurant and place an order.

There's no place like home.