Market Pictures - September 19th

Long overdue pictures from last Sunday's Market

More over here.

With eyes toward tomorrow.

"All the bags are checked

And the reasons why

Yesterday lingers on

That’s the piece you keep when you say goodbye".

- Conor Oberst (Monsters of Folk)

Just like realizing you've out grown snow days, discovering you no longer have a place in a city you previously called home, is a hard pill to swallow. It may be a gradual realization or it may hit you head on when you return for a visit, either way it's your  first step in going forward - especially if you've been dragging your feet as much as I have.

Above picture courtesy of Max Horowitz

I went back to Binghamton this weekend to go to Spiedie Fest and to spend a night out with some friends before we scatter to all parts of the country, including Alaska, South Carolina, Georgia and New York.

We raised our glasses and celebrated with those who are leaving to settle in a new place and commiserated with those who don't know what to do next. We made promises of visits and tucked loose questions into neatly packaged answers wrapped in promises not to fall out of touch.

Saturday night blurred into Sunday morning without skipping a beat. The sun rose, as it always does, and brought with it a new relief and nothing left to do but head off in our various directions.

The drive back down state was three hours longer than usual but somehow underlined with a sense of calm;  the monotony broken up by a roadside farm stand in Monticello. A small sign on the highway lured me off with the promise of local peaches but I left with no less than two pounds of tomatoes, 2 onions, 2 green peppers, 4 ears of corn, 1/2 pound of string beans, 1 pound of white peaches and 1 and a half pounds of the best apricots I've ever eaten. The farmer was friendly and talkative as were his customers and suddenly nothing seemed as important as his local produce. The traffic and roadwork became irrelevant and the uncertainty of tomorrow faded in the presence of a plump, imperfect tomato. After that, I opted to avoid the main thruway for as long as possible, instead choosing a winding state road that meandered through small towns.

When I finally walked in the door at 9pm, I turned one of my farm-stand tomatoes into bruschetta, topped with basil from our backyard. The simplicity of it was familiar and comforting and I ate it on the back patio in the cool, dark night. Afterwards, I folded myself into bed and set my eyes toward tomorrow.

Farm-stand Bruschetta

Serves 1-2

1 Large beefsteak tomato; washed and chopped, seeds removed

1-2 teaspoons extra virgin olive oil, plus more for brushing on bread

freshly ground salt and pepper to taste

fresh basil

1 large clove of garlic

2 large slices thickly cut bread

Toss chopped tomato with 1-2 teaspoons olive oil, salt and pepper. Set aside.

brush both sides of bread lightly with olive oil. place in oven or toaster oven on 375 degrees or grill on medium until golden. Remove and rub garlic clove on top side of bread. 

Top with tomato mixture and garnish with basil.

Add another grind of salt and pepper if desired.

Enjoy!

Click here for more pictures from the weekend.

An August Sun.

Have you ever noticed how the sun feels different in different seasons or even during the same one. Sometimes it's a gradual change and sometimes it's a quick flip flop. You go to bed one night exhausted from the humidity and wake up the next morning to the forgiving dry heat of late summer. The air is less heavy, the sun is in a different place and, oh my, there is a breeze! Green tomatoes turn red, stone fruits are suddenly sweeter, and basil continues to grow in abundance. The sun is a little lower in the sky than it was at the same hour just a month before, but that's not all; somehow, some way, it's just a little different. You can't quite explain why, it's just different than it was a few days before.

Last saturday, that is precisely what happened. It was still just July 31st but I woke up to an August sun.
For me, August is the summer that I love. It's the month of fresh tomato salads and more local corn that you thought you could ever possibly eat. It's zucchini from one of the only two remaining farms in Nassau County. It's homemade pickles (recipe soon!), long bike rides and ice cream after rock climbing (soft serve please!). Best of all, it's the month of assembling foods instead of cooking them; because the best way to eat foods this fresh, is with minimal alteration.

I stumbled across Shannalees's post about peaches and basil and the recipe looked so good that it was the very next thing I ate. Coincidentally, I seem to want a cool blob of  ricotta cheese on everything that I eat these days and that's exactly what was dropped on top of her open-face sandwich.


Because I have to be difficult, I made a few of my own changes like, adding arugula, leaving off the butter and honey and swapping the sourdough for whole seeded rye (it's what I had at home). I also swapped the peach for a nectarine because, again, it's what I had at home.

Nectarines and Basil on Toast

Adapted from Food Loves Writing. 

Serves one.

One large slice whole rye bread (or whatever sliced bread you like)

Small handful baby arugula or baby spinach

One nectarine, sliced

A couple leaves of fresh basil (I picked it from my garden!)

A few blobs of ricotta (If you're near NYC I like Colabro brand the best)

Sea salt and black pepper

Toast bread. Top with arugula then sliced nectarine and basil. Drop small blobs of ricotta on top and sprinkle with sea salt and pepper. 

Enjoy immediately!

A Wednesday Story

Step One: Shake up a batch of homemade salted butter.

Step Two: Walk to the market for a pound of jambon bayonne

Step Three: Stop at a nearby french bakery for a fresh crusty baguette that is way better than any you've ever made. Get distracted by the delicious-looking lemon squares (they aren't the best you've ever had, a little sweeter than you like, but somehow you always feel compelled to order one anyway). On second thought, you'll just have an iced hazelnut coffee (truly one of the best around) and leave with the baguette you came in for in the first place.

Step Four: Assemble your jambon-beurre; rip or slice open a piece of baguette and spread one side with butter. Lay a few slices of the jambon on top of the butter - not too many, just enough for a thin layer. Throw in a handful of arugula and a slather of imported dijon mustard for a twist on the traditional. Slide the sandwiches back into the paper sleeve.

Step Five: Pack your sandwiches and lots of water into a backpack, take a friend with you, and hike multiple miles up, down and around some mountain trails. Breathe in the clean air, leave behind thoughts of traffic and the suburbs. Don't forget your camera, but try not to get caught up with taking pictures either. Remember, there is no time like the present.

Step Six: Stop at a few overlooks, look out over the edge of the cliffs. 
Step Seven: Sit down onthe smooth rocks near a small waterfall. Take out your sandwich and take a bite. Bask in the saltiness of the jambon and the creaminess of the butter - the way they contrast with the spiciness of the arugula and mustard; completed by the way the crust, that it's all pressed between, shatters with each bite.

Step Eight: Drink plenty of water it's pretty hot outside. 
Step Nine: Look around for the wild blueberries that you know won't be ripe for at least another month - probably two. Search anyway just in case, by some fluke, they are ripe early. Find them, they are still quite green. 
Step Ten: Pack up your stuff and hike to the other side of the lake. Poke your head inside a dilapidated house, stop to notice the flowers, lay out in the sun just a few minutes more.

Step Eleven: Head back to suburban sprawl via an over-crowded highway, don't let the traffic ruin your day.

Jambon-Beurre 

If making you're own butter doesn't appeal to you, just be sure to purchase a high quality fresh, salted buter. Something in a tub not shaped like a stick - preferably freshly packed and local. Imported from France would be okay as well. If you have trouble finding Jambon Bayonne, a more common variation is the spanish version called Jamon Serrano or of course the italian prosciutto. I think that jambon and jamon are both a little drier (in a good way) than the prosciutto available near me. Just be sure to ask the price before they slice it, I almost accidentally ended up with a Jamon Iberico; another spanish variation cut only from black iberico pigs, that was $150 a pound! Serves 2

1 French Baguette

1 lb Jambon Bayonne or Prosciutto

Salted Butter (see headnote)

1 Very Large Handful Baby Arugula

Imported Dijon Mustard (I like Maille or Hediard)

Slice the baguette open length wise and spread the bottom half with butter. Layer Jambon thinly on top of the butter and spread lightly with dijon mustard (on the ham not the bread). Top with arugula and close the Sandwich.