Twilight: End of Summer Garden Thursday, Sep 15 2011 

It’s that twilight time in the garden and at the farmer’s markets.

The magic in-between time that gently divides the seasons. The summer darlings such as heirloom tomatoes, vibrant peppers, and the last stubby fingers of okra sit adjacent to mottled wild pears, aubergine-colored scuppernongs bursting with sweet juice, and tender, young winter squash.

The slate of a garden, of a season, is not quickly wiped away. It’s more akin to gentle strokes. The natural transition of the garden is slow, soft, and gentle.

I love the twilight.

Although I’ve enjoyed tomato sandwiches for literally both breakfast and lunch many days this week on pullman loaf Southern sandwich bread from HF Bread Co, it was a real pleasure to take home a taste of fall from the Grant Park Farmers Market last Sunday.

The tomatoes seem to be the stalwart vegetable of summer. Somehow it seems that summer has officially arrived when the first “good tomatoes” come in — and it seems that summer is really leaving us when the tomatoes wind down.

Well, folks, it’s about that time.

I maintain that Southerners have been eating seasonally and locally for generations. It wasn’t “locavorism” or some other such bizarre seemingly made-up word.

It just was. It all seems new again, but really, the concept is as old as when the 1st plowshares were thrust into the earth. We just lost our way for a bit. Some folks still need guidance. Yes, I admit there’s a practical aspect to it. It’s hard to find everything local — and sometimes it’s expensive. There’s no doubt there’s a complicated landscape.

My friend and colleague Sherri Castle has a lovely book, The New Southern Garden Cookbook, to help remind us, to help us once again find our path.

Don’t be fooled by the title. It’s not just for Southerners. It’s to help everyone think about eating what’s in season.

The reviews have been very impressive.
“A celebration of fresh seasonal fruits and vegetables, from apples and asparagus to winter squash and zucchini.”
 –The New York Times Book Review

“If you see the garden as an extension of your kitchen, and if you happen to appreciate a Southern sensibility. . .you’ll be happy with the vegetable-focused recipes.” –The Washington Post

“A must-have cookbook for backyard gardeners and farmers’ market aficionados alike.” –Taste of the South

It’s a beautiful book, full of mouthwatering photos. It’s one of those cookbooks that does it’s job. It makes you hungry.

Sherri’s shared with me a lovely recipe for a Slow Roasted Tomato Tart. Slow roasting the tomatoes really helps those that are less flavorful than those picked at the zenith of summer. And, in a nod towards what’s just around the bend, I am sharing a recipe for Kale Salad with Lemon. I hope you’ll enjoy!

Mama’s Reading List .

  • New recipes and photos at
  • LOTS of events on my book tour schedule and new ones coming soon!
  • A couple of weeks ago I paid a visit to an old friend, Amanda Hesser . We shot a video for Warm Summer Shrimp Salad for Food52
  • Lastly, here’s what Amanda had to say about my new book, “Virginia Willis could cook a memorable meal from a sock and some twigs. Whether she’s making southern food (her home turf) or French country dishes — or helping you get ready for company as she does in this treasure of a book, Virginia is someone you want by your side in the kitchen.” Wow! Isn’t that nice!! 

Bon Appetit, Y’all!

Kale Salad with Lemon
Serves 4 to 6

1 bunch kale
2-3 slices baguette, toasted
1/2 garlic clove, mashed to a paste (see below)
1/4 cup finely grated Parmesan cheese, more for garnish
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, more for garnish
Freshly squeezed juice of 1 lemon
1/8 teaspoon red pepper flakes, or to taste

First remove the stems of kale then slice then into chiffonade. Chiffonade is is a classic French technique that means thinly slicing an herb, such as basil, or a leafy vegetable, into strands or ribbons. To make chiffonade, stack the leaves one on top of the other, and roll them tightly into a cylinder. Using a chef’s knife, slice the cylinder crosswise into thin strips. Place the kale ribbons in a large bowl.

Using a microplane or box grater, grate the bread into the kale. Add garlic, cheese, oil, lemon juice, salt, and pepper flakes. Toss to thoroughly coat. Refrigerate to wilt and let the flavors marry, at least 30 minutes. Taste and adjust for seasoning with salt and pepper before serving.

Garlic Paste
To prepare garlic paste, place the broad side of an unpeeled clove of garlic on a clean work surface and give it a whack with the flat side of a chef’s knife. Remove the papery skin and trim away the tough basal plane at the top of the clove. Halve the garlic lengthwise and remove any of the green shoot, if present, as it is bitter. Coarsely chop the garlic, then sprinkle it with coarse salt. (The salt acts as an abrasive and helps chop the garlic.) Then, using the flat side of a chef’s knife like an artist’s palette knife, press firmly on the garlic, crushing a little at a time. Repeat until the garlic is a fine paste.

Slow Roasted Tomato Tart
Serves 8

1/2 recipe Basic Pastry I (recipe below)
1/2 cup crème fraîche
2 tablespoons wholegrain Dijon mustard
2 tablespoons chopped fresh thyme, divided
3/4 cup crumbled soft, fresh goat cheese
3 cups Slow-Roasted Tomatoes (recipe below)

Fit the pastry into a 10-inch tart pan with a removable bottom. Bake and cool to room temperature according to the directions.

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Mix the creme fraiche and mustard and 1 tablespoon of the thyme in a small bowl. Use the back of a small spoon to spread 2 tablespoons of the mixture evenly over the bottom of the tart crust and set the rest aside. Sprinkle the cheese into the crust.

Cover the cheese with the tomatoes. Working from the outside of the crust toward the center, arrange the pieces in concentric circles and overlap their edges so that very little of the filling shows.

Bake the tart until the tomatoes are just beginning to lightly brown, about 15 minutes. Sprinkle with the remaining 1 tablespoon of thyme. Cut into wedges and serve warm or at room temperature with a spoonful of the remaining creme fraiche mixture on the side.

Basic Pastry 1
Pastry for one double-crust 9-inch pi e, two 9-inch regular or deep-dish pie shells, or two 9- or 10-inch tart shells

The keys to this flaky, flavorful pastry are chilled vodka and lard. Sherri explains the vodka, “Pastry is flaky when its chilled liquid evaporates quickly in the oven, leaving little steam pockets between the grains of flour. Because vodka evaporates even more quickly than water, this pastry is more flaky than most.”

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, divided
1 teaspoon kosher salt
2 tablespoons sugar
12 tablespoons (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, cut into small cubes and chilled
1/2 cup lard, cut into small cubes and chilled (about 4 ounces)
4 tablespoons vodka, chilled
2 to 4 tablespoons ice water
Instant flour or additional all-purpose flour, for rolling

If you do not have a food processor, use a pastry blender or your fingertips to work in the fat.

Place 1 1/2 cups of the flour and the salt and sugar in the bowl of a food processor fitted with the metal blade or pastry blade and pulse to combine. Scatter the cubes of butter and lard over the flour and pulse until the pieces of fat are the size of small peas. Add the remaining 1 cup of flour and pulse until the mixture looks like coarse cornmeal. Transfer into a large bowl.

Sprinkle the vodka and 2 tablespoons of the ice water over the flour mixture and stir with a fork or rubber spatula to form large clumps that pull in all of the dry ingredients. Squeeze a small handful of dough; if it doesn’t hold together, stir in more ice water, 1 tablespoon at a time. Although the pastry should not be wet, it works best when it is a little sticky.

Gather the clumps into a smooth ball of pastry. Divide the pastry in half and shape each piece into a ball. Flatten each ball into a disk and wrap tightly in plastic wrap. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes and up to 3 days. This gives the pastry time to rest, so the flour can continue to absorb the liquid and the pastry will be easier to handle. For longer storage, place the wrapped pastry in a freezer bag and freeze for up to 2 months. Thaw in the refrigerator overnight before using.

Slow Roasted Tomatoes
Makes 3 cups

3 pounds ripe Roma or other paste tomatoes
1 tablespoon kosher salt
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil

Preheat the oven to 250°F. Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper.

Core the tomatoes, cut them in half lengthwise, and use your fingers to scoop out the seeds. (A small tool called a tomato shark is the best way to remove only the core without lopping off the end of the tomato.)

Place the tomatoes cut-side up in a single layer on the prepared baking sheet. Sprinkle with the salt and drizzle with the oil. Roast until the tomatoes have collapsed and their centers are mostly dry, yet still slightly soft and plump, 2 to 4 hours, depending on the size and moisture content of the tomatoes.
The pieces should have the texture of a moist prune. Let the tomatoes cool to room temperature on the pan. Gently pull off and discard the skins. Set aside for tart.

Sherri’s recipes and images from THE NEW SOUTHERN GARDEN COOKBOOK: ENJOYING THE BEST FROM HOMEGROWN GARDENS, FARMERS’ MARKETS, ROADSIDE STANDS, AND CSA FARM BOXES. Copyright © 2011 by Sheri Castle. Photographs © 2011 by Stewart Waller. Used by permission of the University of North Carolina Press.

Please be nice. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission is prohibited. Feel free to excerpt and link, just give credit where credit is due and send folks to my website, Thanks so much.

My Day in NYC on 9/11 Friday, Sep 9 2011 

This picture of my sister was taken in August, just a few weeks before the tragedy in 2001. Last year when I wrote my original post, I hadn’t ever written a word about 9/11.

I’ve been pretty somber this week, as many have been, on the 10th anniversary with all the additional press, new photos, and new audio. I looked at photographs yesterday online that made me absolutely shiver.

I reworked this piece just a bit, but, I think, at least for a while, this will remain my blog post for 9/11. 

I remember that morning very plainly, that crisp, clear September morning.

I was living in Jersey City and would take the PATH train into the city for work. Our street was clean and tidy, but the walk along the main street was cluttered and trashy.

We didn’t live in a bad neighborhood; it was simply urban living.

Sadly, somehow I have always constantly, somewhat obsessively, wondered about the socio-economics of garbage. It used to drive me absolutely mad, how much sheer waste people used to carelessly throw on the ground.

So, I walked that morning, not looking at the cotton-white clouds strewn across the brilliant cerulean blue sky, but at the litter on the sidewalk, the empty, dented cans and bottles, the plastic bags whirling in the wind across the cement, the crumpled, greasy sacks of fast food, and the oily, iridescent psychedelic rainbows in the jagged potholes at every corner and crosswalk.

I remember walking mad.

Can you imagine? Walking mad? Letting filth, garbage, other people’s refuse distress me so? Why do I remember this?

It turns out that my disgust and  irritation actually saved me from watching the first plane hit the first tower.

I know this.

I walked this walk every day —  most often amazed, looking skyward at those tall twin towers across the river directly in my sight. They were a compass point. The papers, the news, the sources on the internet proclaimed the timing second by second, minute by minute of the deadly attack in the days and weeks to come.

I know that I was walking exactly at that exact time.

I didn’t see one of the most horrific things in history because I was looking down at garbage.

Often I would take the PATH from Jersey City to the WTC and then change on the subway to go uptown, but even though I was running late, I waited for the train to take me to 33rd street so I’d only have to make one change.

I’ve thought about that quite a bit in these past years, not taking the train to the WTC.

I could have been right in the middle of it.

By the time I changed to the subway and exited the station on 40th Street the streets were buzzing with rumors, that a plane had hit the tower.

I assumed it was a small plane, maybe a private jet.

Once in the office it was clear something else was going on. Cell phones weren’t working and internet access was spotty. Someone said the mall was under attack in DC, then it was declared the pentagon was hit, then the White House.

I was the producer for Epicurious on the Discovery Channel hosted my chef Michael Lomonaco. We didn’t know where he was.

I called my now-frantic family to let them know I was okay.

But, I was in Times Square and which actually didn’t feel very okay at all. If the US was under attack, Time Square might likely be dead center next.

So, we walked down 25 floors of the winding darkened stairwell, it wasn’t far and it wasn’t because we were in imminent danger. It somehow seemed like the sensible thing to do. I had no desire to be caught in an elevator.

The bridges and tunnels were closed. The subway wasn’t running. I had called a friend and she said to meet her at her apartment on the Lower East Side. Manhattan was under lock-down.

I knew I couldn’t get home.

So, I started walking southeast from Midtown. People were huddled at cars with doors and windows open at street corners listening to the radio. The sound of sirens and the gnawing pull of fear were omnipresent. I saw one act of vandalism, someone breaking into a pay phone. It gave me chills. The concept of being in a lawless New York City was terrifying in and of itself.

At one point I could see the towers smoldering and smoking against the blue sky, and then at the next corner, when they would have been in sight again, they were gone.

Just gone.

As I walked South, soon I saw people walking covered in grey dust and soot. I kept walking further south, then east. I finally arrived at my friend’s apartment on 5th Street on the Lower East Side. She wasn’t home, yet, so I took my shoes off and waited on the stoop. Seems like I remember now that my shoes were new and my feet were blistered. At the time it seemed unimportant and now, I am not certain.

My cell couldn’t call out, it was silent, but somehow my friend and colleague Faye was able to call me. She was my mouthpiece. She called my Mama to tell her I was okay. She called home. She called, she called, she called. She called home for me.

My friend finally arrived home. We quietly walked up the stairs. We then watched the news, silently weeping, watching the horror, the live images, the flying shreds of paper, the grey dust, the people — the absence of survivors, of people — trying, all the while, to keep the children occupied in the other room.

We were in shock and disbelief.

Finally, at the end of the very long day, the news reported the PATH was reopened at 14th. I didn’t care about what might happen to me. I wanted to go home, I wanted to feel safe. My friend didn’t want me to leave.

I wanted to go home.

We kissed, we cried, and cell phone dead, I started walking. I walked alone. The lack of sound was astonishing. It was like a movie set. New York City, but without the people.

No more sirens. No more noise. No radios. No one driving. No one honking. No one on the streets. No people. The avenues were empty and desolate. The occasional car would pass armed with a bullhorn encouraging people to go give blood.

It was dreamlike and surreal.

I walked North through Union Square where literally only two candles flickered, the beginning of the massive combination of shrine and wall of missing person posters that eventually established itself on that spot.

The 14th station was closed, so I walked further to 23rd, also closed, so onward to 33rd.

Finally, success.

The cavernous station was packed. People were elbow to elbow, shoulder to shoulder, but you could have heard a pin drop.

Everyone was muted and paralyzed  in fear and shock.

We crossed under the river to Hoboken because my regular station was destroyed and closed. Standing on the platform as we pulled into the station, I saw evacuees from lower Manhattan, covered in soot and ash, now clothed in garbage bags.

Garbage bags.

Tell your loved ones that you love them.
Peace be with you.

Labor Day Appetizers and Summer’s Sweet End Thursday, Sep 1 2011 

I’ve spent the summer in New England. It’s been an eye-opener on many levels.

First, I was told all about the corn. “Our corn is the best in the world,” she said.

In my mind, I silently dismissed it.

“Oh-okay,” I responded. The half acknowledgment that conveys the unspoken sentiment, “You really don’t know what the h*ll you are talking about…”

Best in the world? Yankee corn. Seriously?

Well, let me tell you. It is the best corn I have ever tasted.

I had no real idea. The amount of agriculture in the area is astonishingly prolific. They pretty much grow all the things we grow down South, it’s just the season is shorter and the peak of the season comes a few weeks later. In fact, due to the extreme heat in the South, some things grow better up North.

It’s been a great lesson.

There’s a farmer’s market in the area practically everyday of the week. Also, everyone with a substantial garden has a little shed, stand, or table at the end of their driveway for selling produce and sometimes, flowers. One of my favorites is the farmer with his battered old Ford pickup truck open and backed toward the road. The roadside tables – or tailgates – are filled with freshly harvested produce and a handwritten sign, often on the back of a cardboard box, with the price list. Sometimes there’s a moneybox, but sometimes there’s just a Mason Jar or an old dinged up cookie tin. No lock, no strap, nothing to prevent theft.

I grew up in the country. Montezuma, Georgia. The population at the time hovered around 3000. It’s nice to once again have a healthy, wholesome dose of real country living.

This summer has enlightened me. Over the course of these past few months I have realized, that for the most part, country folks are country folks all across the US.

Sure, I get some funny looks with my  slow drawl and Southern accent, and believe me, we sure don’t sound alike. I’ve heard some voices straight out of central casting – curmudgeonly old Maine fisherman with their here-uhs and there-uhs, Yo-Joey Italian American foodies from Rhode Island, and fast-talkin’ BAHSton city slickers.

I feel like I am in the middle of a Rockwell painting with the red, white, and blue bunting that graces so many of the windows and balconies, farm stands at every turn and curve, and tall white spires of 18th century churches piercing the crisp blue cloudless sky.

Freedom of speech, of worship, from want, and from fear.

There’s something about the summer holidays that bring out a heartfelt feeling of pride and patriotism. Memorial Day is a day that honors those that have died in service, July 4th celebrates our independence, and Labor Day is dedicated to the achievements of American workers that have contributed to the strength and well-being of our country.

What I’ve grown to appreciate, once again, is that at the end of the day, we’re all Americans.

My friend and colleague Judith Fertig has a new book out titled Heartland: The Cookbook that celebrates another seemingly Rockwellian region of the US, the Midwest.

It’s a an absolutely beautiful book and embraces that eating local and farm to table is really just plain old eating for many rural Americans. It’s like I wrote for a piece called “Being Southern is a State of Mind” for CNN’s Eatocracy, “We were country when country wasn’t cool.” Residents of the Midwest have been living off the bounty of the land since the pioneer days.

Judith is one half of the dynamic duo, the witty, wise-crackin’ BBQ Queens along with Karen Adler. The two of them have written over 20 cookbooks together – and sold over 1/2 million books. Phew.

However, Judith isn’t simply tongs and tiaras. She is a fellow alumni of Ecole de Cuisine LaVarenne and part of Anne Willan’s La Varenne Mafia.

This cook knows her stuff.

Heartland marries modern cooking with an authentic approach to the bounty of the land, presenting 150 recipes for farm-bounty fare. It’s far more than pig and polka. Heartland embraces the spirit and flavors of the modern farmhouse. Judith highlights ethnic food traditions, seasonal flavors, artisan producers, heirloom ingredients, and heritage meats.

Included are recipes for Chocolate Buttermilk Poundcake, Heirloom Bean Ragout stuffed in Acorn Squash, Four Seasons Flatbread, and Bacon Bloody Mary – with housemade bacon vodka –  that you are certain to enjoy regardless of where you call home.

Since you’ve likely got the grill going with BBQ Chicken or Steaks this weekend, I am featuring a couple of recipes to serve for apps and snacks. I’m sharing my own recipe for Quick Pickled Vegetables to go along with Judith’s recipes for Smoked Goat Cheese, Branding Iron Beef, and {End of} Summer Sangria.

Mama’s Reading List

A couple of weeks ago I started a section to let you know where I’ve been and what I’m up to. As tour dates firm up I’ll add those here, too. This section happens to be my mama’s favorite. 

Kim Severson, author of Spoonfed and writer for the New York Times asked me about field peas for a piece titled Last Call for Summer. Other delicious treats to make sure you have before summer’s end include peaches, flank steak, corn, and blackberries. (Click through to see them all — and it’s interactive. You can share your essential summer eating recipes, too.)

Icebox pies are hot according to the Oregonian. Leslie Cole speaks to Martha Foose and also recommends a litany of Southern books by me as well as Nancy McDermott, Sara Foster, and Hugh Acheson.

Check out what tea-expert Lisa Boalt Richardson says about coffee and  My Southern Pantry!

And, by the way, I’ll be back at Williams-Sonoma at Lenox Mall this Labor Day weekend on Saturday 3 September from 12-4 pm for the Artisan Market series.

Bon Appetit, Y’all!

Serves 8 to 10

1 cucumber
1 red onion, halved and thinly sliced
8 cups assorted cut vegetables such as carrots, cauliflower florets, green beans, wax beans, and small okra
6 cups distilled white vinegar
2 cup sugar
¾ cup kosher salt
1 large garlic clove, cut into slivers
1 teaspoon mustard seeds
1 teaspoon coriander seeds
1 teaspoon white peppercorns
4 small red peppers

Prepare an ice-water bath by filling a large bowl with ice and water. Remove alternating stripes of peel from the cucumbers. Set aside.

Bring a large pot of salted water to a rolling boil over high heat. Fill a large bowl with ice and water and set aside. Place the 8 cups of vegetables in the boiling water and let cook until vibrant in color but still firm, 1-2 minutes. Drain the vegetables well in a colander, and then set the colander with the vegetables in the ice-water bath (to set the color and stop the cooking), making sure the vegetables are submerged. Drain well. Set aside.

Place ½ the red onion, garlic, mustard seeds, coriander seeds, and peppercorns in the bottom of a large sealable bowl or jar. Transfer the blanched vegetables to the jar, layering to alternate the color and texture. Layer in remaining ½ onion, cucumber, and peppers.

Combine vinegar, sugar, and salt in a large saucepan over medium-high heat. Cook until the mixture comes to just under a boil. Pour mixture directly over vegetables and spices. Depending on the size container and the size of the vegetables you may not use all of the vinegar. Allow the mixture to cool to room temperature. Cover or seal and store refrigerated, stirring occasionally, for at least 48 hours. Serve well-chilled.

How to Smoke Tomatoes and Goat Cheese:

When you’re already grilling something else, put these on at the end and you’ll have double the pleasure. You can make any quantity of smoked tomatoes or goat cheese with this easy method.

1. Prepare an indirect fire in your grill, with no fire on one side. For a charcoal grill, place about 1 cup wood chips on ashed-over coals. For a gas grill, place ½ cup of wood chips in a metal smoker box or in a homemade aluminum foil packet with holes punched in the top; place the smoker box or packet nearest to a gas jet.

2. Stem and core the tomatoes, brush them with olive oil, and put them in a disposable aluminum pan. Brush a log of goat cheese with olive oil and place it in a disposable aluminum pan. Place the pan(s) on the indirect side of the grill. When you see the first wisp of smoke, close the lid. The tomatoes and goat cheese take about 30 minutes or until they have a burnished appearance and a smoky aroma.

3. Peel and seed the tomatoes. To puree, put the peeled and seeded tomatoes in a food processor and puree until smooth.

Branding Iron Beef with Smoked Tomato Drizzle
Serves 8

Kansas is, literally, “home on the range”—at least it was to Brewster Higley, the Smith County settler who wrote the song there in 1871. Today, there are still deer and even a few antelope, but mainly beef cattle in the Flint Hills and the western prairie. To make your taste buds sing, get your outdoor grill a-smokin’ so you can rustle up this easy version of beef carpaccio. The beef gets a little tasty char around the outside, is very rare inside, and has a smoky sauce to finish. You can make the sauce and grill the beef a day ahead, then assemble the thin slices a few hours before your guests arrive and keep chilled.

For the Smoked Tomato Drizzle:
1 cup mayonnaise
1 tablespoon smoked tomato puree (see How to Smoke Tomatoes and Goat Cheese)
¼ cup bottled smoked chipotle pepper sauce

For the beef:
1 pound boneless eye of round, top loin. or beef tenderloin
Olive oil for brushing
Coarse kosher or sea salt and cracked black pepper
Drained capers and baby arugula for garnish

1. For the drizzle, whisk together the mayonnaise, tomato, and smoked chipotle pepper sauce in a small bowl until smooth. Transfer to a plastic squeeze bottle. Chill 8 appetizer plates.

2. Prepare a hot fire in your grill and place a cast iron skillet or griddle on the grill grate to heat for 20 to 30 minutes.

3. Brush the steak with olive oil and season the exterior with salt and pepper. When the skillet is very hot, sear the beef on all sides until blackened, about 1 to 2 minutes per side.

4. Let the beef rest until it is at room temperature. Cover with plastic wrap. To serve the same day, place it in the freezer for 30 minutes to firm up. To serve the next day, place in the refrigerator, then in the freezer for 30 minutes.

5. Using a mandoline or a very sharp knife, cut the beef into paper-thin slices and arrange on the chilled plates. To serve, drizzle the sauce on each plate in a cross-hatch pattern and scatter with capers and arugula.

{End of} Summer Sangria
Serves 8

Stir up a pitcher on a hot day, then sit back and relax. It’s summer! Choose a semi-dry white wine from Heartland wineries and a Triple Sec made in Cincinnati, Ohio. Perhaps a Prairie Fume from Wollersheim in Wisconsin or the Vignole from Sainte Genevieve Winery in Missouri, and De Kuyper Triple Sec from Ohio.

2 bottles semi-dry white wine, chilled
2/3 cup Fresh Herb Syrup (see below)
2/3 cup Triple Sec
1 liter sparkling water
½ cup fresh lime juice, or to taste
2 cups fresh fruits in season, such as peach slices, strawberries, blackberries, blueberries, or gooseberries
Fresh lemon balm or basil sprigs to garnish
1. Combine the wine, syrup, Triple Sec, sparkling water, and lime juice over ice in a large pitcher. Add some fruit to the pitcher, portion the rest among 8 glasses. Pour in the sangria, then garnish with a sprig of lemon balm.

Fresh Herb Syrup
Makes about 1 cup

For this recipe, use the freshest, most aromatic tender herbs you can find, such as basil, mint, or lemon balm.
1 cup sugar
3/4 cup water
1/2 cup fresh, aromatic herb leaves, packed, coarsely chopped
1. In a large, microwave-safe glass measuring cup, combine the sugar, water, and herbs. Microwave on high until the sugar dissolves, about 3 to 4 minutes. Let the mixture steep for 20 to 30 minutes. Then, strain the mixture into a bowl and let cool. Use right away or store in a covered glass jar in the refrigerator for up to 2 weeks.

corn, pickled vegetables, and field photos by me.

Judith’s recipes and images from Heartland: The Cookbook by Judith Fertig/Andrews McMeel Publishing
Please be nice. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission is prohibited. Feel free to excerpt and link, just give credit where credit is due and send folks to my website, Thanks so much.

Sour Grapes and Sweet Maine Lobster Chowder Friday, Aug 26 2011 

I had planned on writing today’s post about my visit last week to Maine. Last weekend I taught at Stonewall Kitchen. It’s an amazing facility and they do an absolutely great job. We stayed at the York Harbor Inn. We enjoyed walks on the beach, picnics, and just had a wonderful time. It was truly fantastic.

But then, yesterday morning I opened my inbox with a solicitation to write a post about a specific fast casual restaurant that makes me want to instead write about the current state of food writing.

It got my gander up. It stirred my pot. It burnt my biscuit.

I am a simple creature. I cook, I eat, I write recipes. The last time I used this blog as my soapbox was with Julia and Julie: Yes, the Swap is Intentional. I got all sorts of haters for that one. I usually stifle my comments about recipe development and blogging because it can sound like I have sour grapes and my grapes aren’t sour at all.

I love to write. I love to write almost as much as I love to cook. I write this blog to write. Shauna, author of glutenfreegirl recently said, “She didn’t want visitors or hits, she wanted readers.”

Amen, sister.

As you can see, I don’t accept advertising on my blog. It’s not that I am absurdly purist. And, I write for money. It’s how I make my living. I have a mortgage and bills, too. Truthfully, I flat out don’t like the way ads and banners look. I don’t know that much about them, but my preliminary research shows that one can make $3-10 per 1000 pageviews. I know there are also other ways to monetize your blog. There’s a lot to consider when thinking about advertising. I very well may consider it, but I am not there quite yet.

I guess, the primary reason I don’t advertise is that the main focus of my writing is my cookbooks. I didn’t go blog to book, I went book to blog.

Back to what got me riled up and away from the beauty of Maine….

The email stated they were “looking for influencers to let their readers know about these new value offers.” There were several points of criteria to be met and encouragement to also promote the post with social media like Twitter and Facebook. It was described as limited spots available, so please hurry.

The payment was $20.

I am not sure what is worse, not being paid at all or being paid $20. The whole campaign devalues food writing as a whole.

I would not participate in this, it’s not appropriate for me, regardless of the amount of money.

The part that’s stirred my pot is that this sort of campaign does effect my bottom line. It’s the same attitude that leads a Big Kitchen Appliance Company or Big Food Commodity to create a social media promotion with #giveaways instead of hiring a professional food writer or recipe developer to do real work for a real wage.

Why should they? They can giveaway a ding dang spatula or a coupon for a carton of orange juice and get more bang for their buck — and whether the recipe is original or tested seems to be absolutely, completely irrelevant.

Then, there are even crazier situations in that the Big Food Company essentially wants stone-cold free labor. Dianne Jacob wrote about an totally outrageous request put forth to Amy Sherman from Cooking with Amy in that they wanted her to pay roughly $2000 in expenses for the opportunity to promote her blog…. BTW, I consider Dianne the “Dean of Internet Food Writing.” Her blog out and out states that it’s “Pithy snippets about food writing.” She’s smart, saavy, and has the experience to back it up.

The deal is many bloggers sign up for such promotions and are happy to take the free trips, coupons, and giveaways. I had an earlier situation this week when a food blogger used my recipes for a promotional post for which he was compensated with essentially, $30 of trinkets. He did ask me permission first, but he did not reveal it was a promotional post — or I didn’t catch it if he did.

In the end, it benefited me because he linked to my site and blog, I can chalk it up to marketing, etc etc. It was fine. It promoted my book. I’ve met him in person and we know each other through social media. He seems to be a really nice person, but he was used by the Big Food Company and the Big Food Company essentially got to use my recipes without compensating me.

It’s not all bad. Not by a long shot. There’s a lot of good in the blogosphere. The response to the heart-wrenching situation with Jennifer Perillo brought to the forefront Bloggers without Borders, a non-profit organization helping connect bloggers to one another, and helping them to assist others in need. And, it’s just phenomenal that we now have this self-publishing option. There’s a lot of really talented people that can cook, write, create art through photography — and all of whom are sharing their passion online.

I love what I do. I work hard, but I eat well and I make a decent living writing about food.

So, to be clear, you’ll find no sour grapes here, and I do hope you enjoy my recipe for Sweet Maine Lobster Chowder.

Thanks for listening.

Bon Appétit, Y’all!

Serves 6

This is a wonderfully flavorful summer soup. I have made the crème fraîche optional – after accidentally leaving it out once when I taught it to a class. Surprisingly, I liked it even better!

2 1 1/2 pound lobsters
2 large onions, chopped
2 bay leaves, preferably fresh
Scraped kernels from 8 ears fresh sweet corn (about 4 cups)
3 cups lobster stock (recipe in body of recipe)
1/2 pound bacon, diced
1 large carrot, peeled and finely diced
1 rib celery, finely diced
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/3 cup crème fraîche, optional
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 bunch fresh chives, chopped
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper

Bring a large stockpot of salted water to boil. Blanch the lobsters for 4 minutes. Reserve cooking water.

Remove the lobsters from the water; break off the claws and tail. Remove the tomalley from the body. Using kitchen shears cut the lobster tails open and crack open the claws. Remove the lobster meat and cut into bite-size pieces, refrigerate until needed.

To make the lobster stock: Using the back of a chef’s knife, crush the head and shells. Using a large saucepan over high heat, combine lobster head and shells and enough of the water used to cook the lobsters to cover, about 2 quarts. Add one onion and bay leaves. Bring to a boil, skim, and reduce to medium low. Simmer, skimming occasionally, until liquid is flavorful, 30 minutes to 1 hour. Pour stock through a fine sieve into a heatproof bowl. Discard the lobster shells and set aside 6 cups of stock. Save the remaining stock for another use.

Using a food processor fitted with a blade attachment, puree 2 cups of the corn with 2 cups of the lobster stock until smooth, set aside.

Using a large saucepan over medium heat, cook the bacon until crisp, about 5 minutes. Transfer the bacon to paper towels to drain and set aside. Remove all but 1 tablespoon of the bacon fat. Add the remaining onion, remaining corn, celery, and cayenne pepper. Cook until the vegetables soften, about 5 minutes. Add the remaining 4 cups of lobster stock and corn puree. Stir to combine and simmer until slightly thickened, about 10 minutes. (Remove soup from heat, whisk in the optional crème fraîche.) Taste and adjust for seasoning with salt and pepper.

Meanwhile, heat the butter in a medium saute pan over medium high heat. Add the reserved lobster meat and sauté just until heated through, about 2 minutes. Ladle the chowder into warm serving bowls. Garnish with lobster meat, bacon, and chives. Serve immediately.

photos by me.

Please be nice. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission is prohibited. Feel free to excerpt and link, just give credit where credit is due and send folks to my website, Thanks so much.

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