A Single Step

Italian Turnip and Rice Soup with Parmesan Cheese

Continuing my exploration of seasonal foods that I am not familiar with, I picked up some turnips from Specialty Farms of San Juan Bautista.  Like brussels sprouts, eggplant, fennel and sweet pumpkins before, turnips are another food that I had never eaten a meal nor cooked with before.

I had read descriptions of turnips tasting like slightly bitter potatoes, or "radish'y" and truthfully, I had no idea how I would prepare them when I bought them.  But given that the weather had been chilly lately, I found a soup recipe that called to me.

Despite sauteing the turnips before adding the Lundberg Family Farms arborio rice, I was pleasantly surprised at the flavors this soup yielded.  The turnips were fairly mild, but with a slightly sweet, nut-like taste that is accentuated by the parmigiano-reggiano cheese.

This is a nice, comforting soup that I will definitely make again.

Italian Turnip and Rice Soup with Parmesan Cheese (serves 6)

Ingredients

• 2 tablespoons butter
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1 pound of turnips, peeled and cut into 1/2-inch dice
• 3 pints (48 ounces) of chicken or vegetable stock
• 1/2-cup arborio rice
• salt & pepper
• parmigiano-reggiano cheese
• parsley (optional)

Preparation

• Melt the butter and oil in a large sauce pan and bring to a froth
• Toss in the turnips and saute until brown, about 5 minutes
• Pour in the stock, bring to a boil, reduce heat and cook covered for about 10 minutes
• Stir in the rice and cook, covered over medium heat, for about 15 minutes
• When ready to serve, add salt & pepper to taste, then parsley, then grated cheese

Enjoy!

A journey of eating local can begin with a single sip

How Stella Got Her Groove Back cocktail from Easy Lounge

In addition to the bevy of Bay Area restaurants that support local farms by serving locally grown foods on a regular basis, there appears to be a growing trend among Bay Area bartenders and mixologists to create cocktails also made from locally grown foods.

I originally learned of Easy Lounge's Saturday Farmers Market cocktails when I visited the Oakland bar in December.  Each Saturday morning, the bartenders head over to the Grand Lake Farmers Market around the corner to pick up fruits and vegetables to create their weekly $6 offerings from 2pm - 5pm.  Just as many chefs do, the bartenders at Easy Lounge let the season and product availability drive the cocktail menu.

This Wednesday, February 18, the folks at CUESA are hosting a Winter Farmers Market Cocktail Night at the Ferry Building.  For $25, you can sample seasonally inspired cocktails created from a wide range of guest bartenders from notable San Francisco locations such as Elixr, Seasons Bar at the Four Seasons, Rye, Rosewood & 15 Romolo, Jardiniere, Bourbon & Branch and Thirsty Bear Brewing Company.  The price allows you to taste 12 different seasonal creations, take home some recipes, enter drawings for prizes, and enjoy two signature drinks all in the name of supporting local, sustainable agriculture and the Bay Area cocktail culture.

Last Saturday, a friend and I made the trek from San Francisco to "research" the offerings at Easy Lounge.  Since it was Valentine's Day, each of the three cocktails available had names that referenced the holiday:

The Bloody Cupid was made with Absolut Peppar vodka, fresh-made garlic & radish infused tomato juice garnished with a celery stalk, a radish slice and a green olive;

The Hot Sweet Lovin' was made with Firefly Sweet Tea flavored vodka, Marshall's Farm natural honey (American Canyon, CA), meyer lemon juice and hot Mighty Leaf African Nectar tea (San Rafael, CA);

The How Stella Got Her Groove Back was made with Flor de Cana light rum, fresh strawberries and Oroblanco (a cross between pommelos and grapefruits) grapefruit juice served on the rocks with a sugar rim.

Oroblanco grapefruits

We chatted with a man and woman who were among the 30 or so people enjoying the cocktails, and they indicated that Saturday at Easy has become a regular tradition for them.  From reading reviews about Easy Lounge at yelp.com, it's pretty apparent that the Farmers Market cocktails are a noticeable and regular draw for quite a few people. 

Now if I could just find a bar within walking distance of my place in San Francisco that offers the same choices.

The wait for asparagus is over

I picked up a "second-cut" bunch of asparagus from Specialty Farms of San Juan Bautista while at the Heart of the City Farmers Market last week.  It was the only farm that had asparagus, and a subsequent check at my neighborhood Real Food indicated that it was still selling asparagus from Mexico.  I was happy when I found it as I have been dreaming of it for a couple of weeks now.

 

I’ve been checking the seasonality chart provided at  www.marinfarmersmarkets.org  to identify when the next crops might arrive, and have been chomping at the bit to find asparagus.  It’s one of those vegetables that I could eat 7 days a week.  Aside from green garlic, asparagus appears to be the only new crop that becomes available starting in February.

The second chapter of Barbara Kingsolver's book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle is entitled 'Waiting for Asparagus.'  In it, she describes how her family (which had just started a yearlong experiment of eating only home-grown or locally grown foods) was seeking a sign that their experience & journey had begun.  Of asparagus, she writes:

Now, in March, as we waited for a sign to begin living off the land, this completely bare patch of ground was no  burning bush of portent.  (Though it was blackened with ash – we’d burned the dead stalks of last year’s plants to kill asparagus beetles.) Two months from this day, when it would be warm enough to plant corn and beans, the culinary happenings of asparagus would be a memory, this patch a waist-high forest of feathery fronds.  By summer’s end they’d resemble dwarf Christmas trees covered with tiny red balls. Then frost would knock them down.  For about forty-eight weeks of the year, an asparagus plant is unrecognizable to anyone except an asparagus grower.  Plenty of summer visitors to our garden have stood in the middle of the bed and asked, “What is this stuff, it’s beautiful!” We tell them it’s the asparagus patch, and they reply, “No, this, these feathery little trees?”

 

Asparagus off-season

An asparagus spear only looks like its picture for one day of its life, usually in April, give or take a month as you travel from the Mason-Dixon line.  The shoot emerges from the ground like a snub-nosed green snake headed for sunshine, rising so rapidly you can just about see it grow.  If it doesn't get its neck cut off at the ground level as it emerges, it will keep growing.  Each triangular scale on the spear rolls out into a branch, until the snake becomes a four-foot tree with delicate needles.  Contrary to lore, fat spears are no more tender or mature than thin ones; each shoot begins life with its own particular girth.  In the hours after emergence it lengthens, but does not appreciably fatten.hens, but does not appreciably fatten.

Enjoy your asparagus!