Eat Boutique

I’ve written for magazines and websites in the past, but I’m particularly excited to announce that I’m writing a column over at IzzitGreen.com starting now! IzzitGreen is a new rating and review site launched last month. You can visit IzzitGreen to find out both how good and how green your local businesses are. I’m writing about food (big surprise!) and all the ways to be more friendly to our earth as we dine, cook and eat. Check out my latest column, all about community-supported agriculture, called “Welcome to My Farm.” Please post your comments over there, as I’m excited to jointly explore how we can all eat good and green.

I had quite an interesting exchange this evening. We had run out of vegetables from our farm share so I popped into the local fruit stand to pick up some salad greens and fruit. Calareso’s Fruit Stand is located in Reading, Massachusetts, and sells fresh vegetables, fruit, plants, flowers and baked goods. (During the winter, they sell Christmas trees and  evergreen wreaths.) The stand is a fairly hot spot during the early evening hours, especially with folks picking up last minute additions to their dinner table.

I picked up some cherry tomatoes, noticed they were from Mexico and returned them to their spot. Just not worth the increasing my carbon footprint, let alone the unknown pesticides. I pondered a package of strawberries from California, and decided to let my hunger for strawberries overtake my desire to buy local or organic, and shoved them into my cart (of course, quietly looking around for the “local” and “organic” police, who were no where to be found).

I added several greens to my cart, including bags of arugula, basil and mixed salad greens marked solely with the Calareso’s label. I began to wonder where all these greens were born. Calareso’s didn’t have a farm per se, so they likely purchased all these items at some wholesale market. But beyond that, where the heck did these greens come from? If I wasn’t going to eat organic, I could at the very least focus on supporting farmers in New England, or at least the east coast, and do my little part to reduce my carbon footprint. I really, really wanted to know where these greens came from, so decided to broach the subject at the checkout. And, despite a young 20-something gal at the register, I decided to give my “local” speech a shot.

I told the young woman that I had a notion for her to float up the corporate chain. It went something like: “Wouldn’t it be awesome if you labeled the origin of all your produce so I could choose to support local farmers?”

She said something like: “Well, we buy from the produce market daily and the growers change daily, so that’d be impossible to maintain.”

So I was like: “Well, you could have laminated signs that you wipe clean and re-write on each morning.”

And she was all: “Well, that’s a lot of work.”

So I was like: “Well, I guess, but it’s worth it for your customers. I want to know and I’m sure lots of others would appreciate knowing they were supporting local farmers.”

As her eyes glazed over, she said: “Well, that’s an interesting an idea.”

I realized I was speeching to deaf ears and decided to move on with my non-local groceries. Once home, my husband giggled at my attempt to wise up some 20-something. I insisted that kids these days were allegedly far more eco-aware than us old folks, and that my fruit stand clerk was an anomaly. Or, at least, I hoped.

As I assembled the above salad, I worried for all those 20-somethings who didn’t care where their food was born. Sure, the salad is pretty and was quite tasty, but I grieved for my hard-earned dollars potentially going to corporate farmers. I grieved for the carbon release I had supported. I grieved for all those 20-somethings who simply don’t know better yet… but knew, one day, they would.

Twenty million things to do before my next business trip, to Las Vegas. I’ve never been, ever, and am getting very excited about the sites I’ll see. As I prepare to get wide-eyed and awed, I want to leave a clean fridge and pantry at home, so the husband and I get to whipping up an early morning breakfast.

We’ve been on this fairly new eating plan that encourages consumption of loads of vegetables at each sitting, along with a touch of protein, fat, grain and fruit. While he gently fries a couple fresh farm eggs, I get to chopping the organic produce. We had a perfectly ripe avocado, ready for the smooshing. The pineapple is sweet and juicy beyond belief. The cucumber crisp and ready for a little salt. (I should add that all this organic produce came to me via our CSA at Green Meadows, but during these still chilly Spring months, most of it is still shipped in.)

The cutting board looked so full and gorgeous, I had to quickly share before I zoom off to work. I love using every little piece of food in the house, never wanting to waste anything we spent hard-earned dollars on nor anything that some hard-working farmer grew with care. Always remember the love that births your food, as while we love avocado, we know someone else loved it to creaminess in order to grace our table.

On this past week’s visit to the farm, we met the latest batch of chicks. They had hatched only the day before and were the sweetest things. This one tilted her head a lot and gave me several bizarre looks, but I loved her anyway.

Notice all the chard, rosemary and little citrus trees in the background. These little gems will all soon be in my garden. In about two months. Hurry up, planting season!

Sometimes, you don’t realize that you have glamorous vegetables in your kitchen. I always think of fennel salad as fairly glamorous and thus a touch out of reach for the everyday home cook. I’m not quite sure where this crazy notion originated.

Sure, fennel is a bit unfamiliar to the everyday cook. It’s not used as regularly as say broccoli or spinach. It has a slightly anise flavor that turns many who encounter it off, like my husband. It’s also this odd bulbous shape that doesn’t lend itself well to easy preparation. Either cut it up for roasting, or what else? Break out a mandolin for fine shavings? Who has a mandolin?

Well, of course, I do. But this bulb never touched its fine blades. I was inspired by a Barefoot Contessa episode, one in which she uses the slicing blade of her food processor to prepare the fennel. It’s such a natural thought, but one that never crossed my mind. (I suppose I’m a little slow…)

Confessions aside, I sliced me up some fennel (two bulbs, to be exact) and tossed the results with orange slices (peeled, sliced across the grain to create pinwheels) and fresh arugula. All of these items came from our local CSA this past week. The oranges were of course shipped in from Florida and thus not local, but they were organic and that’s the best you can ask for during these cold New England winters.

I piled all these farm finds on a plate and tossed in the juice from 1/2 a lemon, some generous pours of my favorite extra virgin olive oil, kosher salt and freshly ground pepper. A quick mix blended the glorious orange sweetness with the peppery arugula and the licorice-scented fennel. The lemon juice made it all sparkle. A quick chop of the fennel fronds, a glorious herb in and of itself, on top provided the perfect final touch, like diamond earrings to a gorgeous ball gown.

I towered a generous serving in a bowl for myself, and a slightly smaller serving for my husband. He went back for seconds. This from the man who spit up the roasted fennel I had prepared for him earlier in the season. He loved this salad. I consider my recipe successful when my husband, who hates all forms of vegetables, goes back for seconds.

Late Winter / early Spring is the season for big, full bulbs of fennel and fresh oranges (from the South). Do search them both out and whip up this glamorous salad. So glamorous, in fact, I’ll be eating leftovers while watching the Oscars tonight. Now it’s just deciding what couture goes with fennel… Anyone?