Okra just might win the award for most maligned, or slimed, vegetable!  But this method of preparation changes everything and results in a perfect finger food!

I grew up on the stuff and can happily eat okra sautéed, stewed or fried (my mother made a delicious dish of sliced okra and tomatoes baked with strips of bacon).  But roasting it makes it a hit even with non-believers, as I discovered recently.  Pirrie called out to Scott as soon as he walked in the door, “Dad, come taste my new favorite food.”  I had purchased a small amount at the Wednesday Portland Farmers Market, not certain how they would figure into the evening meal.  A very nice woman originally from Texas and I had a nice chat about our okra plans.  We were both obviously tickled to have someone to talk about to okra (see… just buying such a Southern vegetable will make you say things like “tickled.”)  I also couldn’t resist these adorable Fairytale Eggplant. Cook ‘em?  Hug ‘em?

I was leaning toward a quick sauté, along with tomatoes and onions.  But I was trying to recall something I had seen about roasting them?  I don’t remember running across roasted okra in Louisiana, and I wonder why not?   I thought it was worth a try.  A quick look online revealed only a few recipes and different approaches (whole pods vs. sliced), but the argument to keep the pods whole was more compelling.  In this way, the slime does not develop and the roasting caramelizes the natural sugar in the vegetable which results in better flavor.  Small, more tender pods will work better than bigger, tougher ones.  I tossed them with a very small amount of olive oil, salt and pepper and a smidge of ground cumin, and roasted 15-20 minutes at 400.  (I’d probably up it to 450 and cut the amount of time next time for even better color and caramelization).  I stirred some curry powder into mayo to make a quick dip, which was yummy, but it was just as good plain.  Maybe a roasted tomato dip?  We liked them just out of the oven, at room temp and even cold, the next day.

Turns out that okra is a nutritional powerhouse, but they will disappear because they are delicious.  Now that we’re hooked, I’m just hoping I can find the okra again….

I’m happy to have recently connected with an old schoolmate.  John Currence was a couple of grades ahead of me at Isidore Newman School in New Orleans, now chef of four immensely popular eateries in Oxford, Miss.  Look for his September article in Food & Wine Magazine about lying in a hospital bed, recuperating from a near-fatal pancreatitis, musing about how to give his favorite dishes (that had nearly killed him) a healthy make-over.  While stuck on his backside, he discovered Heidi Swanson’s blog, 101 Cookbooks, which I like very much as well.  Last summer I made her Summer Squash Gratin recipe and couldn’t wait to try it again.  I served it last week for a very special occasion…a dinner party in honor of Scott’s birthday, with my mother and siblings and their spouses.  It is absolutely delicious — both decadent and bright at the same time, with the boost from the lemon zest and herbs.  (I was introduced to this recipe and to the blog by Juliette Levy (aka, David Millman’s better, oops, other half). 

Just-picked summer squash from our garden - yellow zucchini and crooked neck. This is my first year planting squash.

Last night, for dinner in our home, I served the same gratin recipe to our wonderful French friends and top Burgundy producers, Thiébault Huber and Catherine and Patrick Essa, alongside some home grown Burgundy beans and some fresher than fresh Chinook Salmon (cured first with sugar, salt and pepper, then grilled).  See below for further notes on the gratin recipe.*  For dessert?  A fresh fruit tart.  I recommended last summer that you make it.  It’s still a hit and nothing could be simpler.  (Really.  It is without a doubt the absolute easiest, quickest dessert in my collection of recipes, yet guests will think you are a pastry wizard).

This was taken last summer. Last night, my 9-year-old sous-chef topped the tart with super ripe blueberries, my preference for the fruit, and a heart-shaped center of just-picked raspberries. I also usually pulse some lavender with the sugar in making the crust, and have on occasion added lemon zest to the custard.

Anyway, it got the French guests dancing!  (OK, perhaps what got us dancing were the lovely Huber-Verdereau rosé, the 2000 Drappier Grande Sendrée Champagne, the 2006 Domaine Buisson-Charles Meursault Bouches-Chères 1er Cru, 08 Audrey, etc, etc.)

*Gratin recipe notes:  I’ve prepared the gratin ahead of serving time in two different ways.  One, I prepared according to recipe, bread crumb topping and all and froze.  After reheating, I drizzled with the additional herb oil.  It worked.  It was roundly well-regarded and dug into for seconds.  Maybe better though is to prepare the gratin minus the bread crumb topping, cook (maybe slightly less than recommended).  Cool.  Freeze.  Thaw.  Reheat with bread crumbs, then drizzle with the extra herb oil.  By the way, I just drizzled some leftover herb oil onto briefly steamed fresh green beans.  Delicious!

If short on time to make the gratin, how about sautéing squash in a large skillet, and topping with a sprinkling of grated gruyère, the herb oil and the toasted breadcrumbs or crushed up croutons?

Oh, the garden.  The GARDEN.  Have I mentioned how fruit I am for the little veggie plot I tend?  I’m separated from it for a week at a time, and occasionally two weeks.  The 9-year-old and I literally jump out of the car to see what has happened.  The potato plants have flowered, then flopped over.  The tomato plant has grown to 20 times the size of the original start.  The beets greens have leafed, the second planting of carrots is sprouting, and the kale plant is about 2 1/2 feet tall and growing as I continue harvesting the leaves.

fistfuls of beet, kale and chard.

The green bean plants sometimes grow so quickly you’d swear you can hear them stretching, sending out tendrils and hooks that find their way up a trellis like a determined child compelled to take her first steps.   I simply will never get over how stubbornly, aggressively willful these plants are to fulfill their destiny.  Even in the face of, or because of, my neglect.  Lest you think I am bragging or have a talent, I really want to assure you that this is about dna, and soil, and water and light.  The plants grow because they are supposed to and they do.  (Disclaimer:  except you, cilantro.  I have no idea what your problem is, but that’s another story).

The author of You Grow Girl was inspired by her grandmother growing potatoes in buckets on a balcony.  Our dear friends grew potatoes accidentally because they sprouted in the compost heap.  It still slays me that I push a small piece of one potato into the earth and get a basket full of them later.

Hard to beat the thrill of the potato treasure hunt!

And one little green pea will produce all that foliage and pounds of beans.

A Burgundy Bush Bean sprout. It all begins so humbly. It's a miracle that breaks my heart open with joy. Except for you, Star of David Okra, you were a soil nutrient hogging dud, which is why you weren't invited back this year.

(Ok, I won’t deny it.  I was a little bummed about the okra.  That was last year.  But I’m almost over it.)

crooked neck squash or yellow zucchini - not sure which. I never liked squash until I ate baby squash which are very yummy sauteed with a sweet onion such as Walla Walla and a tomato and served with cous-cous or something like that.

Scott loves beets and their greens, so I love growing and cooking them for him! The beet starts came from our friends Cris & Susan Stubberfield and their Carlton greenhouse. Their veggie starts come wired for success. Last year we planted one of their small cucumber starts and had a medium sized cuke 7 days later! I wouldn't believe it either except that I wrote it down!

It’s not too late to get your hands a little dirty.  Kale and chard are easy and rewarding.  Or maybe some basil and a cherry tomato.  I’d love to know what your favorite foolproof crops are, or the perennial losers.  In the meantime, wishing you happy garden eats!

Well, from soup to popsicle weather…in 3 days.  On July 4th, we wore jackets.

Scott's son Kevin with little sister P, at Latourell Falls in the Columbia River Gorge

Three days later, the thermometer hit 100, and we needed relief.  With the lavender fest going on last weekend in the town of Yamhill, and the new shaved ice stand in the park in Carlton offering up herbal infusions alongside the standard kid flavors, I was inspired to make lemon-lavender popsicles at home.  (Garin Poole, girlfriend of Marcus Goodfellow, owner of Matello Wines, has opened a stand right in the park, next to our community pool - try her homemade rosemary syrup!) I found this recipe, and added 1/4 teaspoon of dried lavender to the simple syrup while it simmered, and strained it out later.  So very yum.  Maybe next we’ll try cucumber mint or watermelon lime?

Sun today?  Really?  If this is a dream, it is a great one.  With this cool, wet spring, our vegetable gardens are behind, just as the vineyards are.  It can be frustrating and humbling, but Nature rules and we have to roll with it.  Yes, the slugs got way too much of a head start.  But my experience over the last several years is that even after leaf-miners or slugs take their helping, there is enough to go around.

Inside those nibbled on exterior leaves is a beautiful soft buttery heart.

This is my first year growing butter lettuce and because they grow flush to the soil, rather that upwards like some other lettuce blends, they do invite more slimey garden party crashers, but it’s worth it and I’ll grow it again next year.  We’re enjoying butter lettuce greens with homemade blue cheese dressing, with avocados, and here, with thick cut bacon, housemade at nearby Chop, and hard-boiled eggs from Champoeg Farm.  This was declared a “best salad ever.”  Homemade croutons make all the difference.  Toss cubed bread in a skillet with 1-2 tablespoons of great olive oil, kosher salt and freshly ground pepper and just stir occasionally over medium heat until crispy.  I learned this from working with Chefs Mary Sue Milliken and Susan Feniger.  These croutons are so delicious with soup.  Did I mention that I love homemade croutons?  Just checking.

It…is…still…raining…!

But I’m feeling good.  Hey, at least my lettuce is happy.

The Chard and Kale are also content with the cool temps and the rain.  I’ve harvested about 1.5 pounds of them already and they are just getting started, so I did a quick scan through a revered cookbook to get ideas for preparing these greens, so that the family won’t get tired of the simple sauté.  I don’t quite get why the revered cookbook and another source talk about Chard stems as something to cut off and use separately.  The revered cookbook goes so far as to call them a completely different vegetable than the leaves.  That’s not at all the case with what I’m harvesting - maybe because I’m harvesting them young?  Anyway, this was very tasty the other night.  I sautéed 13 ounces of rainbow chard, stems and all…

in 2 teaspoons of olive oil (that had been steeped with a tiny bit of chopped garlic - something I had on hand), and once wilted, I tossed in a handful of chopped green olives (castelvetrano, the bright green, buttery ones), golden raisins, and the tiniest bit of shaved grana padano cheese.    Some toasted pine nuts would have been great.  It was delightful alongside oven-fried chicken, which is in regular rotation at our house. It was declared a “dream dinner” — by the big people and the little people.  That is another source of happiness.

And so is the memory of last night’s Award-Winning Chefs Dinner, a special Classic Wines Auction event of which we were honored to be a part, along with Chehalem, St. Innocent and Matello.  The chefs were Philippe Boulot (The Heathman, Portland), Ethan Stowell (Union/How to Cook a Wolf, et al, Seattle), Jason Wilson (Crush, Seattle) and Cory Schreiber (founder, Wildwood, Portland).  We had such fun table mates.  I’m looking forward to reading Jennifer Heigl’s “dish” on the evening on her popular blog, Daily Blender.  We had the pleasure of sitting with her last night.  Jason Wilson’s lamb with an orange/olive sauce, served with baby spring vegetables and morels that was paired with our 08 Audrey Pinot.  If that doesn’t chase away the rainy day blues, what will?  Maybe a photo from the new Thursday evening Portland Farmers Market in NW Portland.

I’ve been experiencing food euphoria.  The Farmer’s Markets opened.  I’ve got beautiful kale, chard and lettuce producing.  The carrot seeds…they came up!  Even though we’ve had a tease of a spring (actually typical in Oregon - some false spring weather gets us in our cropped pants and sandals and digging around in the garden and then bone-chilling relentless rains send us scurrying for the coffeehouses again), I can’t feel down, because I’ve already tasted spring and it is delicious!

A Farmer’s Market is such an inspiration and automatically turns my mind to simpler, flavor-packed preparations.  I wasn’t sure how I would use the rhubarb that I bought on the Market’s opening day, but I couldn’t resist its gorgeous hue.  Try this recipe for jam (see small-batch strawberry jam) — it’s perfect for those of us who don’t want to “put up” and just want enough to eat some now and maybe share a jar.  No equipment, no technique, just a skillet.  You can do it if I can.  Really, you “can.”  It only takes a few minutes, but the domestic goddess glow will stay with you for days.

rhubarb and strawberries from the farmer's market prepped for preserves. It's only the second time I've ever used rhubarb. It has a nice bright tart flavor like a green apple. I just subbed in some rhubarb for some of the strawberries in the recipe.

sauteed in the skillet with lemon juice and sugar - less sugar than many recipes call for...

spread on homemade bread (see recipe in previous post)...

Other memorable recent meals have been inspired by the Market too.  Tastebud Farm serves pizza straight from the wood-burning brick oven with toppings from neighboring vendors such as sauteed collards, spring onions and pecorino romano.

...oh, I forgot about the lardons. That really was delicious.

At home, I’ve been improvising my own versions, this one with mushrooms, duck salami, roasted asparagus and a buffalo-milk cheese.  (I prefer very thin crust, and no tomato sauce.  Pizza is never round in our house.  Sometimes the shape of Africa, but never round).  Here’s the pizza dough recipe that we love.

Before I get in a rut or a rush and pick up a prepared dinner that is overly salty and sweet from Trader Joe’s (as I did recently), I have to remember this dish — maybe the best nosh of recent memory — a simple dinner of roasted asparagus, gruyere, salami (Mario Batali’s dad’s brand), on fresh bread.  Here I made the bread, but Pearl Bakery or Grand Central would be great.  Yum!

It’s actually pouring rain as I wrap this up.  But I’ll be back in my little garden as soon as I can.

If there is anything I love more than a party with great food, it would be a party with great food with great leftovers.  I was lucky enough to have some of Paul Bachand’s pickled golden beets left over from an event at the winery, catered by Farm to Fork, (with bonus cloves of pickled garlic!).  For me, these are just right and not too heavy on the vinegar.  They brought sunshine to my plate of arugula, crumbled blue cheese, and some toasty maple glazed pecans.

First, a photo of this really easy, rustic-looking galette that my crew swooned over.  Rustic is code for ugly.  This is a fine place for baking beginners, like me.  I’ll make it again, improvising the ingredients along with the seasons and IOH (ingredients on hand).  I think it would make a fab Easter brunch offering.

Pancetta, Caramelized Onion and Goat Cheese Galette, right out of oven.

This is my absolute favorite kind of culinary exercise — trying something that has intrigued but also intimidated me for years, and then instantly adding it to the repertoire because it is easy and such a hit.  Maybe like me, you’ve longingly eyeballed sweet and savory tarts in bakeries or at farmer’s markets, but never got around to trying your hand.  Pastry is fussy, you thought, or tarts belong to the realm of baking goddesses.  Actually, it’s very simple and I don’t think it would be possible to turn out a bad one.  Really…once you enrobe in a buttery crust any combination of sautéed vegetables, mushrooms, cheese, etc, it’s all good, right?  It’s much lighter than quiche, and a small slice goes a long way when you serve it with a lightly dressed tangle of arugula.

I improvised liberally, from several recipes I looked at, and doubt I would ever make it the same way twice.  The big bonus here is that the basic pastry dough recipe is simpler and more streamlined than others I found.  It couldn’t be any easier.  And since it needs to chill for at least an hour, make it the day or two before.  You can also sauté and prep the toppings the day before, and then the tart can be a simple roll out-top-and-bake deal.

Here’s the recipe.

And more photos.

My grandmother's rolling pin...

top the rolled out dough with a little cheese and sautéed leeks, then...

add other ingredients, such as caramelized onions and cooked pancetta...

sprinkle with more cheese and fold her up...

remove from oven, let it sit for 10 minutes, and serve warm!