Caviar. . . A Closer Look

A short article appeared in this month's SAVEUR on the subject of caviar, and I have never wanted to jump right into a photo more than this one. The shiny black eggs nestled in their stylish little tin look almost as if they could jump right off the page and straight into my mouth. The article got me thinking more about this often unattainable food, and its notorious questionable practices in harvesting. The beluga, sevruga and osetra sturgeon numbers dangerously declined by overfishing and poaching due to the high price set upon their eggs. For a time, eating traditional caviar was right up there with wearing a mink or leopard fur trench. Fortunately, caviar harvesting became strictly limited, and eventually numbers rebounded. During this time, the demand for caviar remained, forcing the industry to look elsewhere for alternative sources.

Nowadays, it is common to find trout and salmon caviar, among many others in specialty stores and by mail order. This is a good thing, because large oceanic creatures such as sturgeon, need ample time and opportunity to reach maturity, while other fish reproduce much more prolifically. However, true caviar connoisseurs do not care for substitutes. This is why aquaculture is being praised for producing a more sustainable version of traditional caviar.

According to the article, a little town called Calvisano, located between Venice and Milan, is known for Agroittica Lombarda, one of the most abundant caviar farms in the world. Raising white sturgeon since the 1980's, (and now osetra and beluga) using a continuous supply of fresh groundwater, their caviar is renowned for purity and taste. Although the industry will always struggle to keep harvesting practices balanced, places like Agroittica Lombarda are setting a fine example of how alternative farming methods, when mindfully operated, can sometimes reign supreme.

While the price for true caviar still remains high, (an ounce of Calvisius white sturgeon caviar sells for $61, the osetra for $89 an ounce), there are times when indulgence also has its benefits.

An excellent source of calcium and phosphorus, caviar also contains protein, iron, calcium, magnesium, and selenium. Vitamins include: B12, B2, B6, B44, C, A and D, as well as a whole host of important amino acids and precious Omega-3 fatty acids. Another perk; all of these benefits are gained from small portions. A little bit of caviar goes a long way nutritionally speaking.

I am not one to go overboard on frivolous food items, but all things considered, I may be putting in a special request to Santa Claus this year, with perhaps a mother-of-peal spoon to go alongside.

Lemon Turkey and Rice Soup

I look forward to this post-Thanksgiving soup almost as much as all the special dishes prepared for the holiday itself. I have fond memories of my mother picking all the leftover meat off the turkey and starting the bones to simmer in a large pot on the stove, while the last dishes were washed and second rounds of pumpkin pie were lazily served.

This soup also reminds me of my favorite Greek restaurant in Vienna, Virginia called Scorpios. We were devout customers originally introduced to the authentic fare by my Aunt Charlene who seemed to have an uncanny knowledge of where to take her hungry nieces and nephews when visiting. Scorpios' lemon chicken and orzo soup could bring one back from the dead. Its broth was rich and bright with citrus and herbs, and gently filling with the tender chicken and orzo. I will never forget it.

What I like most about this soup is how easy it is to throw together after the sweat and tears of Thanksgiving prep. After the bones simmer all day, producing the gelatin rich stock, just add turkey scraps, celery, carrots, herbs, lots of lemon and cooked brown rice. A bowlful soothes and satisfies without the heaviness of days prior. And it freezes well too, allowing you to thaw, sip, and reminisce on another blessed holiday past.

Lemon Turkey and Rice Soup: (serves 8-10)

*1 turkey carcass (preferably free-range/grass fed. This one came from East Fork Farm)

*water

*2 lemons

*4 celery stalks, sliced

*5 carrots, sliced

*2 bay leaves

*1 1/2 tsp dried oregano

*sea salt and pepper

*leftover roasted turkey meat, shredded (white and dark)

*1/2 cup fresh flat leaf parsley, chopped

*3 cups soaked and cooked brown rice

*3 Tbsp unsalted butter

Place turkey carcass and stray bones in a very large soup pot filled 3/4 full with cool water. Add 2 Tbsp white vinegar and 1 lemon cut into wedges.

Simmer for 4-6 hours. Strain into a large bowl. Cool and/or refrigerate. Skim most fat from top of stock.

Return about 14 cups of the stock to the washed soup pot. Add carrots, celery, bay leaves, and turkey. Season with sea salt and pepper. Simmer until vegetables are tender. Add oregano. Continue to cook until broth reaches desired depth. Adjust seasonings to taste. Add juice and zest from half of second lemon, parsley and rice. Add more lemon and zest to taste. Remove from heat. Add butter and stir until melted. Allow to cool slightly before ladling into bowls and serving.

*This post was graciously featured in the December 2010 issue of Plant Healer Magazine, a journal of traditional Western Herbalism.

November Lettuce

Brisk nights and a fair share of frost has not kept our garden from cranking out some of the best salad of the year. Speckled bib, buttercrunch, bronze arrowhead, Amish deer tongue, forellenschuss, green oakleaf, Rouge d'Hiver, arugula, cilantro, mustard greens, flat leaf Italian parsley, endive, Russian kale, collards. . . what else am I forgetting?

Anyway, the cool weather has sweetened and crisped the gorgeous array of leaves, and provided us with highly satisfying salad all season long.

I like to keep a jar of homemade grainy mustard vinaigrette handy at all times, sweetened with just a touch of local honey. Roasted sesame seeds are a nice addition as well. Other than that, the flavor of fall is fully present without any doctoring up. In fact, a drizzle of olive oil and a sprinkle of sea salt is one of my favorite ways to dress a bowlful of garden greens.

A Note to My Politicians

Hear me now:

Your pursuit for safety is as false as your concern for our health.

While you shake hands and lie in bed with chemical producers

and drug distributors

you cry out in the name of food safety,

to pasteurize, bleach, boil, package and inject

everything which passes our lips.

You can't serve it raw

because it is too dirty and dead.

You have never worked in real soil.

You have never washed earth off your food before preparing it.

You have never shaken sleepy bees from dewy blooms early in the day.

You are afraid of people who eat from their garden,

because their minds

are still their own.

Subsidize.

Pasteurize.

Sanitize.

Kill the small farmer.

Then sell us drugs

and flu shots.

Give us antidepressants.

Tell us to wear sunscreen and never go out into the sun.

Eat from a bag

or box

that's sealed and clean.

No I won't vote for this.

I have cast a different ballot,

and it is waiting at the end of my fork,

seared rare,

and dripping with unpasteurized cream sauce.

My hens will continue to lay warm eggs right into my fry pan

without your permission first.

I will give what little is left of the diminishing American dollar to my neighbor

in exchange for pastured pork

and raw milk.

I will spend time collecting seeds.

I will use butter liberally.

I will go out in the morning to harvest.

I will not drink your corn syrup.

I do not want your sterilized meat.

I don't want your drive-thrus and chains.

In the name of all that is patriotic,

I will drink milk straight from the happy cow.

Keep your red #40,

your food safety modernization act,

your myths.

Smoke your cigars and drink your scotch.

Sign your papers.

Legislate.

Your "safe" food

is a life lived behind bars.

If this is safety

keep it.

What you need

is some real food

my dear,

fear ridden

politician.

What you need

you will find

in raw milk cheddar

melted over homemade sourdough.

What you need

waits at the bottom

of a tall glass

brimming with handcrafted beer.

You will find peace

in slow roasted root vegetables,

dipping your crisp

thick-cut

pastured bacon

into your poached fresh egg.

Slurp a raw oyster

fresh from the sea.

Pass the butter.

Smell the herbs.

Drizzle the honey.

Break the bread.

I welcome you

to my renegade table,

my hungry politician.

But be prepared

to become

blinded

by the light.

Kiwifruit

Believe it or not, kiwifruit (originally known as Chinese gooseberry, native to Southern China) is both locally grown and seasonally available right now in Western North Carolina. A sweet couple from Little Sandy Mush have two very old vines which happened to do very well this year. They explained to me how kiwifruits are picky and conditions have to be just right to produce.

Lucky for many of us, they were willing to bring their harvest down from the mountain to share.

Kiwis have a lot going for them health wise. Not only do they contain good amounts of vitamin C and potassium (almost equivalent to a banana), they also contain fat-soluble vitamins E and A. The oil present in the seeds contains an an omega-3 fatty acid called alpha-linolenic acid.

Due to the presence of vitamin E and this omega-3 fatty acid, kiwifruits are thought to have blood thinning potential. A study conducted by the University of Oslo in Norway showed similarities between aspirin and the consumption of kiwifruit in reducing platelet aggregation and blood triglyceride levels, reducing the risk of blood clots.

Yet another reason to eat seasonally as a means of broadening our bodies' exposure to the health giving properties of various foods available throughout the year.

Personally, I have always enjoyed slicing through the delicate hairy skin of a kiwi to revel the most vibrant shade of green fruit patterned with shiny little black seeds. The taste used to remind me of far off tropical places where I imagined them growing alongside pineapples and papayas with toucans soaring overhead. Now the taste of a ripe kiwi once again reminds me of all the limitless bounty found in this special region I fondly call home.

Vanilla Custard

Yes, the custard was sampled before it was chilled. It was sitting there, cooling in the water bath. . . staring. Still warm and a little thinner than the finished product, every bite was worth the breach in patience. It tasted like Christmas. Sweetened with sourwood honey, and spiced with freshly grated nutmeg, I was reminded of something between eggnog and crème brûlée. Though not as fussy as crème brûlée (no torch needed), and fairly simple to make, custard to me, represents the perfect comfort food. Creamy, velvety, and not too sweet, this is bliss on a spoon.

Raw Jersey milk and eggs from the coop out back leave little to improve upon.

Vanilla Custard: Serves about 6

*4 cups raw whole milk

*4 free range eggs

*4 egg yolks

*1/2 cup raw honey

*2 tsp vanilla extract

*freshly grated nutmeg

Preheat oven to 300. Place 6-8 oven safe ceramic cups or mugs in a large roasting pan. Set aside.

Bring milk to a gentle simmer in a medium sized pot. Meanwhile, whisk together the eggs, egg yolks and vanilla. Once milk is hot, whisk in the honey and nutmeg. Slowly begin whisking the egg mixture into the simmering milk. Remove from heat.

Strain mixture through a fine mesh strainer into a medium sized mixing bowl. You may need to scrape the strainer with a spoon to help liquid pass through.

Divide the strained custard mixture into ceramic cups. Pour enough boiling water into the roasting pan to reach halfway up the sides of cups.

Carefully transfer pan to oven. Bake for 35-40 minutes until custard is set.

Allow cups to sit in the water bath until cool enough to handle. Chill completely before serving.

Sprinkle each custard with additional nutmeg, cinnamon or cardamom.

Goat Curry

Back in the Spring, I had a very nice conversation with Walter from Imladris Farm on the subject of goats. I recalled my dealings with goats in the past, one in particular who always got his head stuck in the fence, and I seemed to constantly be prying him loose. Walter smiled and nodded knowingly.

Thing is, goats are great for many things. Yes, they can get themselves into dilemmas easily, but they work wonders clearing land for pasture, and certain breeds produce some of the creamiest milk around. They are also good for eating. Not being picky eaters themselves, goats are able to turn a diet of pasture, twigs and forage into very palatable meat.

Walter recently brought his harvest to market where I was waiting with open arms.

After marinating the pieces of meat in lime and spices, they were ready for a slow simmer in coconut milk and curry. This was a memorable dish. Slow food in its prime.

Goat Curry:

*1 pound goat stew meat

*1 lime

*3-4 tsp Indian curry powder

*black pepper

*2 Tbsp butter

*1 large sweet onion, sliced

*3 garlic cloves, minced

*3 celery stalks, chopped

*3 medium gold potatoes, cut into chunks

*13.5 oz coconut milk (or one can)

*13.5 oz water or stock

*sea salt

*1 large crown locally grown broccoli, chopped

*cilantro for garnish (if you still have it in your garden)

Rinse and dry goat meat. Place in a medium bowl. Squeeze juice from half of the lime over meat. Add 1 tsp curry powder, some sea salt and pepper, and gently toss with your hands. Cover and refrigerate for 2-6 hours (or overnight).

Place a heavy pot over medium heat. Sear goat meat until well browned. Add the butter, onion, potatoes and celery. Stir. Then add the garlic and remaining curry powder. Allow to cook for about five minutes stirring often before pouring in the coconut milk and water. Stir. Season with sea salt and pepper. Bring liquid to a simmer. Reduce heat, cover and simmer on low for 2-3 hours. Add the broccoli and remaining lime juice, plus the zest from one half a lime about 10 minutes before serving. Adjust seasonings to taste, adding more curry if necessary. Top with fresh garden cilantro.

Serve over well soaked and cooked brown rice.