Lamb Meatball Stew with Russian Kale (GAPs)

Let me first give a shout out to all of you folks on the GAPs diet. A friend of mine and her family have been going strong for about 2 months, and have experienced health benefits yes, but not prior to tremendous lifestyle changes. This isn't the kind of diet you can pick up and decide to do on a whim. It requires deep conviction, commitment, and resolve to spend double (if not more) of your time in the kitchen.
Homemade bone broths and house made fermented foods are the foundation to most dishes, which, as most of you already know, does not happen on the fly. Zero funny business is tolerated. However, much of the GAPs diet principals are already staples here at our place. Bone broth is constantly simmering on the back burner, and grain laden dishes aren't generally center stage.
So, this flavorful recipe is for all of you rockin' it out GAPs style (and everyone else too). You should be commended for all your hard work!

Lamb Meatball Stew with Russian Kale:
*1 pound ground grass-fed lamb
*1 medium onion, chopped
*1/4 cup Italian parsley, chopped
*1 1/2 teaspoons ground cumin
*sea salt and pepper
*2 tablespoons olive oil
*2 carrots, chopped
*4 garlic cloves, minced
*2 cups loosely packed mushrooms of your choice, quartered
*2 tablespoons organic tomato paste
*1 cup dry red wine
*4 1/2 cups homemade chicken broth
*1 red chili pepper, minced
*2 bay leaves
*3 large Russian Kale leaves, stems removed, chopped

Prepare the meatballs: Place ground lamb in a medium mixing bowl. Mince 3 tablespoons of the chopped onion. Add to bowl with the parsley and cumin. Season with sea salt and black pepper. Gently mix into lamb with fork or clean hands. Roll 1 tablespoon lamb mixture into balls between palms. Transfer to a clean plate.
Place a heavy pot or dutch oven over medium heat. Add oil. Once heated, place 1/3 of prepared meatballs in pan. Sear each side until golden, about 4 minutes each side (if you are on beginning stage of GAPs, make sure not to deeply brown). Remove from pot with a slotted spoon, and transfer to another plate. Continue working in batches browning meatballs until all are browned.

Add remaining onion, carrots, and mushrooms to pot with lamb juices. Allow to cook until tender, stirring occasionally. Add tomato paste and garlic. Cook for a few minutes, stirring often. Add red wine. Allow to cook down and reduce slightly, about 5 minutes. Add chicken stock, chili, and bay leaves. Bring to a simmer before adding meatballs. Reduce heat to low. Cover and simmer until meatballs are cooked through, about 15 minutes. Uncover and remove from heat. Stir in chopped kale. Allow hot liquid to wilt kale before dividing and serving.

Enjoy!

Northeast Kingdom

A trip to Northern Vermont for a visit with family included plenty of memorable tastes: In order from top:

~Chocolates from Laughing Moon Chocolates in Stowe, handcrafted by my college roomie Anna. The picture is blurry due to overwhelming excitement. Almond and fleur de sel topped coconut truffles, peppermint patty truffles (my fave), caramel-peanut butter dark chocolate truffles, and house made s'mores.

~Geese flying over Wolcott pond.

~Chasing Rhode Island Reds.

~Piping hot homemade line-caught bluefish dip with capers and herbs, alongside a perfectly executed sourdough loaf, provided by my brother-in-law's bro, Matty. Wish I could have this everyday.

Not pictured: A lovely trip to Rock Art brewery's tasting taproom, where heady brews and local maple syrup were gathered and brought home. Countless garden inspired meals eaten outdoors overlooking the lake, the browning goldenrod and stray monarchs who missed the train to Mexico.

Alas, it is near time to come to grips with summer's fleeting company. I cannot think of a better place to do so.

Perhaps the World Ends Here

This poem was introduced to me a while back by my childhood friend Anna. It has remained a favorite since:

Perhaps the World Ends Here

BY JOY HARJO

The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.

The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.

We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.

It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.

At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.

Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.

This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.

Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.

We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.

At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.

Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.

Feast

A very fine crab roast provided by my brother-in-law, Chris (he has good connections). Just when you think late-summer couldn't get any sweeter.

The Parable of the Ruby-Throated

Although we have mined too deep,

 cast our nets too often,

 hunted too many,

 drilled,

 paved,

 displaced

 and made extinct;

 nature continues

 to demonstrate

 its unyielding

 generosity.

Lunch Hour

Out of the office until further notice. 

Letters

Inspired by recent letters from family and friends describing this season's gardening affairs, I thought it fitting to share some of the highlights:

~Dilly bean love, sent to me by my dear friend Suzy in Washington State (the same Suzy to influence the previous sesame kale post). The red pepper hearts are just precious.

~From my brother's family garden in Colorado. His letter reads: "Thought you would be proud of today's haul. The tomatoes are like candy, my new favorite snack and the kids eat cucumbers for snack every day with ranch. We have had a great year. Peas are done and second crop is poking up. Edamame is about ready, lettuce was completely out of control, we gave away 20+ shopping bags of it, beets look good, carrots are thin we lost about half but they are big and good and the onions are amazing. Our corn will be ready in a week or two and the grapes look rad. I am expanding the garden for next fall to include a potato patch and two 40ft rows of corn plus berries!"

~A thrilling report from my lovely friend Dana here in the Blue Ridge mountains of North Carolina: "I am on this simple salad kick- had it for dinner last night and just now for lunch: fresh cut tomato, fresh basil (used as a green vegetable), fresh cut cucumber, fancy salt of some sort, olive oil drizzled over the whole thing and then the whole thing tossed with chunks of goat chevre.

This morning I planted beets, lettuce, spinach, chives and cilantro for fall eating. I am getting the biggest kick out of eating fresh from my own garden. My celery is thriving from all the rain, and I have carrots coming up. As soon as they come at the nursery, I am going to plant fall yellow onion sets. I am pumped to get on making some garden fresh stock this winter. Maybe I can get a deer shank bone or 2 from my neighbor to drive it home. It will be like the rug that really ties the room together... Anyways, holler back. Let me know if you are grooving out to any food that I need to know about. Also, look for me and paw paws in about a month."

~Mushroom news from my foraging brother-in-law Chris, in Pennsylvania, who clearly has some sort of supernatural brothership with wild mushrooms. He brought home a stash just about every day last week while I was visiting. He made an unbelievable wild mushroom gravy to go with our meatloaf one evening. I could have drank the stuff. Today's finds include: chanterelles, cinnabar reds, chicken mushrooms and indigo milky. Heaven on earth.



















~A note from my friend Kevin:

Wish my great-uncle Ross MacDonald could see this two-gallon bag of Kentucky Wonder pole beans picked today, the first I've ever had any real luck growing here.
He was always the master gardener back in Montezuma Iowa, and in the 50's-60's I fondly recall sneaking with my brothers down to the cool, dark cellar below the kitchen where the rows of mysterious jars, the boxes of apples and potatoes and the coal bin were another world to suburban kids, and welcoming, too.
-K