Community Connections | Sequatchie Cove Farm

I’m back from the market today and I have a nice glorious feeling in my bones — I feel a little TIRED. I walked up with a basket of bagels at five til four with the intent of plopping them down on the William’s Island table and rushing off the see what delicacies Alexzanna Farm had when suddenly we were swarmed by people wanting to buy arugula, spring mix, garlic scapes, eggs, kale, and patty pan squash that was all scattered with marigold flowers (I don’t think they had them posted for sale but next week if they’re still there try to snag/buy a handful to throw in your salad- they also make a really beautiful dye if you have time). And everyone was SO enthusiastic and fully appreciated the beauty of the new produce boxes and the lushness of the arugula.

And we stayed that busy for the next hour and a half. Smiling, selling, and chatting it up about the best way to cook things and whether you can eat the Asian green mix raw (you can and it is my new favorite salad (and I put it on all my sandwiches — even the fried egg one I had for breakfast) can be hard work — and very rewarding.

When I finally escaped the Island’s booth I had a chance to walk around and mingle. Of course Suzanna from Alexzanna Farm had totally sold out of everything (she is like the ‘specialty foods’ section of the market- she has the peas and asparagus and nettles (all of which I missed out on — I was hoping for one last nettle batch before the season was over). I stopped and talked to Eddie from Sale Creek Honey about bees mating and what an impact that long rain spell we had had on them (it is nice to learn something totally new — I would write about it here but I KNOW I don’t have room so you’ll have to stop and ask him yourself and then you will feel so connected with the bees you will HAVE to have a jar of honey and a rich smelling candle).

Then I moved on to the Clover Wreath booth where Breann was talking about something to do with the nastiness in the corporate food world (as a mother of young children she is VERY passionate about what is in food and knowledgeable about all of the ‘scary’ stuff that is out in the rest of the ‘food’ world). I would have stopped and talked but I was so distracted by her baby goose wandering around eating nappa from Signal Mountain Farm and weeding the fig tree from Sequatchie Cove, the bunch of sweet tiny beets and a cookbook she was selling called From Asparagus to Zucchini. I got a copy today and haven’t had time yet to look at it all the way through but I peaked in. It is written by farmers, CSA members, and chefs and is all about local seasonal food. I think that is the PERFECT set-up for a cookbook for lots of reasons. Farmers and CSA members always end up with really creative ideas for things because by the end of the season you HAVE to start getting a little wild. You lose your fear of… “what if this doesn’t turn out right?”… because there are pigs to feed it to and what is one or two lost collards in a sea of many? And the book also has some nice information about local food and economy.

That reminds me of a little rant I would like to step into about how IMPORTANT this market is to Chattanooga. It is nice to walk around and talk to people and realize that everyone is buying this food because it is fresh and it tastes good and it makes your insides laugh with joy. But I have really been thinking about this whole idea of community since I was out at William’s Island the other day for their farm day. Chad led a nice discussion on Community and what it really means. And this is IT. When you buy a bunch of kale you are making yourself healthy and happy but you are also creating a wonderful strong community. Your money is going directly to the very person who has been caring for that kale since it was a wee kale seed and going straight back into the soil that you stand on. That is a nice feeling all in itself. Nevermind what your taste buds will do when you get it home and wilt it with some garlic and toss it in a squeeze of lemon juice. When I eat I always like to think of the connections I have with the food. It is becoming very normal for me to think of not just the animal the meat I am eating came from or whether the produce it organic, but WHO raised this cow, and where did they raise it? When I eat a salad I think of who grew the lettuce, and who picked it and sold it to me… There is something very simple about the joy that farmers put into their food that I personally think you can actually TASTE it. I know for a FACT that if I try to cook in my home when I am angry or upset it won’t turn out the same as it does when I am focused on the preparation of the food itself. Especially with sensitive things like fermentation and baking…. I don’t want to sound too ‘far-out’ and it is hard to explain these things without doing so but I also think that this lack of connection to the very most basic things we surround ourselves with everyday is a sickness in itself.

Enough of that… I then moved on to Tom from Signal Mountain Farm and got a whole bunch of fennel, and some radishes. And around to Sequatchie Cove for some green onions and then back to the Island where Ashley’s pesto and my bagels were being sampled out together.

I liked today’s market because the variety of summer is creeping in. I am writing this with a zinnia stuck behind my ear and three more in a vase on the kitchen table. The Island had the first whispers of summer — basil and patty pan squash — tucked in amongst the usual spring greens…

As to what I’ve been cooking… We had hamburgers the other night (sometimes I get this wild craving for a big fat juicy hamburger) with meat from Sequatchie Cove Farm. On the bun I spread some arugula pesto, next came the burger, then a few Asian greens, then some pickled green tomatoes from last summer, a few slices of Sequatchie Cove bacon and on the top bun a dabble of Lusty Monk mustard from Asheville (Ashley at Williams Island makes some amazing mustard and hopefully I can convince her to sell some at the market… it is very easy to make and I also make it myself but it is fun to just buy a jar…). We also had a potato salad (the potatoes were from Greenlife from a farmer I had not met — but we all have to make some sacrifices — at least I know who Greenlife is…). I have never used mayonnaise in potato salad — I just boil the potatoes, slice them when done but still hot, and toss them in mustard. While I let them cool I sautéed some garlic scapes and chopped up some green onions. I threw them and some chopped dill in with the potatoes, drizzled on a bit of olive of and sprinkled some salt and there we were. While I boiled the potatoes I made a slaw of nappa cabbage, thinly sliced kohlrabi and teeny beets, and some chopped garlic, a drizzle of honey, and some salt and white wine vinegar.

For breakfast the next day I had some scrambled Island eggs and a piece of Niedlov’s sourdough with arugula pesto and some of those Asian greens…

We’ve also had pilaf (brown rice and green lentils) served with sautéed shiitake (Sequatchie Cove), radishes, kale, and leeks.

And I made some pasta the night before (alas I forgot to bring my pasta maker (I was away from my kitchen) and am not longer as young and patient as I used to be to roll out my own dough (or maybe I’m simply spoiled by the machine)) with a white sauce and shiitake and leaf beets from Williams Island. (these have been called many things in the past but I think leaf beets will do just fine). They are really good cooked like you would spinach… The white sauce was really a béchamel. I like to make one that goes like this — sauté garlic, minced onions, and thyme in a sinful amount of butter, add some cream or milk (enough to coat your pasta), warm it through and them dump in a handful of freshly grated parmesan (I have no idea why anyone would ever NOT grate it themselves but if you don’t and would like to-first make sure you have a really fine sharp grater — there is a very nifty one called a Microplane which is based off of a carpenter’s rasp and is wonderful for many things (nutmeg, zesting lemons…)) and let that bubble until the cheese is all melted in. The cheese acts as a thickener and since I didn’t have any this time I used a roux of equal parts butter and flour. That is a béchamel. I think about a cup of hot milk and a tablespoon each of butter and flour (melt the butter and cook the flour til it is slightly brown and smells delicious and THEN throw it in the milk) is about the proper proportions… With the pasta we had a nice big green salad and a crunchy oven-warmed-up baguette from Greenlife (I like to alternate Niedlov’s and Greenlife baguettes — just to keep things lively)

My pea, kohlrabi, fennel, nappa, bok choy, radish kimchee is coming along swimmingly (which means that it smells and tastes like it is going to be the best one yet).

BUT… it seems that I have written on for too long. I was planning on telling you about what I was going to do with the fennel (roast it probably with the wee little beets I got- or maybe slice some of it thin with kohlrabi and cabbage and make a slaw (my favorite in-between spring and summer dish- in case you haven’t noticed), how I was going to use up the rest of my greens (put them in EVERYTHING until everyone complains (and then ignore them) …or invite myself to about a million pot lucks (I kind of went overboard in the green department last week- but I am very determined to use every last one)… but I will stop now and let it be that.

I really like hearing back from people — especially at the market where we can talk about whatever ideas pop up in your kitchen. Ashley from the Island and I are planning on having special treats from now on at their table and I would love to talk to people there about what they’ve been up to — despite the billions of ideas I have about cooking I really love other people’s too… (like when Erin told me today that she saw a recipe for an apple and fennel tart — but of course.)

Yep. Till next week, good cookin, eatin, and make sure you invite some people who REALLY like greens over for dinner…

Filed under: Local Food Letter on June 5th, 2009 |