There’s a new butcher in town and boy am I happy. It seems that the neighborhood butcher has gone by the wayside and that more and more people are relying on supermarket butchers. While the guys at my local Whole Foods are very helpful and knowledgeable, there’s nothing quite like the personal rapport one develops with a local, neighborhood butcher. Like the one I am establishing with chef-butchers, and husband and wife team, Nathan McCall and Karen Yoo. I have been in several times and appreciate the hands on service they have given me. Whether it be advice on what cut to buy, or how to cook it the duo is more than accommodating. McCall and Yoo both have backgrounds as professional chefs; McCall cooked at Los Angeles restaurants Café Pinot and Sona; he also spent time in the kitchen of Spain’s Michelin three star restaurant Arzak followed up with time at Daniel Boulud’s Restaurant Daniel in New York City. Yoo, trained as a pastry chef, worked in the kitchens of Campanile, Sona and Restaurant Daniel. Given their experiences in professional kitchens they should be the go-to-butchers for both the professional chef and the home cook. Who better to buy meat and fish from than those who have the experience cooking it? It’s a great combination.

To add to the package they only source their meat, as they state on their website, ‘from traditional farms where animals are naturally and humanely raised on the best feed without the use of hormones or chemical enhancements.’ Their ‘fish is wild-caught and/or responsibly raised in the most natural environment.’ They stock CAB (Certified Angus Beef) Beef, Kurobuta (Berkshire to us) pork, lamb, locally raised poultry (from KenDor Farms in Van Nuys), eggs, house made sausages (pork-fennel and garlic-paprika), and sushi grade salmon and tuna among other seafood. Check the chalkboard specials for such items as duck, rabbit, squab and leg of lamb. They also sell a hand picked selection of gourmet oils, vinegars, salt and pepper, and other specialty cooking products. Given their propensity to be local and sustainable they could almost be a butcher my great-grandmother went to albeit without the sawdust on the floor and the banging screen door. And that is a comforting thought. I’ll be going to McCall’s often. It is so close to home. Welcome to the neighborhood Nathan and Karen!

Chef-butchers Karen Yoo and Nathan McCall

McCall’s Meat & Fish Co.
2117 Hillhurst Ave.
Los Angeles, California 90027
323-667-0674 (ph.)
323-667-0802 (fax)
www.mccallsmeatandfish.com
www.twitter.com/mcallsmandf

*The Local Report(s): are occasional blog posts on restaurants, and/or businesses that either support the idea of one-hundred miles, and ‘living life locally’; or are small, localized businesses in my neighborhood, and/or within one-hundred miles of my residence, that I prefer to support over the larger, national, corporate chains. For other The Local Report(s) please go the Archives section of this blog. Also, I’d love to hear from my readers about businesses that they support in their neighborhoods: write to me at charlesgthompson@100miles.com, or leave a comment here.

Follow The Local Report on Twitter: @TheLocalReport

Upcoming Posts: Interview with Chefs John Stewart & Duskie Estes, owners of Zazu & Bovolo restaurants in Sonoma County. Cochon 555 Napa, a write up of the amazing pork festival that I went to in Napa. Reviews: My Nepenthe: Bohemian Tales of Food, Family and Big Sur by Romney Steele, The Spirit Kitchen: Everyday Cooking with Organic Spices by Sara Engram and Katie Luber and Kimberly Toqe.

The Barcelona Cookbook: A Celebration of Food, Wine and Life. Sasa Mahr-Batuz, Andy Pforzheimer. Andrews McMeel Publishing, $29.99 (224p) ISBN 978-0740773945

A cookbook about Barcelona? With recipes of all those great things I ate when I was there this spring? When I first heard about ‘The Barcelona Cookbook’ that’s exactly what I thought. Then when I received it for review I discovered that it wasn’t that at all. Instead it’s a cookbook based on a Connecticut restaurant group: Barcelona Wine Bar and Restaurants. The concept is tapas and wine; the restaurants have been around since 1996. The book’s subtitle is: A Celebration of Food, Wine and Life. When co-owners Sasa Mahr-Batuz and Andy Pforzheimer opened their first restaurant they decided to name it after the city of Barcelona because of its vibrancy, and colorful lifestyle — its ‘cosmopolitan, pan-European’ feel. They wanted to evoke the feeling of eating in a restaurant along the Mediterranean coast. However, the dishes served in the restaurants, and the recipes used in the cookbook, are not solely Catalan or Mediterranean. Mahr-Batuz and Pforzheimer have traveled to Spain often so the dishes on the restaurant menus come from all over Spain, or are Spanish-influenced; Mahr-Batuz is originally from Argentina so there are Argentinian influenced dishes as well.

When I first read through the book I was surprised and pleased to see that Chef Pforzheimer gave credit to Chef Jeremiah Tower, and the Stars restaurant chefs, for teaching him hands on skills he would later use in a successful career as a chef and restaurant owner. Being that I also worked in and have an association with Chef Tower and Stars it was a comfort to see that. I knew right away he had a good cooking pedigree. I was also happy to see that Chef Pforzheimer’s menu choices are influenced by what is available from local farmers and farmers markets. Another area I believe in strongly: living life locally.

I have found with other restaurant cookbooks that the recipes don’t always work. It can be difficult to translate dishes made in a professional setting to the page for the home cook. Professional chefs cook differently than the home cook; they also have different equipment at their disposal. I didn’t find that to be the case in the recipes I tried from ‘The Barcelona Cookbook.’ The recipes worked just fine. I chose to try recipes that I had recently eaten in Barcelona — to see how they measured up. One of my favorite dishes on that trip was patatas bravas — olive oil fried potatoes served with a spicy mayonnaise. It’s a very simple dish and the cookbook’s recipe for ‘Catalan Potatoes Bravas’ measured up perfectly. I was momentarily transported back to my favorite tapas bar in Barcelona. Being that it is currently summer I have been overwhelmed with farmer’s market produce; needing to use up all those pesky organic tomatoes I made the ‘Barcelona Gazpacho.’ An easy recipe to follow and execute, and the added touch of a garnish of day old bread, scallions, cucumbers and green peppers made this cold soup exceptional. Since meat is almost a national pastime in Spain I decided to try a recipe for grilled steak: ‘Steak Paillard.’ The recipe includes a delicious bell pepper and tomato vinaigrette that is spooned over the grilled meat, as well as fried potatoes. Simple, basic and a perfect summer evening meal.

To me the book echoes what Andy and Sasa seemed to have set out to do in their restaurants: offer a fun, festive, colorful place to eat well-prepared food, drink great cocktails, and taste good wine. The book has a similar feel. The color photos are plentiful and well shot; a mixture of ingredients, dishes, kitchen and dining scenes from the restaurants, and photos of Spain. The two men state that the restaurants are foremost about entertaining people; sections of the book are devoted to throwing parties. There’s a whole chapter on cocktails and wine. Interspersed throughout are little histories and commentaries on Spanish food, wine, cheese, cured meats, trips to Spain, and the city of Barcelona, among others. They also include recipes for a number of stock Spanish dishes: sangria, cazuela, albondigas, zarzuela, romesco sauce, paella, gazpacho, arroz con leche and others. Well explained cooking techniques for many of the dishes are added value. Looking at the dishes, the recipes, and the ingredient lists that include such things as olive oil, garlic, tomatoes, paprika, cured meats, seafood, and saffron rice I could easily smell and taste the food, and was almost transported back to Spain.

The book covers a lot of ground, and if I was going to offer any criticism that might be it; there’s a lot contained in its 202 pages. It might also suffer from a bit of an identity crisis in that I did think it was a cookbook about food from Barcelona; and it does veer away from strictly Spanish food to include dishes from South America. Once the reader understands what the restaurants are about that is easily overlooked. And if one is looking for a serious Spanish food cookbook, this is it. It has most of what you would want and need plus more. I do wish there was a recipe for one of my favorite Spanish tapas dishes: Padrón peppers. But there is enough else to make this a worthy addition to any cook’s bookshelf.

My Status: going on vacation for a week to Guerneville-Russian River-Sonomo County.  Lunch at restaurant Bovolo in Healdsburg; dinner at Zazu Restaurant & Farm in Santa Rosa; wine tasting at Chalk Hill, Hop Kiln, and others in the Alexander Valley, Healdsburg and Sonoma County; canoeing on the Russian River, and more…

Upcoming Posts: ‘gleaning,’ or the act of gathering public produce, or leftover farmer’s market produce, and giving it to the poor, needy and hungry.  A history of the movement, and the groups that are actively involved in it. ]]> http://www.100miles.com/review-the-barcelona-cookbook/feed/ 1 http://www.100miles.com/pimientos-del-padron/ http://www.100miles.com/pimientos-del-padron/#comments Sat, 25 Jul 2009 00:07:17 +0000 Charles Thompson http://100miles.com/?p=276 Padrón Peppers, or Pimientos del Padrón

Serves

4 – 6

Preparation Time

45 minutes

Ingredients

1 lb. Padrón peppers (80-100 peppers)

3-4 cups olive oil

Salt, large grain rock, Kosher, sel de mer, etc.

Method

Clean the peppers by rinsing them lightly. Dry them completely so they won’t splatter when they hit the hot oil. Leave the stems attached.

Place the olive oil in a large skillet suitable for deep frying, like a cast iron skillet. You may also use any other type of deep fryer you have on hand. Allow the olive oil to heat on medium to high heat. It will take awhile, 10 minutes or so, to get to the right temperature. When you think the oil is close to the right temperature, place a small piece of bread in it. When the bread begins to bubble and crisp up, the oil is ready.

Place all of the peppers in the heated oil; it will take a moment or two for them to begin cooking. Stir or turn with a metal slotted spoon or sieve. Once they are bubbling and boiling watch for the skins to start puffing and wrinkling. This should only take a few minutes.

Remove the cooked peppers from the oil and place on a baking sheet lined with paper towels to drain excess oil.

Place on a serving platter, and sprinkle generously with the salt.

Read Original Post

Are they Italian or Spanish? I was *confused and still am. I first had something like pimientos del Padrón in Ravello, Italy while on a three week trip to France and Italy with my friend, Chef Jeremiah Tower. We spent the day driving along the Amalfi Coast stopping in at all the beautiful towns along the way. On our way back to our apartment further south along the Campania coast, we decided to drive over the mountains that hug the Amalfi Coast and stop in Ravello. Ravello sits high up in the mountains overlooking the Amalfi Coast. After a winding drive up the mountainside we pulled into the town square and, as always, I was hungry. We went into the first ristorante we saw, sat down at the bar and ordered drinks. I looked over the menu and noticed something that said fried green peppers. They sounded interesting so I ordered them. A few moments later they were placed on the bar before us: a plate full of freshly fried small green peppers, stems attached. They were about the size of a jalapeño but didn’t have that kind of heat. There was just a hint of heat. They were lightly salted. Perfect bar food. We gobbled them down with our drinks. And I wanted more. But we didn’t order more. I have wanted more ever since.

Flash forward to my recent trip to France and Spain with Robert. We’re sitting in Cervecería Ciudad Condal on our first night in Barcelona and I see on the table next to us a plate of fried green peppers. They looked exactly like the peppers I remember eating in Italy. I quickly scanned the menu and there they were, ‘pimientos del Padrón’ — they were a Spanish tapas dish. They were lovely, and wonderful, and delicious: fried perfectly in Spanish olive oil, dusted with large-grain salt. Grabbed by their little stems, bitten into and pulled off with your teeth, an explosion of crispy skin, salt crunch, slightly bitter pepper taste, a little fire, and olive oil. Drop the stem on your plate, grab another one, repeat. Of course they were gone too soon. I wanted more. I ALWAYS want more of delicious things. Just the kind of eater I am but we moved on to all the other amazing food we ordered. We spent two more nights in Barcelona and we had pimientos del Padrón at each of those meals.

Like I tend to do with my crazy delicious food experiences I have been dreaming about eating those peppers again since I’ve been home. I did a little Internet research and found out that they come from Padrón, a municipality in the area of northwest Spain called Galicia. They are grown and harvested from June to September, and eaten all over Spain. What I didn’t know about them is that they are also known as ‘Russian roulette peppers,’ in that one in ten can be extremely hot. As in you bite into it and immediately the heat sears your tongue and mouth, smoke comes out of your ears like in the cartoons, and you think you’ll die. When we ate them in Barcelona they were all fairly mild; neither of us came across any with super-fire. I found out that as the season progresses, the hotter they get. August and September peppers are much hotter than early season peppers. I also found out that they are difficult to find in the U.S. however, one company, La Tienda, does sell them via mail order. La Tienda is based in Virginia, and specializes in Spanish food products. Their website states that Virginia is on the same latitude as Galicia so it’s perfect for growing these peppers. They grow them from seeds that came from a pepper farmer in Padrón. I placed an order. Three weeks later one pound, or about one hundred peppers, arrived via U.P.S. in a styrofoam container with an ice pack.

When my Spanish friend, Júrgio (pronounced ’sure-show’), heard that I had pimientos del Padrón he was quite surprised. Júrgio, who is Galician and knows Padrón and the peppers well, has lived in Los Angeles for a number of years and has never seen them here. We made a dinner date for the following night to cook them. Júrgio helped me make them and I am glad he did. From watching his mother cook them as a child, he knew things about preparing them that I did not. He told me there are pepper sellers in Padrón, little old Spanish ladies, who can tell how hot the peppers are just by looking at them. When you shop for them there, they ask how much heat you want. Júrgio, his partner Kevin, Robert and I ate all one hundred of them in a matter of a few minutes. There was no Russian roulette for us however. We didn’t get any really hot ones. So I’ve still not eaten one that sends me shooting out of my chair and into the fountain in the square outside. An experience for another day. Lack of heat aside, Júrgio approved; they tasted just like they do in Spain. I was so happy to eat them again!

*Coda: I have yet to figure out how the Italian peppers we ate differ from, or are similar to, the pimientos del Padrón. If anyone knows, please let me know. Otherwise, I’ll do more research and write about what I find in a future post.

Here’s how we made them:

Print Recipe

My Status: it’s still hot in Los Angeles – upper 90s, summer is really here; enjoying all the summer produce; writing, cooking, blogging and eating!

Upcoming Posts: The Wedge Salad: a recipe, the origins of the salad and of Iceberg lettuce. Review: ‘The Barcelona Cookbook’.

From Saveur Magazine

Serves

4 – 8

Preparation Time

1 hour

Ingredients

3/4 cup Spanish olive oil

6 medium russet potatoes, peeled, quartered, and thinly sliced

6 eggs

Method

Heat oil over medium-high heat in a 10″ sauté pan. Add potatoes and onions and cook, lifting and turning, until potatoes are soft but not brown, about 20 minutes.

Beat eggs in a large bowl until pale yellow. Transfer sautéed potatoes and onions with a slotted spoon to beaten eggs. Reserve oil.

Heat 1 tablespoon reserved oil in the same pan over medium heat. Add egg and potato mixture, spreading potatoes evenly in the pan. Cook uncovered until the bottom is lightly browned, about 3 minutes.

Gently shake pan so tortilla doesn’t stick, then slide a spatula along edges and underneath tortilla. Place a large plate over pan and quickly turn plate over so tortilla falls onto plate. Add 1 teaspoon reserved oil to pan, slide tortilla back in (uncooked side down), carefully tuck in sides with a fork, and continue cooking over medium heat until eggs are just set, about 3 minutes. Cut into wedges and serve at room temperature.

Read Original Post

Tapas! Cervecerias! Tortillas! Patatas bravas! Pimientos del padrón! Montaditos! Jamón ibérico! Delicous eats of Barcelona. I feel I have slighted Spain and Barcelona in recent blog posts. They’ve all been about our incredible time in the Languedoc. Well, now it’s time to give Barcelona a bit of face time. And to tell you about some of the amazing eats we had while there.

In a previous post I talked about how I’d never really made it down to Spain during my many trips to Europe; how I didn’t really know it like I do France, Italy, and Great Britain. I have over the years heard raves about Barcelona and had always wanted to go. I’d say my expectations for the place were pretty high; we’ve all had those kinds of expectations, the ones so high that reality never quite measures up. I was afraid this might be the case but it was not. My expectations were exceeded. Barcelona is a magical place. Almost as if there’s something in the air. There is something indescribable about it. It is in part: the geography – the sea on one side, mountains rising up on the other; the architecture and culture – Gaudi, the Sagrada Familia, the Modernist movement; the warm, easy going people – helpful, friendly, outgoing; the food – vibrant, bold and direct. But there is also that something that can’t quite be put into words. So I think I’ll stop trying. But let’s do talk about the food!

I have to admit that I had always been a bit of a snob when it came to Spanish food. I’d eaten my share of tapas, and Spanish food here in the States; I’d also eaten it in Spain but it never really grabbed me the way French food did. The Spanish way of eating is so very different from the French; they eat later, often many small plates, or tapas, and often hopping from one place to the next. These concepts were opposite to my habits of sitting at table, whether at home or out, and eating several courses in a row. But I quickly embraced the Spanish way of eating on this trip. I understood it and enjoyed it for the first time.

Eating in Barcelona was easy. There are cervecerias and cafes on every corner. When we went out to eat at 9:30 or 10:00 o’clock at night most places were full, crowds spilling out onto the streets. Once we were seated we ate course after course of tapas. I was a quick convert to this way of eating. Two of my favorite things were patatas bravas and pimientos del padrón. Patatas bravas are olive oil fried potatoes served with spicy red sauce and garlic mayonnaise; now who doesn’t like garlic mayonnaise with a spicy kick to it eaten with fried potatoes? I was in love. Pimientos del padrón are green peppers fried in olive oil and sprinkled with ground rock salt. The padrón peppers are native to Galicia; they are small in size, about as big as a thumb, and only one in ten has any heat. The act of popping one in my mouth – a slight pepper kick, the crunch of the salt, the taste of olive oil – sent me deeper in love. What potatoes? All the peppers we ate were mild but apparently you can get one with some real heat and it can be quite a surprise. Like biting into a fried jalapeño pepper. A sort of pepper roulette the Spanish like to play. Then of course, there was the ham. Lots and lots of wonderful ham. And more delicious ham. Did I mention the ham?

One of our favorite meals was the lunch we ate in La Boqueria, Barcelona’s daily open air market, just off the Ramblas. I’d read in our guide book about a place in the market called Bar Pinotxo. The bar and the owner, Jaunito, are legends in Barcelona. It was among the best food experiences we had. Robert deftly scored us two seats at the small, crowded bar. People stood behind us waiting for a chance to sit. Over a glass partition in front of us was the tiny kitchen where Jaunito and his staff of four worked miracles. There was no menu; there were items in containers behind the glass partition we could look at. There were also dishes being prepared that we checked out. The young man behind the counter couldn’t have been nicer or more helpful. After we got our drinks we watched, we asked, he told us and suggested items. The food was fresh, clean and so tasty. We ate squid with white beans, grilled shrimp, oxtail in a red wine reduction sauce, garbanzo beans with Catalan sausage, and a codfish salad with peas. We watched as each dish was prepared three feet away. The flavors of Spanish food pop in one’s mouth. They’re loud but not in an obnoxius way. One tastes each ingredient separately then together. Fish, meat, olive oil, garlic, salt, spices. Textures; soft, crunchy, smooth, liquid. It’s a circus of sensual experiences. Our lunch at Pinotxo supplied it all. When I go back to Barcelona I will absolutely be stopping into La Boqueria for another lunch at Bar Pinotxo.

Now there’s a whole level of cooking going on in Spain that I have not written about. The molecular, El Bulli-influenced movement that has swept through the country, remains an institution there, and has come to the States as well. Unfortunately our time was brief, we were in Barcelona as tourists, being the first time for both of us, so we didn’t experience fully this style of cooking. We did venture into one of Ferran Adrià’s acolytes restaurants but the experience was so unpleasant that I’m not going to write about it. The restaurant and service were fine but unfortunately neither of us enjoyed our meal. I really did want to have the Adrià-molecular experience too. So next time, now that we are no longer tourists, we’ll be better equipped to jump into the molecular culinary fray. Who knows maybe we’ll even dine at El Bulli!?

A final note: at breakfast we both adopted the popular tortilla, a type of potato fritatta. A slice of that with cafe con leche, and we were ready to start the day. Here’s a recipe from Saveur Magazine.

¡Buen provecho!

Print Recipe

My Status: well, it’s post 4th of July so summer is really here; enjoying all the summer produce, the great Southern California weather, writing, cooking, blogging and eating!

Upcoming Posts: The Wedge Salad: a recipe, the origins of the salad and of Iceberg lettuce.  Review: ‘The Barcelona Cookbook’.

I hate flying. And I don’t particularly relish staying in hotel rooms. Being a tourist is not a favorite pastime either. But I still love to travel. What I really like is being in a place. Letting the effects of a place slowly seep into my awareness, slowly take over my senses. At times one must kick start that process by being a typical tourist, bus tours and all. But that’s just a primer to really starting to know a place. Travel is ultimately about discovery. Discovery of a new place, culture, language, food. There’s a mysteriousness to uncovering, and exploring a new city, a new country. I don’t know Spain the way I do France. Before this recent trip, I’d been to Madrid for a day before flying to the island of Mallorca for a week long wedding. Mallorca was total, complete heaven. I could have stayed and never left. That trip was long ago. Being back in Spain for an extended period of time allowed me to re-discover and discover more of this wonderful country. I’d definitely like to spend more time there.

After my year long stay in France when I was eighteen, I went on a three-month tour of western Europe by train. I saw almost all of the western European countries except for Spain. It was the late 70s and it was still this fairly unknown place with a recent quasi-facist past . And it was far away; stuck down by itself along with Portugal. It just didn’t quite fit into the big geographic circle I was making through France, Switzerland, Austria, Italy, Greece, Germany, Denmark, Sweden, Scotland, Ireland and England. And on return trips I never quite made it there either. I didn’t know what I was missing.

France, as stated in my last post, is still my home away from home, my self-adoptive country but I do have a new appreciation for Spain and the Spanish. Robert and I found the people to be warm, friendly and open. There was a sort of laissez-faire attitude that was very comfortable to us. Barcelona was a dream place. I had heard that it was. With Gaudi leading the Modernist movement, and building amazing buildings like the Sagrada Familia cathedral, the city couldn’t help but be dream-like. The food followed suit. Bold, direct and vibrant. I learned how to eat and order tapas (finally!). The city is dotted with cervecerias on every corner. They’re open morning, noon and night. Stop in for a cafe con leche and a montadito of egg and potato for breakfast, go back in the evening for beers, sangria and five or six tapas dishes. I’ll be writing more about our food experiences as soon as I am over my jet lag and back on track but some of the delicious things we ate included: tortilla (potato omellete), patatas bravas (fried potatoes in spicy red sauce with garlic mayonnaise), pimientos del padrón (deep fried peppers), montaditos (little sandwiches with all manner of ingredients), oxtail stew, grilled shrimp and much more (to be revealed).

One of our favorite places, a block away from our amazing hotel, was Cervesería Catalana. Always busy with people spilling out on to the street. Traditional tapas; very well prepared. Our first night, and our initiation into ordering tapas, was at Cervecería Ciudad Condal. A big, bustling place with a wait for a table. After we were seated at a corner table in the back of the restaurant, we both looked at our all Spanish menus then at each other: what now? Robert speaks Spanish fluently and I can easliy get by. It wasn’t that the menu was in Spanish; it was that we had no idea what the things listed on it were. The very nice waitress (used to clueless tourists) offered to bring us an assortment of dishes. It was perfect. Just enough, not too much. All amazingly delicious. We’d managed to successfully order and eat tapas in Spain. We walked off into the warm night, sated and happy. We were falling for Barcelona fast. By our third and final night it was full on love. I now understood why everybody raved about this city. Our final night in Spain was spent in Madrid, and it was another love fest; a magical city that felt a bit like London due to the cool, damp weather and a bit like Paris in its vast grandness. We both liked it all over again. Spain was quickly becoming a new favorite European country. One we’d both like to explore further.

¡Buen provecho!

Watch this spot for more about our travel and food adventures in Spain (and France).

My Status: Robert and I returned home on Saturday, June 6. I am recovering from jet lag, getting caught up and wishing I was still in France and Spain!

Upcoming Posts: France and Spain: more detailed blogs about food and travel adventures in France and Spain. The Wedge Salad: a recipe, the origins of the salad and of Iceberg lettuce.
]]> http://www.100miles.com/spain/feed/ 10 http://www.100miles.com/cucumbers/ http://www.100miles.com/cucumbers/#comments Thu, 14 May 2009 00:18:07 +0000 Charles Thompson http://www.100miles.com/?p=1008

There’s something about a good, fresh, ripe, right-from-the garden cucumber. Bright green, a sort of forest green, small prickly bumps like cucumber acne, firm to the touch if picked properly. When you slice into it with a sharp knife there’s a snap, and the unmistakable aroma that rises up quickly. The smell of a cucumber. I’m not sure how to describe it but it’s distinctive. To me it’s the smell of a garden. Actually the cucumber is a fairly simple fruit when it comes right down to it. One that always reminds me of summer and of my great-grandparent’s garden.

I have wanted to write about my cucumber memories for awhile now but needed to find the right cucumber. I knew those over-ripe, too big, coated-in-wax ones at Gelson’s would not be right. In fact they are all wrong. I looked at Whole Foods and nothing doing there either. I even checked several farmers’ markets and came up empty. Now I hope the lack of product at the farmers’ markets is due to the cucumbers normal May to August growing season but I doubt it — not in this day and age of hot houses, hydroponics and God knows what else. I kept my eyes open for the right cucumber. I knew it was out there somewhere.

When I was growing up we often ate the fresh fruits and vegetables that my great-grandparents grew in their garden. I realize now that I didn’t know any different. Going into the garden, pulling up a carrot, washing it off with the hose, and eating it on the spot was no big deal to my sister and I. The freshness and garden flavor we took for granted. It wasn’t until I was older that I became aware of how different a carrot bought at the local Safeway and a carrot pulled from my great-grandparent’s garden tasted. It was then that I fully appreciated their amazing garden.

Now back to my cucumber. At the family meals, usually midday on Sundays, when seven or eight of us all sat down together my great-grandmother quite often put a bowl of sliced cucumbers soaking in vinegar on the table. It always seemed to be there. We all helped ourselves. I guess it might be considered a side dish, or a condiment. What they were to me were little bites of garden freshness. Cucumbers picked that morning, sliced and put into a bowl with vinegar and salt. Simplicity at its best. A sort of faux-pickle: crunchy, greenly bitter, mouth puckering and refreshing. I loved them. And as simple as it is, the dish is a standout in my childhood food memories. I think in part because the simpleness of the dish is evocative of who my great-grandmother was; hardworking, self-sufficient and uncomplicated.

This past weekend Robert and I went to see the new farmers’ market at the Americana — a popular, outdoor shopping mall in Glendale, California. I’d heard they were starting a farmers’ market but I was also in no rush to go to one in a shopping mall. It turned out to be quite delightful. It’s called Gigi’s Farmers Market, happens every Saturday, and is easily on par with other local farmers’ markets. As we wandered through my cucumber radar was up. As we rounded a corner to the next produce stall, I saw them sitting there in a small stack. The right size, the right green, with cucumber acne. I picked one up, it smelled like a cucumber. It felt like a cucumber. It looked like I’d found my cucumber. I asked the growers where they were from: Oxnard — about fifty-nine miles away. Organic? Yes. Waxed? No. I bought six.

When I got home I made my great-grandmother’s faux pickles and Robert and I ate them with our lunch. As I peeled and cut into the first one that cucumber smell rose up to meet my nose, and memories of our long ago family meals came rushing back to me.

Herewith…

Print Recipe

My Status: International Food Blogger Conference: I leave for Seattle on Thursday, May 14 and return home on Monday, May 18. The conference is Friday, May 15 – Sunday, May 17.

Robert and I leave for Paris, the Languedoc, Barcelona and Madrid on Sunday, May 24, returning home on Saturday, June 6.

Upcoming Posts: The Wedge Salad: a recipe, the origins of the salad and of Iceberg lettuce. France and Spain: if all goes well technologically, and time allows, I’ll be posting blogs from Europe. ]]> http://www.100miles.com/cucumbers/feed/ 1