At the Table: Farm market fairy tale, or, A day of adages
May 15—'We're two peas in a pod," my daughter Cat said, linking arms with me as we walked the farmers market together. The slanting light from the morning sun illuminated the crates of colorful spring produce. "Oh, I know; the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," I giggled. And she was not the only apple of my eye that day, as I spied my husband Eric in front of a booth up ahead.
"Don't put all your eggs in one basket" I cried out. Eric turned and winked, "I never count my chickens before they hatch either." Cool as a cucumber, he kissed me on the cheek when we caught up to him. "Are you trying to butter me up?" I asked, linking my other arm with his. By this time, Cat was moving slow as molasses as she surveyed the bewildering array of choices. "Holy cow!" she said, "This would be so much easier if we lived by bread alone!"
"But you can't," we sing-songed in unison. That did remind me, I needed bread. We sidled up to 9 Bean Rows. It was tempting to think about living by bread alone given all the choices! I asked for a fennel sea salt loaf and a sourdough, then pointed toward a multi-grain. Cat leaned in, whispering "don't bite off more than you can chew, Mom." She was right, so I paid, but not before getting my just desserts. A "baker's dozen of your cookies, please," I asked, thinking about my son-in-law, Danny, who would be finishing his bike ride by the time we arrived home.
The market in early spring feels, in a nutshell, "like the first day in school," says Alan Jones of Greenrock Farms. Everyone is busy visiting with one another; chewing the fat, asking about the winter and if they are growing anything new this year. Questions about the timing of the harvests provide food for thought, but the proof will be in the pudding come late summer and fall.
For now, you gratefully accept the delightful spring offerings: mushrooms, ramps, asparagus, lettuce, and radishes. How are the root vegetables? They are as sweet as tupelo honey when they survive storage. Magenta pink rhubarb stalks are lined up like soldiers on the tables. And the April showers do bring May flowers, flowers that never smelled as sweet after a winter of our (pandemic) discontent.
At home, I put on music as we were unpacking, belting out, "You say 'potato' and I say 'potato', you say 'tomato' and I say 'tomato' ... " I really can't sing so this was not exactly music to our ears. With a "let's call the whole thing off," Cat changed the tune. She gave Danny a wink, and I melted as I saw how they go together like peanut butter and jelly, peas and carrots, bread and butter ...
When all was put away, Danny asked, "Tea for two?" and butler style, presented our cups. "A spoonful of sugar?" "Yes, please." We settled into our chairs, books in our laps, and sighed, "Ah, this is living high off the hog!"
Which made me wonder aloud, "Who remembered to bring home the bacon?" and saw Eric's look of chagrin. "He's in a pickle," I thought, when quick as a flash, he went to the fridge, pulled out the bacon, and hamming it up, said "let's not jump out of the frying pan and into the fire today, OK?"
"Don't be such a turkey, Mom," said Cat, "Eric's always peachy keen." "Okay," I chuckled, "no sour grapes." I knew better than to bite the hand that (helps) feed me. When teatime was over, we started preparing our supper.
There were four of us in our small kitchen, and in our haste an egg dropped to the floor. "Oops, sorry, butterfingers!" Danny asked if maybe there were too many cooks in the kitchen; don't they spoil the broth? "Heck no," I said, as I love cooking with people. There was a fear of walking on eggshells, but I quickly cleaned it up with a cheery, "no use crying over spilt milk!"
"Although," I paused for dramatic effect, "if you can't stand the heat ...." Eric cut me off with a smile, "Take her with a grain of salt."
He knew I was only stirring the pot, hoping all would stay. We were about to show them how to pan-fry some seriously delicious whitefish from Ed and Cindy John of Treaty Fisheries. I firmly believe if you give a man a fish, he'll eat for a day but if you teach him to (cook) fish, he'll eat (well) the rest of his life.
Cat and Danny wanted to make the side dish for our meal, having some pie-in-the-sky notions. They settled on an old family favorite and showed their chops preparing asparagus lasagna. It is the essence of springtime, made with lemon and goat cheese, and topped with whipped cream, the icing on the cake.
Speaking of which, my son Ian and his girlfriend Lydia arrived, surprising us with a gorgeous rhubarb confection, and proclaimed, "let them eat cake!" Not a half-baked idea, even though we had a lot on our plates. "It's just a piece of cake," Ian said, giving me a hug and a slice. I guess you can have your cake and eat it too, as my day was complete.
Life is indeed a bowl of cherries when the farmers' market opens, and the family shares a meal together.
Asparagus Lasagna with Goat Cheese
Serves 4 — 6 (can be easily doubled)
2 lbs. asparagus, trimmed
2 T. olive oil
* 3 7-inch-by-6-inch no-boil lasagna sheets
2 T. unsalted butter
2 T. all purpose flour
3/4 C. chicken or vegetable broth
1/4 C. water
4 oz. plain goat cheese, at room temperature
1 t. grated lemon zest
1 C. fresh grated Parmesan cheese
2/3 C. heavy cream
Salt to taste
Butter an 8-inch square pan. Follow package directions if lasagna should be soaked before using.
Preheat oven to 500 degrees. Trim the tips of the asparagus and reserve them. Place the remaining stalks on a baking sheet, drizzle with oil, and roast 5 — 10 minutes until crisp but tender. Sprinkle with a little salt and let cool. Cut the roasted stalks into 1/2 inch lengths and reserve.
Reduce oven temperature to 400 degrees. Melt butter in a medium saucepan, add flour and stir over medium low heat 3 minutes. Whisk in broth and water, turn up heat to medium and whisk until thickened, about 6 minutes. Add softened goat cheese and lemon zest, whisking until smooth. Turn off heat.
To assemble: drain pasta sheets if soaking first. Place a sheet of pasta on the bottom of the pan, cover with half the sauce, top with half the asparagus, then 1/3 cup Parmesan, and repeat, ending with a pasta sheet on top. On this top layer, arrange the asparagus tips over the pasta. Whip the cream with a pinch of salt until it holds soft peaks, then spoon it over the asparagus. Sprinkle the remaining 1/3 cup Parmesan over the cream.
Bake for 20 — 30 minutes, until top is lightly golden and bubbly. Let rest 10 minutes before serving.
* No boil lasagna sheets come in different sizes, adjust pan size accordingly.
— Rose Hollander, adapted from Gourmet
Pan-Fried Fish with Bacon
A super simple preparation:
1 slice thick cut bacon or 1 oz. pancetta per serving, cubed
4 — 6 oz. whitefish or other local fish fillet per person, rinsed and patted dry
2 T. flour, pinch salt, grind of black pepper, 1 t. paprika per fillet
In a skillet that can hold the fillets, turn heat to medium high. Add bacon or pancetta, lower heat and cook until crisp but not dark. With a slotted spoon, remove meat to a paper towel-lined plate. In the meanwhile, place flour and seasonings (you can be creative here with whatever you like) in a shallow pan or plate. Place fillets on top and flip to coat on both sides with seasonings.
Remove some of the fat from the pan until you have a nice thin layer. Turn heat to medium-low. Add fish, skin side up, and sauté about 4 minutes, then flip and cook on the skin side until skin is crispy and fillet is cooked (you may want to put a lid on the pan if you have thicker fillets to get the centers cooked.)
Squeeze lemon juice over top, then sprinkle with the reserved bacon bits. Serve with an extra wedge of lemon on the side.
— Rose Hollander
Rhubarb Almond Cake
Serves 8
1 C. unsalted butter, at room temp.
3/4 C. + 3 T. sugar plus more for the pan
1 lb. trimmed fresh rhubarb stalks
1 1/4 C. all-purpose flour
* 3/4 C. blanched almonds
1 t. baking powder
3/4 t. salt
1/2 t. vanilla
2 large eggs
1/4 C. plain Greek yogurt or sour cream
One 11-inch-by-8-inch tart pan or 9-inch diameter tart pan, preferably with a removable bottom.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter the tart pan, and sprinkle with sugar to cover, tapping out the excess. Set aside.
Slice rhubarb in half lengthwise and set aside 8 pieces for the top of the cake. Chop the remaining rhubarb into 1/2 inch pieces.
Pulse flour, almonds, baking powder, and salt in a food processor until almonds are ground finely.
In another bowl, beat together the butter and 3/4 cup sugar until fluffy, at high speed,about 3 minutes. Add the eggs, one at a time, then the vanilla. Beat until the mixture is pale yellow and fluffy. Reduce speed and add the flour mixture gradually, scraping down the sides, then add the yogurt or sour cream and beat until just combined. Fold in the rhubarb pieces.
Place batter in the pan and tap pan to smooth batter. Arrange the reserved rhubarb pieces on the top, pressing in just a bit, and sprinkle with 3 tablespoons of sugar.
Place pan on a baking sheet, and into the oven. Bake until cake is golden and rhubarb is beginning to brown, about 70 minutes. Test for doneness, then remove when tester comes out clean. Let cool on a wire rack before removing from pan. Nice with softly whipped cream or ice cream on the side.
— Adapted from Bon Appetit
It's really easy to blanch almonds at home. Take raw almonds with skins and place the amount you need in a saucepan. Cover with water and bring to a boil. Boil 1-2 minutes, then test an almond to see if the skin slips off easily (if not, boil another minute.) Drain and cool just until you can handle them; the skins will simply slide off with your fingers.
