cornmeal harvest time at the park

As a shopper at many farmers' markets, I've developed a certain eye for particular foodstuffs. Grains for example. They seem to be lacking in selection at most markets, so when I find a good source I make sure to remember when and where, how much and how good. But this too has limits, since although grains store well, the storage bins tend to empty out before harvest time, leaving folks like me just DYING for a month or so before the new crop is ready. Take corn for instance. I just lurv the stuff. Corn on the cob, frozen corn, popcorn, with a special emphasis this year in cornmeal. I can't get enough apparently. With the pickings slim at the markets lately, I was very happy to find that the East Bay Regional Park District can occasionally be a source for fresh, delicious local grains.

This past weekend we went down to Ardenwood Historic Farm in Fremont to enjoy their Harvest Festival with our good friends. We had read about various activities including corn husking and doll making, cider pressing and ice cream making. Also, that grains would be milled on-site, including wheat. And corn. My heart did a little flutter: could it be? please lord let their be some for me......

Luckily, there were even some genuine old-timers around to do the grinding, using a few tractors as power for the belts involved to run the things. It was mesmerizing to stand at a safe distance and watch the spinning and listen to the spittysandygrindy noises as the flour was milled. Another team of folks took the large trays of fresh, warm flour and scooped it into cloth bags, tossing them on a nearby table for another team to sell. We checked it all out and then bought a still slighlty warm bag for the road. I did a little happy dance, and started thinking of cornbread variations and the possibilities of ingesting to much and getting corn bloat.

Come Monday, with the sourdough fed and looking like it's contemplating some sort of alien flight, it was only natural I'd add some cornflour and start with pizza dough. A touch of whole wheat made it in as well, resulting in it being a third whole grain. We went out and picked some rosemary and thyme and added this with the salt near the end of kneading. After a few hours it had poofed up nicely so I put the stone in the oven for a pre-heat.

Our cherry tomatoes out front are continuing to supply us with fruit so we picked a few cups worth and halved them for a topping. Out back the basil is still hanging on, especially the purple stuff. On Sunday, I finally turned some of our roma harvest into a sauce, so we used this as a base, pressed in basil leaves, finished with cheese and oodles of carmelized onions and we're in business. Then it hit me. All the water I use for my gardening needs at home are from Eb-Mud as we affectionately call it around here, so this pizza is really:
EBRPD Grain + EBMUD watered garden = YUM

Fine with me. I love it when two governmental agencies can get together on something for the betterment of the people. Even when they don't know it. With any luck, someone working for one of these will have some staff member who occasionally trolls about looking for who's saying what about them. On the off chance they are I like you guys. A lot. Please keep up the good work!

Ok, ass-kissing aside, I had to fold some of this dough up, especially since I spotted the calzone fiend out in my tomato patch the hour before and knew he must be on the prowl for a freebie. I tossed in some cheese at the last moment (we didn't have much left) hoping the smell would deter my supertaster quasi-vegan cousin from barging in and mooching on my dinner. Apparently it worked. There's still half in the fridge.

Wednesday found us hitting GTK for more corn meal experiments. I had plenty of buttermilk, eggs and cheese, and the jalapeños I had needed using. But who needs excuses to make cornbread? The weather has started turning crappy round these parts and I've been wanting warm things at all meals. Warm bread in particular.

So how lucky was I, when I pulled the bread from the oven and then remembered my ma saying she had some slow cooked pork roast and veggies in the fridge. I got these out and got some heat into them quick. I unmolded the muffins, having eaten one already since I accidently mangled the top. I pulled another two and a slice off the round to consume with the pork. Together, the flavors danced. The peppers were sweet with just a touch of heat. The freshness of the corn really rang. Damn. I ate until I could hardly breathe. The elder monkey was off with the grandparents and the younger was asleep. The entire scene was too much. I thought, I'm super-hella-lucky. I love my life.

The next day, I'm not sure why exactly, but I just had to make more corn bread. Well, kinda. This stuff was a sandwich loaf of sorts, with about a third of a whole grain component, most of which was corn meal. Because I failed to give my starter any notice of my intent to bake, I cheated and used a packet of commercial yeast. That's right folks. Even the Monkey Wrangler occasionally cheats and uses a form of yeast that will go from pure ingredients to baked loaf in under four hours. But, I did feel a bit silly and was thinking of my friend Chilebrown (who's bacon gift I was about to cook) and his deadly good sourdough jalapeño cheddar bread. Failing in the sourdough department, but still feeling inspired, I added some horseradish jack and a few jalapeños to the dough. The loaf came out beautiful, with all the flavor I had imagined in it coming through. I was proud, as it would allow me yet more cornmeal gluttony.

With the ingredients sliced, baked, fried and ready, it was time for some BAT sandwiches with roasted garlic rosemary potatoes. I'd like to take a moment here and thank Chilebrown for the bacon (it was the pork shoulder bacon from Gene's Market. Did that make it Chandler bacon then CB?) as it was most wonderful and satisfying. I'd also like to apologize to my friend Leena who will read this and want to kill me out of jealousy for having such fine bacon at hand. The poor thing. I guess down under you just can't get good bacon. Well, feast your eyes on this girl. I know the picture doesn't highlight the bacon well, but let me tell you: it was extra crispy.

I've toned it down on the corn madness in the last few days and have been concentrating on the cider. I mean, ciders. So far, so good. If all keeps going like it is, it will be cider not vinegar. So happy. Life is good. Busy, but good.

urban legends

I live in an urban area, and have been doing some of my own scientific study of our bay area phenomena. I'm an avid hiker, putting many miles on bay area trails, and I can say with utmost confidence that there are no Sasquatch roaming the east bay hills. I've heard there are some other large hairy beasts making their way back here and there, but not on my side of the bay. The hairy beasts of Food lore though, that's a whole 'nother story. In the past few months while researching the phenomena of the urban bacon man, I encountered not one, but two.

If you have ever cruised a food blog, looking for some supreme meat item, chances are really good you found Dr. Biggles at Meathenge. If anyone is a credible source of food info, and a verified food legend, he is. (It's really a no brainer, I mean think about it, the guy is a doctor and all, with over twenty years in practice.) I have the fortune of sharing a geographic proximity to Da Man and managed a time slot for a farmers market rendezvous. I was stoked I was going to meet Mr. Meat. Our first encounter (in the flesh, I guess) the "meat angel" introduced me to a few market regulars and told me a few stories. He told me about mornings when his family sprang from bed with glee, in anticipation of what the bacon fairy had left at the door before they awoke. Huh? I'll have to get to know him better and inquire further at a later date.

After seeing Biggles a few more times and swapping stuff, his buddy Chilebrown wrote me and offered a food swap. He was interested in some sourdough starter and offered bacon in return. I wrote him back immediately. I had onions and potatoes, many eggs around, and english muffin batter going. When we later chatted and shared info, I told the monkey that a friend was coming over to give us some bacon.

"Oh, bacon daddy. What are we giving him?"
Part of whichever starter he wants. We have two right here.
"Does he like the sourdough too?"
That's what I hear honey, and he likes bacon.
"Oh yeah, I LIKE bacon."
Well you're in luck bubba, 'cuz the bacon dude is on the way!
"The bacon dude daddy?"
Oh yeah!
"With bacon? I LIKE BACON!"

Chilebrown is an enormously generous man, who suffers from no paucity of pork. He gave us two packages, each lovingly vacuum-packed, in return for some muffins and starter. I took the opportunity to do some kitchen math with the monkey, to show her how we made out like bandits. In essence, after CB visited my home last friday, I had no doubt that I had met another from the hominid group known as "Homo urbanus," sub-species "Porcinus edibilis."

For the next five days, we reveled in hog. Good hog, done right and delivered by a bacon god.

Day 1 started off with some red-flannel hash. It's one of my favorite breakfast items at Rick and Ann's. I'm not sure what the real recipe is, but I used beets, onions, potatoes, trumpet mushrooms, garlic, and bacon. Sprinkled with green onions and served up with a quick egg and english muffin, it was most satisfying.

Day 2. When you have canadian bacon, but no pineapple, do you still call it Hawaiian pizza? We didn't. But it was still good. Roasted red pepper and eggplant spread for the sauce, three cheeses and bacon on one side. Sauce, three cheeses, trumpets, artichoke hearts and green onions on the other. Yummy on both.


Day 3. If you know my ways, you might assume that these are calzones, but really they aren't. They are cheese and meat filled english muffins. While making our family staple, I used some of the bacon gift as a filling. I was thinking it would be kinda like a sourdough english pupusa.


How about more like a griddled ham and cheese calzone? It was gooey and filled with smokey pork. Like a hot pocket, only real.




Day 4. When you've already made something with most of your bacon, and have only a tiny bit, you make biscuits and gravy. But we had no biscuits, only potatoes. Easy! Fry some onions, garlic and mushrooms with the leftover bacon, add flour, stir, add milk and cook until it thickens, then add some cheese and pour over some sliced potatoes, top with "sourdough salt" and bake for an hour.



When you serve it with fresh focaccia and a nice salad it even seems healthy. Well, almost. Except that I couldn't help thinking of it as scalloped potato biscuits and gravy.



Day 5. I woke up, dreading my first day of no bacon. While packing the bag for grandma's, I realized H forgot her "calzone" for lunch. Knowing that the quality of this food item is rapidly deteriorating, I packed it, heated it up at lunch, and split it four ways. While my folks were taking the first bite, wondering where this fantastic pork product came from, I simply smiled, and matter-of-factly said, while winking at the monkey "the BPS-man, of course!"

"The BPS man?"

"The Bacon Parcel Service Man. There isn't one here in Novato? What a shame......"

Thanks for the delivery CB, we can't wait for the next.