Posts Tagged ‘Local’

Wood Lake Nature Center (finally!)

Tuesday, May 31st, 2011

two small turtles on a log

Tom and I spent Memorial Day visiting Wood Lake Nature Center in Richfield (a first ring suburb of Minneapolis). The weather had been off-and-on all weekend and when it began to clear up on Monday we headed out, not wanting to wait too long… considering the sky might turn on us again. When we arrived our car was among few in the lot; when we left the lot was nearly full—a sign that others had also decided it was safe out, finally.

I’ve been wanting to visit Wood Lake ever since I met Karen Shragg, a naturalist/activist and Wood Lake’s manager, a couple of years ago. And, as with many trails in and around the Twin Cities, visiting the area left me and Tom with that why-haven’t-we-been-here-before? feeling. With three miles of trails, the center is a great place to walk and most of its trails are wheelchair accessible. Because of the way the trails loop in and out of Wood Lake’s wetlands, woods, and meadows it’s easy to take in a variety of habitats in a short walk and hard to miss the animal life. We saw five turtles, a muskrat, and one Baltimore oriole. Butterflies, ants, bees, dragonflies, turtles, and other birds also greeted us along the path. Missing from my photos are the birds: red-winged blackbirds, geese, and others whose names I’m not sure of were all around. If you’re into trail running, light hiking, or birding—this is a fantastic spot. For those reading locally, you’ll find the preserve just off Lyndale Avenue at Lakeshore Drive, a few blocks to the south of 60th and highway 62. Don’t forget your binoculars!

green flowers with an ant on them and a second photo of a brownish white mushroom in the woods

yellow flowers

turtles in a wetland area

Early Spring Minnesota Mushrooms

Friday, May 6th, 2011

a brown wild mushroom in early spring

Hoping to catch the earliest of the season’s morels, Tom and I headed south last weekend in search of the Minnesota State Mushroom. As with any mushroom trip, the central goal — the one that we try to convince ourselves of over and over, as we continue to tote an empty basket — was to have a great walk in the woods. As you can see from these images, we didn’t find any morels. But we had our eyes open for whatever the forest had to share and enjoyed being outside in Minnesota spring, such as it is.

In the first picture below, you’ll see how I originally found one mushroom (uncovered, at right) completely buried in autumn leaves. This was the last fungus we spotted and the most morel-like. Comparing pictures is never a recommended way to identify a mushroom — especially if you plan to eat it — but this one looks a lot like Gyromitra fastigiata or Gyromitra brunnea. While we couldn’t be certain about much of what we saw, Tom was able to identify a few of our finds using our new copy of Mushrooms Demystified, which we brought along but left in the car due to its heft.

After 2+ hours of walking, Tom and I shared a picnic and considered whether to continue looking or head home. We decided on the latter but couldn’t shake the suspicion that actual morels were actively popping up along all those unexplored trails. Hopefully we’ll have a chance to head out again this weekend after stopping by Opening Day at Midtown Farmers Market. You can be sure we’ll keep you posted if we find anything of note or at the very least, something of visual interest on the forest floor.

a brown wild mushroom in early spring

shelf mushrooms and lichen

Scarlet Cup Fungus (sarcoscypha coccinea)

fungus growing where branches once were

lichen and mushrooms in spring

possibly turkey tail mushrooms?

mushrooms on a log

shelf mushrooms and mossshelf mushrooms

From the Winter Larder

Tuesday, February 22nd, 2011

rabbit stew in a yellow Le Creuset French oven

There are few things more satisfying on a cold winter’s evening than sitting down to a meal brought about by your own craft and ingenuity. When a morning spent tracking rabbits across the snowed-in woodlands yields a young hare to serve as the centerpiece to a meal, garnished by shallots from the root cellar, carefully laid aside in summer’s waning, and sour cornichons from the crock, with fresh-baked bread, sliced, toasted and topped with leeks from that same cellar, bacon curing since the fall’s slaughter and cream milked out in the barn at the crack of dawn, this is the stuff of foodie dreams, culinary transcendence.

Returning to reality, though, I would most likely have missed the rabbit (and not for lack of firing, many, many times), my leeks and shallots would be dried up — along with the cow — the cornichons would be used up or spoiled, and poor little Tom Junior would have died of cholera. I have no illusions about my ability to survive in more rustic conditions. Luckily, rather than being dependent on my instincts and wits for survival, I can avail myself of the conveniences of the modern city. Instead of hours spent trying to outsmart small furry animals, a leisurely bike ride to Clancey’s is all I need to obtain a rabbit, conveniently skinned, eviscerated and frozen — as well as some awesomely gelatinous beef stock. And while our urban living situation has forced Martha and me into quarters too small to house a root cellar with sand-filled barrels of leeks and shallots, the co-op keeps a good supply these and other allia going pretty much year-round. As much as I like to romanticize the food and eating styles of the past, I’m grateful for the modern food system. (Thanks Monsanto!)

But even if modern life doesn’t demand a strictly local and seasonal diet, we shouldn’t overlook recipes developed with a place and time in mind before such considerations were optional. There is something perfect about a steaming pot of heavy stew on a winter’s night when the snow is falling in fat flakes and the fact that I can buy asparagus in February isn’t going to change that.

The dishes that follow both come from Madeleine Kamman’s When French Women Cook, specifically the chapter devoted to Marie-Charlotte. Raised in Poitou, France and later located in Paris around the turn of the last century, for Marie-Charlotte seasonal and local were realities rather than trends. These two recipes are satisfying ways to use up the remnants of the winter larder, but are equally satisfying when the only foresight required is a trip to the grocery store in advance of a big snowstorm.

Lapin aux Echalotes at aux Cornichons

I have only prepared and/or eaten rabbit a few times in my  life, and this recipe produced the best tasting one yet. I thought the use of pickles to the stew odd but their sourness combined in a familiar and delicious way with the sweetness of long-roasted shallots. For having such a short ingredient list, this produces a very flavorful stew.

On cutting up rabbits: The recipe as printed simply called for a young rabbit, but the first time it is referred to the instructions they are called “rabbit pieces”. If your rabbit came whole like mine did, here’s how I cut mine up: remove the hind legs and the forelegs. Slice off the flaps of belly meat from either side. Cut tight along the backbone to remove the loins from both sides of the rabbit. There may be a couple of tenderloins floating in the cavity — cut them out. Reserve the ribcage and backbone for stock (I just throw it in with my chicken carcasses). To promote even cooking, tie the tapered end of the loins back over the loin to produce an even cylinder. Roll the belly meat around a piece of tenderloin each and tie into an even bundle.

rabbit pieces and a boning knife on a butcher block with peeled shallots

  • 4 T butter
  • 2 dozen large shallots, peeled
  • 1 young rabbit (I didn’t ask mine’s age)
  • Salt and pepper
  • 1–1 ½ cups brown veal stock (I used the excellent beef stock from Clancey’s)
  • 6 small sour pickles, sliced.

Heat the oven to 325ºF. Heat the butter in a large, straight-sided pan. Sauté the shallots until just beginning to brown. Season with salt and pepper. While you’ve got the salt and pepper handy, season the rabbit pieces and stir in with the shallots. Allow to brown a few minutes and then transfer the pan, covered, into the oven. Bake 40 minutes, basting at regular intervals with the juices that will accumulate in the pot. (I basted every ten minutes.) Raise the oven temperature to 400ºF, remove the pan and cover and stir in the pickle slices and the stock. Return to oven, uncovered, and bake an additional 20-30 minutes until the rabbit pieces are well browned on one side (do not stir after uncovering) and the sauce is reduced to a glaze.

Roties aux Blanc de Poireaux

Garlic toast topped with a mixture of leeks, bacon, cream and goat cheese — probably not something you should eat every day, but after trying it you might be tempted.

  • 3 T butter
  • 1 large leek
  • Salt and pepper
  • 3 oz bacon
  • 1 cup cream
  • 1 oz goat cheese
  • 6 slices french country bread
  • 1 clove of garlic
  • Parsley, chopped

Melt the butter in a large skillet, add the leeks and cook over low heat, covered, until the leeks are quite soft and reduced. Season with salt and pepper.

Meanwhile, chop the bacon into a rough ¼” dice and cook in a small skillet until crisp and most of the fat is rendered out. Drain the fat and reserve for another use and add the bacon to the leeks.

Add cream to bacon-leek mixture and allow to cook on medium low heat, uncovered, until cream is much reduced. Stir in goat cheese to melt. Cover and keep warm.

Toast the slices of bread and rub each with the garlic clove. Top each slice with a healthy spoonful of leek-bacon-cream-goat cheese mixture and sprinkle with parsley. Serve hot.

Minnesota Sangria

Monday, May 31st, 2010

Call me a pessimist, but in spite of all the amazing advances being made in the realm of cold weather fruits I don’t think anybody’s ever going to grow citrus in Minnesota. So what’s the hard-core locavore fundamentalist zealot to do when he finds himself in the North country and craving a glass or two of sangria, the citrus-laden wine drink of Spain? Since moving to California — or better yet, Spain — isn’t necessarily a workable option, the drink would just have to be adapted to local circumstances. Time for Minnesota sangria.

tickled pink wine labelThe inspiration for this concoction was a visit Martha and I made recently to Delano, MN and the Woodland Hill winery. Besides producing surprisingly decent traditional red and white wines, Woodland Hill also makes some worthwhile fruit wines, including, most notably for me, wines made with rhubarb. In visits to wineries in Michigan and Minnesota over the years I have imbibed all kinds of different fruit wines — most of them terrible — but this was the first time I’d ever seen rhubarb wine. Juice is extracted from the stalks by first freezing them to break up the cells, then pressing them for all they’re worth through a wine press.

At the time of our visit they were sold out of last year’s straight rhubarb vintage but had plenty of Tickled Pink, a strawberry-rhubarb blend. Strawberry and rhubarb is a classic flavor combination — and far superior to the ubiquitous kiwi-strawberry, I might add. Lest you think cloying thoughts of strawberry-rhubarb pie, crisp, or what-have-you, I should say this wine was remarkably restrained for a fruit wine; relatively dry (for a fruit wine!) and with clear strawberry and rhubarb flavor.

Clear as these flavors may have been, there’s always room for a little improvement. With copious quantities of strawberries and rhubarb from the Midtown Farmers Market, as well as a bundle of mint — the official herb of summertime — from the Saint Paul Farmers Market, I mixed up a version of this Spanish summertime staple fit for the fields of Minnesota.

Rhubarb, Strawberries & Mint in a glass jar

Minnesota Sangria

  • 1 bottle (750 ml) strawberry-rhubarb wine (we used Tickled Pink from Woodland Hill)
  • 1 ½ cups rhubarb, cut into large chunks
  • 10 medium strawberries, sliced
  • 1 generous handful mint (you can leave it on the stem)

Mix all the ingredients in a large pitcher. Chill and serve.

a closeup of a pyrex container filled with Minnesota Sangria

Midtown Farmers Market: Week 1—The Market Returns

Sunday, May 2nd, 2010

Steve West welcomes visitors with music

It’s finally here! It’s been pretty warm in Minnesota for about a month, but that only made the lack of fresh local produce seem even crueler. As of yesterday, the food drought was over with the advent of the Midtown Farmers Market. Martha and I were so excited that we arrived shortly after market open at eight and within a few minutes were enjoying our traditional farmers breakfast of tamales and coffee.

Oaxacan Tamales Oaxacan Tamales are Delicious!

It was fun to see all our friends from last summer back at the market, as well as to welcome some new faces. Particularly promising is the stall for Gardens of Eagan, which in addition to the expected herb and veggie starters already had strawberries. Apparently hoop houses and a crazy-warm April can make this happen. For those who missed the market’s opener, their chalk board promised more strawberries and lettuce next week.

a chalk board stand at Gardens of Eagan Ramps from Real Bread!

Looking back at last year, all I bought on the first day of the market (May 2, 2009) was a chicken, mutton and salsa — nothing fresh from the ground. Even though this year’s first market was a day earlier, I did a lot better for fresh produce: in addition to the aforementioned strawberries there were ramps foraged from the wilds of Wisconsion by Brett ‘Real Bread’ Laidlaw. There was also spinach available, had we been so inclined. As with last year, I couldn’t pass up a pound of that delicious ground mutton, and we also picked up a bag of spicy almonds from market fixture Barsy’s. This haul of food — already featuring fresh fruits and veggies — bodes well for the rest 0f the summer.

Strawberries, ramps, lamb, and almonds

The Midtown Farmers Market is open Saturdays from May to October from 8am to 1pm and Tuesdays from June to October from 3pm to 7pm. The market is located at the corner of Lake St and Hiawatha, across from the YWCA.