The Co-op and local job creation (and retention!)
I'm not going to go out on a limb and say that just because you join the Co-op means that we'll bring thousands of new, well-paying jobs to South Philadelphia. But it is worth noting that the Co-op would be a piece of an overall food system puzzle in which the owners of the enterprise (you) place a value on supporting the other pieces of that puzzle, which themselves create and sustain good jobs all over the region.
I bring this up because of a recent Treehugger piece which made the point about the job creation power of small, family farms. In fact, the numbers on the return on investment on many different programs that support these kinds of farms are staggering. A program meant to help tobacco farmers transition to sustainable farming of more diversified agriculture "awarded $3.6 million in three years to 367 farmers, created 4,100 new jobs, and had an economic impact of more than $733 million."
As for the Co-op, it's important to remember that while large retailers have their ups and downs (and the downs are mostly suffered by the people at the bottom of their organizational charts), a Co-op can be a more resilient business model because the member-owners come together in times of trouble to see the Co-op through until the economy picks up again. And now, while we're just starting to come out of some pretty big economic trouble, wouldn't it be good to be prepared for the next downturn?
(Join the Co-op today... we've made it easy with our new online form.)
Sarah's Garden: Happy March!
Back when I was growing up in cold, cold New England, March didn't mean much more than snow or possibly slush, if we were lucky and it warmed up to above freezing. The old saying that March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb never made any sense to me: it came in and out like a lion in my experience, and the first month that you could just about guarantee that there'd be no snow was May (I'm only slightly joking.) But here! In the glorious and warm Mid-Atlantic, March is a wonderful month. Here, March means that spring is coming. You can feel the sun getting stronger and once in a while you can even smell spring, as long as you are outside the 1/2 mile Pat's and Geno's cheesesteak smell radius.
I kid, Philadelphia. But it's true that March is a wonderful month, if only for the fact the the few months after it (April, May, June) are some of the nicest temperature-wise. The other day I went out into the garden, dormant except for that crazy ivy, to get some containers and figure out where things should go. And lo! (Sorry.) There was something still growing:
Chard! I didn't take any of my failed chard or kale out last fall since I was hoping that some of it might come back in the spring. Well, it sort of did. This little guy is very small, but he's growing. I picked one of the leaves to try and I can tell you that it was crunchy and tasted...fresh...but that's about all I can say since I had just finished eating a Cadbury Creme Egg about a second before I put the leaf into my mouth. Oops!
Unfortunately, that's really the only one that made it. You see, I planted the chard and kale seeds in a self-watering planter. Good idea, right? We've already covered that I'm bad at watering. The self-watering planter came with a plastic cover and one day I got all cocky and decided that I didn't need that ugly plastic cover. Ha! Unfortunately, I think I really did need that ugly plastic cover because after I took it off the soil was always really wet. And something appears to be eating the kale?
Oh well. I'll continue to tend to my one little chard.
Soon it will be time to plant seeds! More on that next week. For now, here are some little snowdrops brightening my walk to work in the morning:
Notice of Election for Board of Directors - March 15th Deadline
Parsnip Fritters with Indian Spices
The parsnip is underrated. I don't give it much attention, and then we're in mid-winter and I'm tired of squash and there's not a lot else going on, and then, there it is, the parsnip. It's a stand-in for potatoes. It's perfect roasted. It's fragrant and slightly peppery but still mild and almost creamy.
I really wanted to make parsnip pakoras. That was the plan. I had these parsnips, and I just thought they wanted to be fried up with some coriander and chili powder and cumin and all.
I thought I had it all together. I didn't have chickpea flour, which really is key, but I had chickpeas, and that was a start. I got my mini-chopper out and loaded it with dry chickpeas. And it laughed at me. And coughed a bit.
Plan b. Ok, not pakoras, per se, but fritters. Like a zucchini fritter but with winter veg. And I could still bust out the coriander. This is very similar to the Indian Spiced Vegetable Fritters over on Smitten Kitchen. It's not quite a pakora, but it's delightful next to your curry dish.
I started with two huge parsnips and a tiny one. I gave them a serious scrubbing with a green kitchen scrubber (one that I use only for veg) and passed them to my husband to grate.
We didn't end up using all three, but about two cups of grated parsnip.
And carrots, because they're plentiful right now.
We cut these into matchsticks for some variation in texture. We also minced a serrano chile and sliced up a small red onion.
And then the batter. So, yes, if these were real pakoras, they'd be battered in a blend of chickpea flour and rice flour with water and spices, but without chickpea flour on hand I followed the path of the zucchini fritter and broke out the eggs.
And reminded myself that just because an egg looks different, that doesn't mean it's creepy. I whisked up the eggs in a big bowl.
And added three tablespoons of flour. I used two tbsp rice flour and one all purpose. The rice flour gives pakoras a bit more crispness, which I thought wouldn't hurt here.
The eggs and flour were whisked together and then the spices went in. All the things that make you think this isn't a typical vegetable fritter. I made it easy with a half teaspoon each of cumin, cayenne, coriander, garlic powder and ginger. While I had fresh garlic and ginger on hand, I didn't want to increase the moisture in the dish, so I opted for dried. Also, fresh cilantro, about three tablespoons worth.
Then the veg got heaped on.
And then I dove in with my hands and mixed it all together. From this point on, I was worthless and sticky, but I had a kitchen partner. If you're going it alone, I'd recommend a spoon.
We coated the bottom of a skillet with oil (use safflower, vegetable, something without much flavor that can handle high heat), and brought that up to frying temperature (where a bead of water pops when it hits).
Then with my incredibly sticky hand, I grabbed bundles of the mixture and dropped them in. About a third of a cup to a half cup at a time.
After three minutes or so, we tested them with spatula, and since they were solid and unified, flipped them.
Another three minutes or so and onto a cloth to drain, sprinkled with kosher salt.
We had them with chana masala.
And they were fantastic.
This recipe is cross-posted at Saturday’s Mouse, where I’m working on making food out of food.
Ingredients
- 2 cups Grated parsnips
- 3/4 cup Carrots cut into matchsticks
- 1 Serrano chile, diced
- 1 Small red onion, sliced
- 3 Eggs
- 2 tablespoons Rice flour
- 1 tablespoon All purpose flour
- 3 tablespoons Cilantro, chopped
- 1/2 teaspoon Cayenne pepper
- 1/2 teaspoon Cumin
- 1/2 teaspoon Coriander
- 1/2 teaspoon Dried ginger
- 1/2 teaspoon Garlic powder
- Oil (high heat) as needed
- Salt to taste
Instructions
- Whisk together eggs, flour, spices and cilantro.
- Mix in vegetables.
- Coat bottom of pan with oil, heat to shimmering.
- Add handfuls (spoonfuls if you want to be neat) of vegetable and batter mixture to frying pan. About a third cup or a bit more per fritter. Don't crowd. Three at a time in my pan.
- Fry for three minutes or so, until solid and crisp on the bottom. Flip and do the other side.
- Remove to cloth to drain and sprinkle with salt. Serve hot.
Details
- Prep time: 20 mins
- Cook time: 20 mins
- Total time: 40 mins
- Yield: 9 fritters
Sarah's Garden: Houseplants
It's time for some realtalk about houseplants. I have a strange relationship with them: I've always had at least one (usually more) for the past, oh, ten years, but it hasn't always been by choice. You know, your parents come visit you at college and bring you...plants. "Oh, we were just at Ikea and these palms were on sale..." they'll say, or "These are from your grandmother's greenhouse and she grew them especially for you..." or "This old man who grows figs on some farm in the middle of nowhere New England cultivated this special black fig and here's his 20 pages of instructions for how to take care of it..." Okay so not quite, but you get the idea. And when your parents have driven 550 miles with their seats pulled all the way forward and themselves squished in to a small car just to accommodate the plants they're bringing you, you're not going to refuse them. Thus, houseplants have never seemed to me a choice but rather a fact of life.
I can't even tell you how many houseplants I've killed. Seriously, I've lost count. And we're not just talking delicate plants here: people, I've killed cacti. CACTI. You know, those things that grow in the desert? With hardly any water? Well, turns out if you forget to water anything for long enough, it will die. Luckily most cacti don't look too different whether they're dead or alive so I may be guilty of gluing a small fabric flower to a dead cactus to alleviate the pain. I don't recommend it, though, because the relief is short-lived.
In this past year I've learned that I can indeed grow things. But growing a garden (even a garden of containers) outside is entirely different from growing things inside. Because outdoor plants are super easy. Outdoor plants always get what they need - sun and water. It may be cloudy one day but they still get sun, and it may not rain for a while but it will again. You know where it doesn't rain? Inside. And somehow I just forget to water plants that are inside. It's like I see them as some sort of furniture and just completely overlook the fact that they need watering. And then a week's gone by and oh! why is that plant turning brown?
I'm trying to get better about not forgetting about my houseplants and I think it's working a bit but I've already killed one palm this year and another is getting preeeeetty close. One trick I've found is to put the plants in places that you look at often. This lovely little aloe is in the kitchen window, for instance:
The window this guy is in is conveniently next to the sink and dish drying rack (and right above where the cats are fed) so I'm sure to look at it at least once a day. Being near the sink also means it's super easy to water - just turn the faucet on to just over a drip and dribble the water in until it comes out the holes in the bottom. Fantastic! The only thing with plants in windows is that you need to remember to turn them once in a while unless you want them to grow towards the window, where the most sun is. You can see that this guy has lots of little new growth on the front left-hand side there; clearly that was the part closest to the window.
After some trial and error with houseplants (don't worry guys, it only takes, like, 10 years) you'll start to find which plants work best for you. I seem to do well with succulents like aloe because they can get very dry without dying, and they're also used to large amounts of water at once, like in a desert. Other things, like palms (cough cough) are tough because the soil needs to be kept sufficiently damp and that means watering less each time but more frequently. Let me tell you: that is not how I roll. I find it very hard to water just a little - when I water I assume I won't be watering the next day so I tend to soak the plants a little more than I should, probably. This works out great in the garden in the summer because those plants need all the water they can get. But inside, plants don't need as much water and I've always found it hard to know when I was under- or overwatering until the plant starts to actually show signs of either, when it's usually too late.
These figs that I've shown you pictures of are strange things, indeed. Allow me to tell you a story: Last winter, I had a fig. It was a special black fig and I may have referenced it above. It came with pages of directions, and to overwinter you were supposed to put it in a cool, dark place, let all the leaves fall off, and water only occasionally. This lets it do the plant equivalent of hibernating and then will begin to bud again in the spring, when you resume watering it and putting it in the sun like a regular plant. Like I said, watering is a problem of mine. And since the fig needed to be watered less than any other plant, I kind of forgot about it. But then spring came and there was a little green bud and I got excited! That is, until the bud dried up and fell off a few days later. That was the end of that fig. Then I got two new figs. The tall, skinny one is from that same fig-growing man in Massachusetts. The shorter, bushier one is from the farmer's market in Rittenhouse Square. I actually forgot about the whole hibernating for the winter thing, but the leaves started falling off both of them. I kept watering and kept them in the sun and soon new leaves started appearing! Now both figs have leaves and buds so I'm hoping I did this right. It's certainly more encouraging than the stick I was watering last year.
The next thing about houseplants that I've learned is to have a good, big watering can. I used to water my plants with whatever was handy and clean - various pitchers work well for this. But they're all too small for the amount of plants I have now so I end up making multiple trips to the faucet, which in turn makes the act of watering that much longer. I will make any excuse I can not to water (the usual being that it takes too long even though it doesn't take that long) so having a big watering can that I can fill up once and water everything with is key.
Another important thing about houseplants is that some are poisonous to humans and animals. And something that is safe for humans might be poisonous to animals and vice versa. So if you have small kids or pets that tend to eat things they shouldn't, you should make sure that all your houseplants are safe in case some do get eaten. We have two cats, one of whom, Mr. Hooper, will eat literally anything you put in front of her. When other cats sniff things to inspect them, she just eats them and then throws up later, if needed. The cat in the picture above, Walker, is very picky and will usually not eat random things. But the other night, Walker was in my room and I heard the sound of crunching on what sounded like a dry leaf...I look down and Walker is happily chewing a dead leaf from my rex begonia that is in my room for the winter. Of course I immediately freaked out and googled "are rex begonias poisonous to cats" (gotta love Google) and found, to my relief, that rex begonias are non-toxic to cats. Something that is toxic to cats is aloe, so my picture above should be used as a caution! But knowing Walker I knew that she just wanted to sniff, which is what she did. Also this particular aloe is very prickly so I don't think even Hooper, The Cat Who Eats Everything, would risk it. But just in case, it's on the kitchen windowsill where they can't get to. This is the only plant that I would risk doing that with because of the spikes and because Hooper can't jump that high; cats (and little kids) are really tricky and if they see a plant they want to eat they're going to get it one way or another.
I guess the moral of this story (post) is that if you're always killing houseplants, don't immediately assume you can't grow anything cause houseplants are really hard. And if you can grow houseplants then good for you! Could you please share some tips?
Happy Valentine's Day
I just wanted to quickly pop in and say that we had a great time on Sunday, devouring tons of sweets.
The talented Chef Chad Durkin showed us how to make whoopie pies and an adult chocolate milk. All throughout the demo, he shared great tips such as ways to "repurpose" ingredients -using beet juice to dye red velvet cake, infusing vodka with coffee beans to make fun cocktails, and creating your own vanilla extract by submerging vanilla bean pods in bourbon or rum.
Martin Brown, from Little Baby's Ice Cream, was also there serving up some delicious chipotle chocolate ice cream and vegan ice cream made from coconut milk, chocolate and peanut chews (who knew peanut chews were vegan?).
Thanks to Albert Yee who was there to capture it all for us!
Where we've been and where we're going!
Couscous with Artichokes and Dried Tomatoes
Couscous is not some mysterious grain, like quinoa, though we tend to use the two interchangably around here. Couscous is just pasta. Tiny pasta. I like to imagine someone taking a handful of spaghetti and chopping it into tiny bits, but that probably has nothing to do with how couscous is made.
There is just one trick to couscous, and it's super important. Don't cook it in water. That's boring. Sure, it's pasta, and you cook your fettuccine in water, but you also put sauce on your fettuccine.
Other than that, do what you want, it's couscous. Use the veg you have, and the herbs you have, and go to town. Get your liquid boiling, add your couscous, turn off the heat, move the laundry from the washer to the drying rack and eat dinner. Easy.
We had just made vegetable stock, so I had that handy. Veg stock is awesome for couscous.
To make six servings of couscous and veg, for dinner tonight and lunches throughout the week, start with two cups of stock.
Gather your veg.
I started with frozen artichoke hearts, chopped up.
And mystery greens. This is frozen arugula, but I had intended to find spinach or chard. The freezer is getting a little sad, and the summer's goodness is pretty much gone.
And I had soaked some dried tomatoes in hot water to plump them. They actually weren't "sundried" tomatoes, they were just "dried tomatoes" from Margerum's. They weren't quite raisin-dry, they were more moist to start with and it seemed like they had more flavor in the end. I soaked them in about a half cup of near-boiling water while I got the rest of the food together, so maybe 5 minutes. I chopped those up and added them to the stock and veg, with their soaking water, which was full of tomatoey goodness.
I added some oil and garlic and basil.
And brought it all to a boil.
Added the couscous, covered the pot and turned it off.
After about 5 minutes, I stirred it a bit and added black pepper
and Parmesan.
[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="320" caption="There's no light above my stove, so staring into a pot is just going to be dark."][/caption]
10 minutes later it's tangy with the tomatoes and the parm, and creamy, especially with the artichokes. But you can use whatever veg are crowding your fridge and freezer.
This recipe is cross-posted at Saturday’s Mouse, where I’m working on making food out of food.
Ingredients
- 1.5 cups Couscous
- 2 cups Vegetable stock
- 1/2 cup Very hot water
- 1/4 cup Sundried Tomatoes
- 1.5 cups Frozen (or other non-marinated) artichoke hearts
- 1 cup Blanched or frozen greens (spinach, chard, arugula)
- 1 tablespoon Olive oil
- 1 tablespoon Minced garlic
- 4 teaspoons Minced basil
- 1/4 cup Grated parmesan
- 1 teaspoon Black pepper
Instructions
- Soak dried tomatoes in very hot water. Set aside.
- Defrost and chop vegetables.
- Add stock (mine is unsalted), oil, artichokes and greens to a large pot. Add dried tomatoes and soaking liquid. Heat to a boil.
- Add couscous, garlic and basil. Stir. Turn off heat. Cover. Let sit 5 minutes.
- Add cheese and black pepper. Stir.
- Serve warm or cold.
Details
- Prep time: 3 mins
- Cook time: 10 mins
- Total time: 10 mins
- Yield: 6 servings
Sarah's Garden: New Growth
Apparently some groundhog saw his shadow today. I don't have too much faith in this Punxsutawney Phil creature but if winter continues like this it really wouldn't be that bad, would it? My little ivy is certainly enjoying itself. Look at the little baby leaves!
I realize that ivy grows pretty much anywhere but it's encouraging on the second day of February to see a little new growth. Yes! That's what happens soon! Even if the groundhog said otherwise. While we're on this subject, does anyone else get nervous that they'll wake up on the day after Groundhog Day and everything will be eerily the same and it'll be just like Groundhog Day the movie? Except this time it's real life and there's no Bill Murray or Andie MacDowell and you actually do have to live one day over and over? It's a legitimate fear, I think.
Ivy's pretty great, though. It's always green and grows in the shade, it can grow up things or on the ground, and if it grows someplace you don't want it, you can just gently lift its little (strong!) feet and put it where you want it to go. The only thing I do to mine is to coax it up the fence and away from the tree. So easy! For a lovely article about ivy, I suggest this.
But ivy isn't the only thing growing - this little one is getting bigger and bigger:
Feverfew! It looks like a weed because it pretty much is, but I did get some pretty white flowers out of it last fall. There used to be sunflowers in this pot and this makes me miss them. I'm definitely growing sunflowers this year because they're so HUGE. I love being dwarfed by my plants.
And soon it will be time to start planting seeds! Groundhog, even if you are right about six more weeks of winter it doesn't matter to me since I can start growing things inside my nice warm house.
