Wednesday, April 28, 2010
In the spirit of local food, this is the first of a new monthly recipe post featuring something in season and available at our Pacific Northwest farmer's markets.
This month several farmers at Northwest farmer’s markets are selling those knobby, lumpy tubers commonly called Jerusalem artichokes or sunchokes. Did you assume they are related to artichokes?
Side by side, what do you think?
My brother John grows these in his Willamette Valley garden, but doesn’t harvest the root. But since they are so odd-looking and endearingly homely, I had to figure out a good way to use them besides as just a potato substitute. Plus they are good for you!
Last year I noticed a recipe for them in one of my favorite cookbooks (by one of my favorite cookbook authors, notice my copy is a little dog-eared from use): Local Flavors by Deborah Madison.
With the combination of sunchokes, globe artichokes (just coming into local grocery stores in the last couple weeks from California), shallots, and lentils, this braised dish makes a tasty and savory supper tossed with buckwheat soba noodles.
Try making this when you have a leisurely time frame, which for me is usually on the weekend. After dismantling a couple big artichokes to get down to the heart and stem, chopping, sautéeing, and simmering, a few hours passed before dinner was ready. I guess this qualifies as a Slow Food dish, but relax and enjoy the process!
Here’s the recipe, which I’ve adapted from Deborah Madison’s Local Flavors.
Artichokes and Sunchokes Braised with Lentils
½ cup dried French LePuy lentils or black Beluga lentils (hard to find but worth it – in Seattle get them in bulk at PFI), sorted and rinsed
2 large globe artichokes
Fresh-squeezed lemon juice from 1 lemon
6 to 8 sunchokes, scrubbed
4 medium shallots, peeled and sliced 1/3-inch thick
1-2 tablespoons olive oil
1-2 minced garlic cloves
1 teaspoon dried marjoram
Optional 1-2 tablespoons butter
1. Cover the lentils with 2.5 cups water in a medium sauce pan, add ½ t. salt and simmer until tender but not mushy. Drain and reserve the cooking liquid.
2. After pulling off all the leaves and cutting off the fuzz to get to the artichoke hearts, dice the hearts and peeled stems into little pieces about ¼ inch.
As you go, toss the pieces into a bowl of water with the lemon juice.
Dice the sunchokes into slightly larger pieces.
3. Heat a large sauté pan, and then add the olive oil, followed by the chopped artichokes, sunchokes, and shallots. Sauté for about 5 minutes, then season with ½ t. salt and fresh ground black pepper, add ¾ cup of the reserved lentil cooking liquid. Cover and simmer for about 20 minutes or until the veggies are tender. Keep moist with more lentil broth if needed.
4. Add the lentils, marjoram, and more broth if needed to keep a bit of a sauce quality. Simmer for about more 5 minutes while cooking the pasta (next step).
5. Bring a pot of water to a boil and cook the soba noodles for 3 to 5 minutes, checking to make sure they are al dente and not mushy. Drain and set aside for a couple minutes. (Note, I’ve tried the 100 percent buckwheat, but they’re just not as easy to work with as most brands that are a mix of wheat and buckwheat.)
6. Right before serving, stir in butter if used (I never do), and serve tossed with freshly cooked soba noodles or pasta of your choice. Top with parsley (I used chives snipped from my yard because I didn’t have parsley) and freshly grated parmesan.
I like this with a fresh greens salad dressed with a lemon vinaigrette. The lemon also brightens and balances the earthiness of the sunchokes and lentils, so you might even serve with lemon wedges to taste. I'd pair it with a dry wine white like a sauvignon blanc or pinto gris if you want to imbibe.
I got my shallots from Anselmo's at the Ballard Farmer's Market. They specialize in wonderful alliums (garlics, leeks, onions, shallots). I get sunchokes from Stony Plain Farm, which sets up at numerous farmer's markets around the Puget Sound region.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Urban Portland gets all the fawning media attention, but if you want an authentic Oregon weekend for less $$ than downtown, head east to McMenamins Edgefield in Troutdale on the western edge of the Columbia Gorge.
Sometimes when you’re not paying attention, the unexciting small town where you grew up can evolve into a truly interesting place.
Consider Troutdale, Oregon.
When I was in elementary school, the school bus passed by a forlorn collection of institutional brick buildings near “downtown” Troutdale. It housed a nursing home and, before that, the Poor Farm. The place gave us kids the creeps, and I vowed never to end up there. In fact, the Edgefield was built to house the indigent and poor of Multnomah County back in 1911.
In the early 1990s when the Edgefield was threatened with demolition, the visionary McMenamin brothers saw its potential as a fun and lively destination. They reclaimed the facility and renovated it in a quirky, artsy, funky, comfy style. Similar to historic Timberline Lodge on Mt. Hood, many local artists were recruited to paint and decorate in unique flourishes.
Today the Edgefield features overnight lodging, a winery, distillery, brew pub, cinema, pool hall, spa, soaking pool, concert venue, nice restaurant, tea house bar, golf course, artist glass and pottery studio, herb garden, and more. Besides guests like me who stop by for a meal or an overnight getaway, lots of weddings and events and festivals take place there. It’s always a party!
So after all those years since grade school, I have ended up at the Edgefield–more than once in fact.
On a recent visit, I check in shortly after 3 p.m. and discover I’ve lucked out with an room upstairs in the southwest corner of the main building. Although many lower- to mid-priced rooms share communal bathrooms, my spacious room has its own bathroom (sans shower).
My tentative plan is to get settled, then head into downtown Portland and meet a friend for the evening.
I take a short stroll over to check out Ruby’s Spa, passing the cute little wood and glass tea house bar.
“Do you have an opening for a facial or massage this afternoon?” I ask the two attractive young women behind the counter.
“We do!” Lucky me, it’s a weekday and not too busy.
I indulge myself with a Rejuvenating Facial. Under a soothing mist of steam, my friendly aesthetician Cynthia slathers on my face and decolletage an exfoliating mask, smooth gels, and cool lotions. While she pampers my skin with all-natural Eminence Organics products, I get whiffs of citrus, sweet floral plumeria, and lavender.
Afterwards, I ease into the large outdoor soaking pool next to the spa building and relax even more. Right now I just don’t feel the need to hop in my car and drive 15 miles to a busy, crowded city. The snow-covered Cascade foothills across the Columbia River look just fine from the warm pool.
Then I lounge on the balcony outside my room, overlooking a grove of trees.
By 7:30 I am getting hungry. First I pop my head into the Power Station Pub behind the main inn. It’s a bit too crowded and noisy for me after my spa splurge. Instead I grab a table in the warm and cozy, wood-paneled Black Rabbit Bar.
With a focus on seasonal, fresh food and herbs from local onsite gardens, meals at the Black Rabbit are generally excellent. Tonight is no exception. I get a generous green salad dressed lightly with a tart-sweet balsamic vinaigrette, followed by a spring asparagus risotto topped with a bright green crown of delicate watercress. A glass of Edgefield’s own Willamette Valley Pinot Gris is a perfect pairing with the green-centric meal.
There’s live music in the winery, but since I’ll be up early tomorrow morning (spring skiing) I wander back up to my room. Within 30 minutes of reading in the comfy bed, I drift off to sleep. Early-to-bed, light sleepers take note: bring earplugs–the rooms aren’t that soundproof and the sound of the hallway door opening and closing woke me up several times.
I’m up and out early. Another great thing about the Edgefield is its proximity to dramatic scenic landscapes in the Columbia River Gorge National Scenic Area, which begins just a few miles down the road beyond Troutdale’s old main street.
When You Go
Rooms range from hostel-style at under $50/night to suites with private baths at $150/night. I paid $80/night for my large room. My facial was $95 for 60 minutes. Dinner with wine was under $25 in the Black Rabbit Bar. The Edgefield is right off Halsey Street just a mile or so east of Wood Village and west of downtown Troutdale. It’s easy to reach off of Interstate 84.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Hey Northwest skiers and riders, what are you doing today? There’s tons of fresh snow in the Cascades. Lift tickets are a mere $25/day at Ski Bowl.
What are you waiting for? Go on and get up there.
Let’s face it—it hasn’t been the best ski season here in the Northwest. Whether climate change in general or simply El Nino is to blame, we’ve endured some marginal, icy days on the slopes.
But true to form with El Nino years, late season storms have blown in, dumping several feet of fluffy stuff in the Cascades. The result: Great skiing without the crowds.
Ski Bowl isn’t flashy. But the Upper Bowl has some great terrain (steeps, glades, chutes, tree skiing) worth a trip any time of the year. Plus when it’s clear, you can’t beat the view of Mt. Hood not much more than a (long) snowball’s throw away.
Call it a scrappy little resort, but Ski Bowl has the most expert runs in Oregon. I learned to ski at Mt. Hood Meadows, but I really became a skier at Multorpor-Ski Bowl. Local Northwest ski areas like Ski Bowl, Hoodoo, and Alpental breed great skiers at a fraction of the cost of high-end resorts like Whistler and Sun Valley.
When we arrive today, it’s 28 degrees and snowing like crazy (and has been all night). We head straight up to the Upper Bowl to catch whatever snow is left untracked.
It doesn’t matter that the slopes are fairly cut up by the time we arrive. We’re not disappointed. With all this fresh, cold new snow (over a foot), we slice ‘n dice and float down the slopes like a dream.
James charges off through the trees like a madman always on the verge of wiping out, but he beats us to the bottom most of the time. Sporting a polyester leisure suit jacket and disco-era polyester shirt, he sets the fashion tone and seems to stay drier than the rest of us in Gore-Tex and rain gear.
For a couple hours in the morning, we have run after great run across the bowl.
Lift lines? Nada.
Okay, so this is Mt. Hood. We are getting a tad wet by late morning. “I’m ready for a break,” I say to the guys.
We ski down to the historic Warming Hut that lies between the Upper and Lower Bowls. When I was a kid, this charming little hut was neglected and used for storage. Fortunately the owners restored it in 2005 as a perfect spot to grab a bite or beer and warm up by the rustic stone fireplace.
(Foodies take note: The sausages served here hot dog-style are excellent and locally made.)
By early afternoon it warms up and the snow is more Mt. Hood mashed potatoes than powder. But that’s okay. In the Northwest we ski it all. You think good skiers are born on always-perfect snow?
Matt and Richard slither through the crud effortlessly as if the conditions haven’t changed. Me, not so much. I’m getting tired and call it a day around 1:30.
But with cheap tickets and a not-very-long drive from Portland, I more than got my money’s worth.
Go on now! Get going!
When You Go
Check Ski Bowl’s website for deals. On Friday, April 2, we skied for free by donating several cans of food for a food drive.