Fleur-de-Selfie

Road to Fall

There’s a reason why millennials are taking selfies and those of a certain age are not.

The sun was warming my back with clear blue skies overhead, the oranges and golds of fall around us. My hands were grubbing through the cool, moist soil, as my eyes darted down, searching for knobby jewels.  I was in an old pair of sweatpants, knees grinding into the ground, elbows down there too, which meant my butt was at the highest elevation, certainly a sight no one would want to see.

I laughed to myself. “Now I know what it feels like to be a groundhog.”   Don’t picture this.

Ah, the bittersweet days following the first hard frost.  The basil plants that flavored so many meals this summer, blackened.  The screaming yellow mums soften into a crown of browned butter.  The Canada geese honking as they ride the currents into winter.  But never mind, when fall temperatures dip, they also sweeten the tubers of Jerusalem artichokes.

I’ve written a lot about Jerusalem artichokes (aka sunchokes in supermarkets), botanically known as Helianthus tuberosus, a North American native sunflower.  The golden flowers are on the small side, about the size of a daisy, but they grow on towering stalks, 7 or 8 feet tall, blooming in August and September. Right now, my grove of Jerusalem artichokes looks pretty dreary—brown, hollow stalks that snap easily as I pull them to unearth their purple-and-white tubers.

Bucket of Jerusalem Artichokes

Truth be known, I much prefer the Dutch name for the plant, aardpeer, which means “earth pear” and its tubers certainly are crisp pears of the earth. But don’t make the mistake of biting into them raw—the tubers “cause a filthy, loathsome, stinking wind within the body,” said the Englishman John Goodyer in 1617.  The flatulence is caused by their high concentration of inulin, according to Sally Fallon’s cookbook “Nourishing Traditions.”

Fallon suggests peeling the tubers and plunging them into boiling filtered water. Cook for about 15 minutes, adding a squeeze of fresh lemon juice to the batch in the last five minutes. Drain, then slice and sauté in olive oil.

I’ve sautéed JAs, and I’ve pickled them.  This year I plan to try Clotilde Dusoulier’s recipe for Jerusalem Artichoke Soup, substituting turkey bacon for the lardon. (Clotilde is the author of  “Tasting Paris” and writes a blog, Chocolate and Zucchini.)

2 ½ lbs. Jerusalem artichokes

1 medium potato

½ tsp. baking soda

3½ ounces bacon, cut into matchsticks

1 clove garlic, chopped

4 cups vegetable or chicken stock

Freshly ground black pepper

Small bunch of fresh chives, snipped, for garnish

Peel the Jerusalem artichokes and place in a bowl of cold water to prevent oxidation.  Peel potato.  Rinse both in two changes of water, cut into chunks and place in medium saucepan. Cover with cold water, add baking soda and bring to a simmer over medium-high heat. As soon as the water simmers, remove from heat and reserve in cooking water.

While the vegetables are heating up, place a soup pot over medium heat, add bacon and cook until browned. A minute before bacon is entirely browned, add garlic and cook for a minute until softened, stirring frequently.

Drain vegetables and add to the soup pot. Pour in hot stock, stir, and bring to a simmer. Cover and cook for 15-18 minutes, until the vegetables are cooked enough that a knife and be easily inserted, but not so much that they fall apart.

Purée soup with an immersion blender (or pour into blender).  Divide among 4 to 6 soup bowls and sprinkle with black pepper and chives, and serve.

Bon appetit.  Smakelijk.  Laurie Lynch

Tune In … Maybe: We just completed our third year with the MG-Limerock Court community garden.  Jan and I asked our two stalwarts, Judith and Janet, what they’d like to try next year.

“Potatoes.”

I remembered hearing a segment of Mike McGrath’s “You Bet Your Garden” on WPSU radio about growing potatoes in something called a Lehigh compost bin.  But, I didn’t remember the particulars.  So, earlier this week I emailed YBYG to ask for instructions. I got an immediate response, saying that Mike would like to have me on the show for a more detailed answer. Within an hour or so, I was on the phone with Mike asking me questions about my first car, the weather, and who knows what else to make sound adjustments to my voice.

Then, I was being recorded!

Pardon the Mike-speak, but if you cats and kittens would like to listen to horticultural hijinks with Laurie from State College (who did a fair amount of stumbling over her words) and learn about growing potatoes in a compost bin from Mike McGrath, tune into You Bet Your Garden, WLVT, PBS 39, Saturday Nov. 2 at 10 a.m. (In State College, I’m guessing the segment will run on WPSU Sunday Nov. 3 at 11 a.m.)

“Laurie’s” mug

It’s the Little Things:  With weekly physical therapy, medical bills, and no bike riding, my visits to Café Lemont have gone from almost daily (pre-November 2018 ankle surgery) to maybe monthly (post-June and -September surgeries).  Yesterday, the stars aligned and my mom and I stopped in for a special treat.

Seth remembered. He brought my mom a Hazelnut Latte topped with a creamy fern-like design and a spoon (because “It’s always too hot to sip.”)  For me, a Chai Latte in “my” mug.  The blue with gold floral swirl mugs are my favorites.  When Marina came for a visit, she also fell in love with them.  So, I contacted the potter in San Francisco and she shipped Marina a set for her new home. It takes a special barista to know the history and find the clean mug when the right person walks in the door.

Fleur-de-Binge

Thank goodness (and Benjamin Franklin) for public lending libraries.  I have been on a book binge.

The end of summer-early fall repeatedly took me to Denmark and France, as well as crisscrossing the U.S. It seems I read a book, enjoy it, and the authors’ notes would list books they’ve written or read, and off I go. Or, fate keeps circling around.

In mid-August, I was in search of a happiness fix and read Helen Russell’s The Atlas of Happiness. Then I traveled to Denmark via her earlier book, The Year of Living Danishly.  I went political and breezed through Peter Buttigieg’s  Shortest Way Home.  Finished with that and a friend lent me a copy of Nickel Boys, promising that the novel by Colson Whitehead would bring me down from my happiness spree, but necessary, nevertheless. Next was the true adventure memoir  Find a Way.  It takes place in the waters between Florida and Cuba with Diana Nyad, a childhood idol, who continues to amaze me in my mid-60s.

It was the cover of Paris by the Book—a French bookstore—that drew me to Liam Callanan’s novel, which, in turn, led me to the children’s book The Red Balloon (I still am looking for the movie, which came first).  Paris by the Book also helped me find Rosecrans Baldwin’s memoir, Paris I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down, and Kate Betts’ memoir My Paris Dream.  Whew, done with that whirlwind, I logged into the Schlow Centre Region Library website, scanned the new book section, and I snatched up Hungry with my greedy, computer-request keyboard strokes.  The full title: Hungry—Eating, Road-Tripping and Risking It All with the Greatest Chef in the World. 

In Hungry, author Jeff Gordinier pulled me back to Denmark. It brought me even further back to memories of my chef-phew Wille talking about Chef René Redzepi whose Copenhagen restaurant Noma has been named Best Restaurant in the World four times in the last 10 years, and this year is No. 2, but most likely trying harder.

IF you can get a table at Noma, a 20-course meal for one is several hundred dollars (wine pairings are a few more hundred dollars). There, diners sample the likes of plankton mousse, bear steak, birch water, sea snail broth, kelp butter, apple-pine juice, fermented blueberries, and pickled flowers.

Noma, Redzepi, and his kitchen crew are all about foraging, fermentation, fandom and friggin’ food Instagrams.  Hungry details the quest for excellence and the pitfalls of the restaurant business as Redzepi takes Noma on the road to Australia, Japan, and Mexico, and then rebuilds a new Noma, returning to Copenhagen with three seasonal themes: game, ocean, and plants. Eating or cooking a la Noma is not in my future, although I respect the philosophy behind the extreme local flavors and artistic presentation. The recipe in the book that really made me hungry was one that Redzepi’s father, an Albanian Muslim who migrated to Denmark, ate almost every day of life and has never been served at Noma.  Redzepi’s wife Nadine makes it for her chef-husband at home—true comfort food. I plan to try it during the brisk autumn evenings of Central PA.

Home-Sweet-Home Beans

Soak beans overnight. Heat in chicken broth on low for several hours (4 times as much broth as beans).  Add a few peeled cloves of garlic and tomatoes.  The secret part, about 20 minutes before the beans are finished, drop in three bags of chamomile tea.  Steep and remove before the teabags break apart.  Season beans with salt, ladle into bowls, and crown with herbs and a “lizard’s tail” of red chili oil.

Written on Slate: “… The best moments have happened when something in the present connects with stories from the past. …When past and present merge, something new happens.”  René Redzepi’s Journal Entry

Photograph Explained:  The Dianthus tucked into a little alcove at our front door started blooming in the spring, pushed out flowers throughout the summer, and is one of the last flowers still blooming in October. And I love its gray foliage.

New Fruit:  Richard was shopping at Wegman’s and brought home a bag of grapes that were new to us: Moon Drops. They’re purple-black rods, about 2 inches long. Seedless and so sweet!