skip to main |
skip to sidebar
I am mildly outraged. This afternoon I was watching Martha Stewart, who has had several farmers and culinary artisans on her program in the past year touting the local food movement. Today Martha's guest was Liz Thorpe of Murray's Cheese in New York City. Ms. Thorpe has recently written a book called The Cheese Chronicles which discusses cheeses from all over America. I plan on ordering the book immediately to see what it says about our fair state. As Ms. Thorpe mentioned that wonderful and unique cheeses are now produced in all fifty states Martha Stewart recoiled and said: "EVEN IN FLORIDA????"
No, she did not just say that, I thought to myself. How dare Martha Stewart?! Why on earth would she say something like that? What did her reaction imply? Why didn't she say "Even in South Dakota???" What does Martha think we are down here? A bunch of Kraft Singles eating culinary heathens? Come on Martha. Get with it. Why wouldn't cheese be made in Florida? Of course artisan cheese is made in Florida and while Martha Stewart may be shocked to hear this, I think South Florida in particular has one of the most diverse, exciting and thriving local food communities in the country. Locavores down here, as I'm learning, have a wider variety of edible resources and actually have more options than their counterparts in temperate climates. And pfft, we get more fresh mangoes and mahi-mahi than we even know what to do with and yes, Martha we do have local cheese.
Winter Park Dairy in Winter Park produces an artisan bleu cheese, which is available for order. I know I'll be ordering some immediately. You can see it in the photograph above, which I borrowed from their thorough and detailed website. You can also order freshly made, local, artisan goat cheese from Redland Mediterranean Organics. I've had it and I know how fantastic it is. They make several varieties of cheese.Those are but two examples of Florida cheeses.
Martha Stewart, stop privileging the temperate climate and dissing Florida. The tropics are where it's at.
I really like Callaloo. It might be the name - it sounds a bit silly and a bit like a howl. The first time I ever had it, I was in Jamaica. In Jamaica, Callaloo is practically the national dish, right after Jerk and the leafy green is extremely popular all over the Caribbean where it is cooked in a stew of the same name. Most people who eat Callaloo enjoy it in stew form or mixed into coconut rice. Both recipes are delicious. Until two years ago when I joined my CSA, I had never seen fresh Callaloo outside of Jamaica. Here in Florida we have a robust and thriving population of people from all of what we call "The Islands." These people do a good job of maintaining their rich and diverse cultures here in South Florida and our grocery stores do a fair job at stocking products from the Bahamas, Jamaica and other islands. I enjoy the Jamaican section of Publix where one can find all sorts of interesting, imported products. They sell Callaloo in cans. Canned Callaloo is as disgusting as canned spinach. I wouldn't eat it if you paid me. I have never understood why, if we have such a big population of people from the Island nations living in our area, we can't sell fresh Callaloo in the grocery stores. What's even more ridiculous is that Callaloo is a hearty crop and grows very well here. It's nutritious, keeps well and tastes good, so why is it so hard to find?
As I anxiously await the return of my CSA box in less than a month, one of the things I most look forward to is Callaloo. I like it better than collards, turnip greens, mustard greens and kale. It cooks faster and has a better flavor than most other greens I've tried. It's only a little bitter. I would describe it as a cross between spinach and collard greens. I prefer it sauteed in olive oil, fresh garlic and crushed red pepper flakes. I either enjoy it plain or I stir it into rice cooked in coconut milk.
Last week I finally got my Callaloo fix from the Bee Heaven Farm booth at the Edible Garden Festival. I can't tell you how excited I was. Since I hadn't had it in almost two years, I opted for the simple sautee. It was instant gratification.
First I pulled off all the leaves (you can eat the stems, but I don't like them as much). Then rinse them very well in a tub of water. I rinse them a few times because I find a lot of bugs and dirt in fresh greens. Then you just heat up a swirl of olive oil and throw the wet leaves in. Stir them and add some chunks of fresh garlic, sea salt and pepper to taste and some hot peppers. I have dried, but a little fresh scotch bonnet would be really good if you can manage the heat. Stiry fry until the leaves wilt and then add in about a 1/2 cup (or a little more) of water. Cook the leaves in the water for about ten minutes (stirring) or until the water cooks away. I find ten minutes is the best amount of time because the leaves get tender but not overcooked and they still retain their emerald sheen. A lot of people cook Callaloo much, much longer, but I don't like to eat food the color of Army pants. When it's done, check for seasonings and eat it up. I have to warn you though. Callaloo suffers from major shrinkage, so a gigantic bundle of raw greens will only make about one or two servings once it's cooked.
I think we should start a petition to make Publix carry fresh Callaloo. I also think the plant would make a good addition to home gardens, though I searched and searched and found it almost impossible to find Callaloo seeds for sale. Maybe Farmer Margie can tell us where she gets her seeds and give us some advice on growing it in our yards.
Sea Salt has become this year's bacon. It's in everything now, from caramels to Campbell's soup. People are crazy about it and there are several varieties from several different seas, all with different properties, colors (there's even pink salt) and minerals which alter the salt's flavor. Some people believe that sea salt is a much healthier alternative to table salt, while others just like the taste and crunchy texture of sea salt. One of the best sea salts in the world comes from France and is called "Fleur de Sel" which means "Flower of Salt." I love that name. This is because I just love anything that sounds french and involves flowers. Fleur de Sel is expensive though. I brought some back from France and I've been conserving it for the past three years trying to make it last. Then I had an idea. I should make my own. Last summer when I read the book Plenty, I was fascinated, when at the end, the authors harvested their own sea salt. All they did was gather some seawater and boil it down until nothing but salt remained. I could do that! How hadn't I thought of that before? Surely it couldn't be that difficult and living a mile from the beach, I have access to as much seawater as I want. I began to have visions of salt harvesting. I planned to call it "Florida Sel."
Get it? How can you not love that name? Come on! Admit how clever that is. I had to harvest my own sea salt.
The first step to harvesting your own sea salt is to go collect some seawater. This proved very easy for me. I went to the beach with a pitcher with a tight fitting lid. All you have to do is take the pitcher, wade into the water about thigh deep and scoop up some water. Ignore the stares of your fellow beach goers who think you're a crazy person. Pretend not to hear the child nearby asking his mother what that crazy lady is doing leaving the beach with a pitcher of seawater that she just took a picture of. Instead, take a moment to admire South Florida's beautiful beaches and thank the Universe for the generous resource that is our ocean.
The best way to transport a pitcher of seawater in a car is to rest the pitcher inside of a gigantic stock pot. I had imagined all sorts of disasters that involved soaking the floor of my car, but nothing transpired. The pot caught all of the spill-over. Just make sure you don't drive like a maniac. When transporting seawater in a pitcher inside of a stockpot it is best to drive as if you are ninety. On the way you should congratulate yourself heartily at how clever you are for thinking up the name "Florida Sel" and you should begin planning on giving big, tastefully packaged jars of your own, homemade sea salt to everyone you know for the holidays.
Before I made it home a friend called me and asked what I was doing. I said that I was making my own sea salt, to which my friend replied in horror:
"DO YOU KNOW WHAT'S IN OUR SEAWATER???"
She then proceeded to list terrible things like diseases, contaminants, tar and poop. If you have a friend like this, at this stage in the salt making processes, it is best to ignore her. After all, the water looks clear. But in all seriousness, if you're going to harvest your own sea salt you probably shouldn't do as I did and naively go to a public beach in the "Yachting Capital of the World." You should always make sure that the seawater you collect is clean. I decided to flagrantly ignore this precaution because DUH! Florida Sel, people. I did it for the name.
But concerned friends aside, the next step in making your own sea salt is to strain it and boil it. Read on to see how I made my own "Florida Sel"...
You have to make sure that your seawater is free of sand, sticks, sea creatures, krill or whatever is in seawater. I poured it from the pitcher I collected it in through a sieve lined with about four layers of cheesecloth. I have one of those sieves that hooks onto the edge of a pot or a bowl, so this made it easier. Make sure you don't skip this step because my cheesecloth caught some unidentifiable black specks. You don't want black specks in your salt. Once you've done this step, set the big pot of sea water on the stove, turn on the stove and wait for it to boil. You should also rinse and save the cheesecloth because it can't possibly get very dirty only having some seawater poured through it once.
After about a half an hour, go check on the sea water which has been boiling exuberantly. Observe now that the sea water in the pot has not so much boiled away, but has instead just moved out of the pot and onto your ceiling and is now dripping on your kitchen floor. The sea water is also covering your microwave, entire stove top and your apartment now resembles a sauna. A salty sauna. It is now time to take protective measures because you remember the corrosive properties of salt water. Fashion a suit of armor for your microwave door with sheets of aluminum foil, Secure them with scotch tape because that's all you have, though the steam from the boiling pot will quickly cause these to wilt. Replace scotch tape every few minutes in a last ditch effort to save the finish of your microwave door. Consider for the first time that harvesting your own sea salt might not be as quaint, charming and earth-goddess of an activity as the books made it sound.
After boiling for a little over an hour, your pot of sea water will suddenly explode and by explode I mean, literally. Explode. All over your kitchen. It will explode with such force that your cat will flee beneath your bed, her tail puffed in terror so that it resembles a squirrel's. You will have hot, salty water all over your entire, very small kitchen. It will not be pretty. Your ears will ring from the sound of the explosion. Carefully turn off the stove, avoiding the pot. Note that when you slide the pot off the burner, it will explode again. If you get the brilliant idea to pour the remaining, clearly volatile water into a bowl and put it in the microwave, it will explode in the microwave too, adding to the things in your kitchen that you will have to scrub. At this point, it is best to just give up, leave the water in the pot and go watch Access Hollywood.
Finally, once you've cleaned your kitchen, pour the remaining cloudy, explosive water into a glass bowl and let it sit beside your kitchen sink for a good two weeks until it finally evaporates, leaving a fine, glittering film of what has to be salt (or sewage crystals?). Glance at it with disdain each day as you wash dishes and finally, when it looks dry, use a spoon to scrape it out of the bowl and into a suitable container. For a gallon of seawater, a suitable sized container for holding your homemade, self-harvested sea salt would be a thimble. I only exaggerate slightly, folks. I measured it and I only got a tablespoon of salt from the gallon of water,
which really doesn't seem all that efficient or cost effective at all. Or practical. So now I have this tablespoon of real Florida sea salt and I'm scared to even eat it because of the sewage, e coli, cruise ship fuel, industrial waste and all that mercury that somehow gets into fish. Also, I still haven't gotten all the salt crud off my stove top. Maybe I just need to move to the Puget Sound. Nah, I'd miss the mangoes.
I am mildly outraged. This afternoon I was watching Martha Stewart, who has had several farmers and culinary artisans on her program in the past year touting the local food movement. Today Martha's guest was Liz Thorpe of Murray's Cheese in New York City. Ms. Thorpe has recently written a book called The Cheese Chronicles which discusses cheeses from all over America. I plan on ordering the book immediately to see what it says about our fair state. As Ms. Thorpe mentioned that wonderful and unique cheeses are now produced in all fifty states Martha Stewart recoiled and said: "EVEN IN FLORIDA????"
