FOOD ON THE FOOD

LexFarm Seedlings for Sale

If you're anything like me, Memorial Day came and went, and you didn't plant any tomatoes. Then, when you finally got your act together to go buy some—like Sungolds, Cherokee Purples, and Brandywines—you realized that all the local farms already had their seedling sales weeks ago. And all the best heirloom varieties at the garden stores are probably sold out. And now the school garden—which always, ALWAYS has Sungold cherry tomatoes come hell or high water or blight—will be without them for the first time ever. All because of you.

But wait, all is not lost. If you live in the Boston area, you can still find beautiful organically grown heirloom seedlings at LexFarm, Lexington's new community farm on the site of the former Busa Farm. The lovely Farmer E, previously of Waltham Fields, still has an ample supply of gorgeous tomato plants for sale, thank goodness, including my precious Sungolds. And if those singles and six-packs should happen to run out, she has another orange variety called Sunsugar that tastes almost identical but is less prone to cracking after heavy rain. She has red cherry and grape tomatoes, green zebras, San Marzanos, and maybe a dozen other varieties. Other seedlings for sale include sweet and hot peppers, eggplant, tomatillo, cucumber, herbs, and flowers, all lush and healthy.

This weekend may be your last chance for the good stuff, people. Don't let time get away from you! Pick up some rhubarb, fresh eggs, and fat heads of lettuce while you're at it. Then pat yourself on the back because now you don't have to be fired from your volunteer job by your very vocal and unforgiving elementary school shareholders. Disaster averted.

Lexington Community Farm, 52 Lowell Street, Lexington, MA, 781-862-7247. Hours: M, T closed; W-F 11 am – 5 pm; SAT 9 am – 5 pm; SUN 10 am – 4 pm. Map here.

Alpha Kale

Remember how I was complaining that a half-dozen college guys moved in next door? And how I was bracing myself for frat parties every night? I don't want to jinx anything, but the school year just ended and not a single frat party was had. Also, get this, those same college guys are building the most amazing garden in the front yard.

It all started when one of them came by to ask if they could borrow a shovel. Theirs had broken and they were in the throws of a major garden construction project. At least that's what the fresh-faced youth said. I was reluctant to give up my shovel as I assumed "garden" was code for "secret keg storage bunker." But my shovel was right there, we could both see it, so I couldn't exactly say we didn't have one. He returned it promptly and then the project was abandoned for weeks. Typical, I thought. Even the promise of icy cold beverages buried deep in the earth couldn't sustain the efforts of the slacker generation.

Then, last week, that same kid emerged with tub after tub of seedlings. Nah, seedlings imply puny little green sprouts. These were sprouts on steroids. They looked like beanstalks fit for a giant. Spinach, kale, sunflowers. Five-gallon buckets full of mystery plants were suspended from the beams of the porch, vines cascading down between the columns.

What the hell? Do they have grow lights in the basement? My own sprouts emerge only tentatively and in the feeblest of fashions. Our yard adjacent to theirs consists of massive weeds and unruly raspberry canes mixed in with the remnants of our demolished upstairs porch scattered everywhere. The only thing growing at the moment is our pile of white trash.

Meanwhile, just over the property line, raised beds were being built. Terracing was carved into the hill. The term "hardening off" was used, and not in the way I expected a college guy to use it.

So why am I over here acting all pissy about such a positive development?

I'll tell you why. Because for years my story about why I'm such a crappy gardener has been that that our yard is not suitable for gardening--not enough sun, poor and rocky soil, north-facing slope. It's the shitty terroir, not me. Then along come these whippersnappers who recreate the Hanging Gardens of Babylon a mere three feet away. They've single-handedly ruined my cover.

I've been doing pretty well with the school garden of late, or so I thought, but now I totally have to up my game. Come September, we'll see who has the better garden, them or me.

It's on, College Boys!

Strawberry Rhubarb Crumb Bars

I think I've mentioned how much I love rhubarb: rhubarb pie, rhubarb crisp, rhubarb parfaits. I may be a minority on this, but I like my rhubarb to stand alone. However, in the interest of diversity on my blog, I offer you these Strawberry Rhubarb Crumb Bars. The rhubarb in our school garden is going gangbusters, and there's no way elementary school kids are going to eat it all unless it's mixed with something they know is good. Like strawberries. And a sweet crumbly topping. You have to earn their trust first, and then maybe you can subtract the berries. (Maybe.)


Strawberry-Rhubarb Crumb Bars   

This makes enough to feed a crowd. For a smaller group, halve the recipe and make it in an 8x8-inch pan. Prepare to eat it all within a few days as the moisture from the fruit tends to uncrisp the topping over time.

Dough
21/2 cups all-purpose flour, divided
1 cup light brown sugar, firmly packed
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
12 Tbsp. unsalted butter, cold, cut into 6 pieces
2 oz. cream cheese
1 large egg
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
1/2 cup chopped walnuts (optional)
1/4 tsp. ground cardamom (optional)

Fruit
1/2 pound (2 cups) strawberries, hulled, halved, and thinly sliced
1 pound (4 cups) rhubarb, cut into roughly 1/2-inch thick pieces

1/2 cup light brown sugar, firmly packed
1 tablespoon lemon juice

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Grease a 9x13-inch pan.

For the dough, put 2 cups of flour into the bowl of the food processor along with the brown sugar, baking powder, and salt. Add the butter and cream cheese, and pulse the motor until the mixture is moist and crumbly. Dump everything out into a medium bowl. Measure 3 cups of the mixture and add back to the food processor along with the remaining 1/2 cup of flour, egg, and vanilla. Blend just until it starts to come together into a dough. Press the clumps evenly into the pan. Bake for 10 minutes until puffy.

Meanwhile, combine the strawberries, rhubarb, brown sugar, and lemon juice in a large bowl. Spread the fruit in an even layer over the surface of the partially baked crust.

To the bowl of reserved streusel topping, add the walnuts and cardamom if desired, and work in with your fingers until pebbly. Sprinkle the topping over the surface of the fruit. Bake again for 40 to 50 minutes until the topping is light golden brown. Let cool completely before slicing. Store uncovered for a day or two to keep the streusel from getting soggy.

Source: Adapted from The Kitchn and The Tart Tart

Maple Balsamic Slow-Cooker Ribs

I was all ready to pack the slow-cooker away to prove that, yes, winter is finally over now that it's May, but then I remembered: We still have another month of baseball and soccer ahead of us. A whole month of practices and games, 80% of which eat into the weekday dinner hours. Maybe I shouldn't be so hasty. Crockpots aren't just for the winter, after all. With a little advanced planning, they can save us from the temptation to eat from the concession stand three to four nights a week instead of having a proper meal. Which is something I would totally do and then not tell you.

So here's one of those 8 o'clock post-game meals the kids loved. Serve these tender, sticky, sweet and sour ribs with leftover mashed potatoes and microwave peas (for example) and you'll have dinner on the table in under 20 minutes. That's enough time for both kids to emerge from the shower squeaky clean and willing to eat whatever you put in front of them. Especially when it's awesome.


Maple Balsamic Slow-Cooker Ribs    

Throw the ribs in the crockpot before work and then finish them in the oven right before dinner so you get the best of both worlds: the tenderness of long, slow cooking combined with high heat caramelization.

1 3-lb. rack of spare ribs, cut between the ribs into 4 slabs
Salt and black pepper to taste
6 garlic cloves, peeled, smashed
2 bay leaves
1 sprig fresh sage
1 cup water
1/3 cup maple syrup, preferably Grade B
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
1 Tbsp. soy sauce
1-inch piece of fresh ginger, smashed
1/4 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. black pepper

Blot the ribs dry with paper towels and sprinkle both sides generously with salt and pepper. Arrange 4 of the garlic cloves in the bottom of the slow-cooker along with the bay leaves and sage. Set the ribs on top, overlapping slightly. Pour in the water. Cover the pot and cook on low for 6 to 8 hours or on high from 4 to 6 hours until the meat is very tender and threatening to fall right off the bone (times may vary).

Twenty minutes before serving, combine the maple syrup, balsamic vinegar, soy sauce, remaining 2 cloves of garlic, ginger, salt, and pepper in a small pot. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to medium-low and simmer until the mixture thickens slightly, 5 to 7 minutes.

Preheat your broiler on high. Carefully remove the ribs from the crockpot and arrange on a rimmed baking sheet. Brush one side with the sauce and broil about 2 minutes until glazy and caramelized but not burned. Keep a close eye on the meat as broiler times may vary. Remove the pan from the oven, flip the meat carefully, and brush the other side with sauce. Again, broil 2 minutes. If you have any sauce left, you can flip once more, apply the glaze, and broil for one minute longer, but you don't want to dry out the meat, so leave it at that. Let cool slightly. Serves 4.

Local Sources:
Pork: Chestnut Farms, Hardwick, MA
Maple syrup: Williams Farm Sugarhouse, Deerfield, MA

Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Granola Bars

Here's a good recipe for chewy granola bars packed with salty peanuts and chocolate chips. I'm not going to claim this is health food despite all the oats and nuts. After all, these bars contain quite a bit of the sweet stuff, too. But they do pack a lot of energy into a tasty, portable package if, say, the kids need a boost before soccer or baseball or lacrosse.

Put it this way, before the 11YO had one of these granola bars, he planned to just walk the Moody Street 5K. Next thing you know, all the granola bars are gone and he's practically right behind me on the course, running with his best friend. Maybe there's no correlation. Maybe he was carried by the crowd's cheers. Maybe he's faster without his appendix. But here's what I do know for sure: the kids are already requesting more granola bars.

Chewy Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Granola Bars    

If you don't have brown rice syrup, you can substitute, as I did, with golden syrup, date syrup, or honey.

1/2 cup smooth natural peanut butter
1/3 cup maple syrup
1/3 cup brown rice syrup
1 tablespoon canola oil
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 cups rolled oats
1 cup crisp rice cereal (like Rice Krispies)
1/2 cup salted roasted peanuts, roughly chopped
1/3 cup semisweet chocolate chips

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Grease an 8-inch square baking pan and line it with parchment paper, letting the ends overhang a little.

In a large bowl, stir together the peanut butter, maple syrup, and brown rice syrup with a large fork until smooth. Mix in the oil, vanilla, and salt. Add the oats and crisp rice cereal, and stir with the fork until well mixed. Next, run your hands under running water and then knead the mixture firmly, allowing the cereal to crunch up under the pressure. Add the peanuts and chocolate chips, and knead again until well distributed.

Transfer the mixture to the prepared pan and press in as firmly and evenly as you can. The firmer you press in the mixture, the better the bars will hold together. Bake for 22 to 25 minutes, until the edges appear golden.

Let the bars cool completely in the pan. Remove from the pan by pulling up the sides of the parchment and set on a cutting board. The best way to slice the bars is to use a chef's knife and press down in one firm motion. Do not saw through the bars. Store in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 5 days.

Source: Adapted from Isa Does It by Isa Chandra Moskowitz.

Orange Juice Treachery

This morning, I stumbled downstairs for breakfast to hear the following defiant announcement:

8YO: We are NOT drinking this orange juice. It contains bacteria that's harmful to children.

Yesterday I had bought a quart of orange juice from Russo's, fresh-squeezed and unpasteurized. On the bottle was a warning label about the risks associated with the lack of pasteurization for young children as well as the elderly and immune-compromised. The 8YO had read the label, processed it, and reached what can only be praised as a logical conclusion. I was proud of his thought process but I also felt it necessary to defend my choice, to prove that I wasn't trying to poison anyone.

I explained that most orange juice at the store is cooked to a high temperature to kill any bad bacteria before you buy it. But this particular orange juice was just squeezed yesterday like we would do if we were making it ourselves. We don't need to pasteurize really fresh juice if we use clean hands and keep it in the fridge.

He was still skeptical, you could see it in his face. It was Mom's word against an oversized, official-looking label. Could I be trusted?

I poured us each a glass. He stared at his suspiciously. I brought the glass to my lips. He watched me intently. It reminded me of the scene in The Princess Bride when Vizzini and the Man in Black engage in a battle of wits over whose goblet has been poisoned. The 8YO did eventually take a sip, but only after I tasted mine first and didn't immediately keel over.

Him: I don't like it.

Me: Why not? I strained out all the pulp.

Him: I just don't.

Me: Are you sure? This is some of the best orange juice I've ever had.

Him: Well, you're a girl.

He's got me there. I am a girl. And, as everyone knows, we girls love our juice teeming with harmful bacteria.