Why to amend a chef's recipe [Citrus Beet Salad]

To the rest of the food world who turns on cable television more than once every six months, Chris Hastings is a big deal. Key words: Iron Chef.

To the world of critical food snobbery, he is also a big deal. Key words: James Beard.

And while I am certain he lives up to his fame as Best Chef in the South, I do know one thing: he crafts restaurant recipes, not so much friendly-for-the-home kitchen recipes. Or such was the case in my experience.

The "Chef's Garden Beet Salad" trouble started at the grocery store when I was executing the first step of Project Make-a-Recipe-to-in-the-Name-of-Needing-a-Photo-for-the-Paper. Three kinds of beets? Surely one will do. Arugula and frisee? I see mixed baby greens!

Photos for Village Living

And then when I got to the kitchen, it was two kids of olive oil? Why in the world when you can just have one? Fresh orange juice? I have carton of oj in the fridge that surely will do just fine. Fresh thyme? Umm, let's do dried. Lemon and lime juice? I have lemons; they'll do. Individually plate each salad with all ingredients? Salads taste pretty swell tossed en mass in my book.

And then came the necessary evil: reducing 1 cup of orange juice to 3 tablespoons. Is this what chefs do all day --> — wait for-e-ver for juice to reduce to a tiny fraction of its volume?  I just roasted beets for more than an hour, and I thought that was my time splurge. I did in fact wait and wait and wait for the oj to reduce to a thick, dark and delicious syrup. I do not know that I would have the patience for it again when surely just juice would taste good enough for a citrus dressing.

I don't mind spending time in the kitchen on a special project, but this project required cutting corners to avoid spending literally all night to make a salad. Power to chefs, but on this here blog you will find home kitchen recipes. And that is why I dumbed down poor Chris Hastings' recipe.

Disclaimer: This post is in no way meant to belittle the awesome work of Chef Hastings and Hot and Hot. I just felt the need to simplify his recipe when I was making it for personal consumption. His recipe is indeed tasty my way and would probably be all the more so with his much more complex method.

A new (old) kind of farm life

So lately summertime busyness happened. Cakes happened, cookies happened, party planning happened, trying new foods happened. Blogging did not happen. But now I am back, with the caveat that face-to-face relationship time can always gets prioritized above my self-imposed weekly blogging schedule (thanks to thinking on the role of technology inspired by this talk).

As of late I have been hearing about farms and how they ain't around the state of Alabama like they used to be. Farmers' kids grew up and moved to the suburbs. Farming got more commercialized, and the the lifestyle and profession became less popular and less profitable. So said Nick Pihakis, founder of the Jim 'N Nick's empire (below on right), when I walked around a farm with him. And so said Andrew Grace in Eating Alabama, his new documentary about the year he and his wife exclusively ate food farmed in our fair state.

Photos taken for 280 Living. 

Nick doesn't dream small. He has a vision for family farm that can be sustained by selling produce to restaurants like his, and where the family who lives on that farm eats off the land. He's testing out this idea on a plot in Mt Laurel in the Birmingham suburbs, as pictured. With this model, he has hopes to rebuild the agricultural structure of the South. Learning all this on a farm tour with the equivalent of a movie star in the Southern food world (and sharing the story with the community around the farm) made every drop of sweat on that day so worth it.

As for Andrew, he get major points for lengths to which he traveled to keep his eat local goal, but he didn't end things as optimistic as he began. Times have changed. The farm system is really messed up.  We can't live in a seemingly more idyllic time when we ate off our land. His conclusion, or at least the version of it that stuck with me, is that we can do little things to reclaim that ideal though. 

Andrew maintained much of his new local eating lifestyle: keeping up gardens in his front and back yards, buying farm shares, hanging out with farmers. It's the image he captures of a long table of farmers and friends outside at sunset passing dinner dishes, presumably made from locally grown foods— a glossy magazine image that we can in fact practice on a smaller scale with friends and food and the land around us, whatever it might look like.

Photo from EatingAlabama.com

Evidence I am prideful: I got pretty excited when in Eating Alabama (trailer below) Andrew visits the Mt Laurel farm I wrote about. Only when he filmed it, it was just a teaching farm and Nick's experimental working farm had not been started, so in some ways I felt like I wrote an addendum to the film.

Meeting the chefs behind the latest fresh food concepts in Birmingham

All of a sudden, there is farm-fresh food coming in everywhere I look in this Magic City I have been reclaiming as my own. New farmers markets have come to the city at Railroad Park on Wednesdays and even at suburban concrete chain store mecca The Summit on Thursdays to add to the Saturday market spread at Pepper Place, East Lake, Homewood, West Homewood, Valleydale and Mt Laurel. Not to mention that Freshfully's storefront just opened in Avondale to complete a triumvirate of brewery-barbecue (or even better, Pork and Greens plate served over grits topped and topped with onion rings!)-market on 41st Street, marrying my East Birmingham love with food love.

Also, there are restaurant dudes in my papers' areas doing uber cool things with fresh food. I got to chat with these guys and take their pictures over the past month, because my job rocks.

Little Donkey
Homewood
Josh Gentry

Josh, Chiliquiles (fancy nachos), fresh veggies and the corn grinding machine. Photo for The Homewood Star.

Josh Gentry insisted I drink a Corona and munch on Queso Fundido ("cheese dip's" far superior cousin: sausage and veggies topped with a thick layer of cheese you "grab" with a corn tortilla) while I interviewed him. I like to think I know about food, but  Gentry opened the door to a world I don't entirely know when he went through a who's who in the chefs who endorsed Ideas in Food (the guy who wrote it advises Little Donkey as they create new dishes) while we chatted. He and the other masterminds behind the restaurant know how to cook pulled pork (they are the Jim N Nick's guys), but here they mix it with authentic Mexican flavors and, best of all, lots of fresh avocado. I'm still dreaming of their slow-cooked meat, and their fish taco.


Food Studio B
Chelsea
Sean Butler 

Photo for 280 Living.

My mom met me for lunch at Food Studio B after my interview with chef and owner Sean Butler, and she insisted we go back the next week when we were driving by on our way out of town. The following week, I talked with my hairdresser about how Sean delivers healthy yet awesomely delicious meals to their salon, a different meal for each day, as a part of how he caters to the Paleo (meats, veggies, seeds — loved by Irontribe enthusiasts and others, too) diet around town.

I loved hearing him talk about how important his son, the business' namesake is, and his dreams to have like 15 restaurant concepts (bakery, cafe, caterer, snack food creator, wine dinners, market, ice cream parlor, cooking class host) in one — all fresh, healthy and mouthwatering — in his new space in Chelsea. And, he has an excellent baker on staff, whose yellow cake with fudge icing was unbelievably from-scratch, real-butter tasty.

Shindigs
Mountain Brook/Everywhere
Chad Schofield and Mac Russell

Prideful point: Mac (left) called to tell me he liked my picture of "Mountain Brook Mondays"; yay. Photo for Village Living.

These guys make vegan meatballs ("L.A. balls") taste better than meat. And anything that comes from their truck is fresh fist-full of flavors that make me say "wow" every time. Every time. They now park in Mountain Brook on Mondays, making it super convenient for me to drop by from work; it's dangerous.

Conclusion: As much as my friends and I tend to talk of the idealism of moving to a farm in the country one day, I am quite content with the farm coming to me at markets and in restaurants that so respect where their food is grown.