Au Revoir, Isabelle

A good friend from the farmer's market is leaving us to help take care of a new grandbaby. We have a wonderful goodbye party at the Laughing Whale--believe me, when a bunch of organic farmers and foodies decide to have a party, they can really bring it! I had the honor of giving her goodbye address--here's an excerpt:

We’re all here today to say goodbye to Isabelle. I know that everyone here is thrilled for her to have this opportunity to be close to grandchildren and to go forth into new adventures. And I know that everyone here is sad for themselves to be saying goodbye. She will be so missed.

When I first moved to Lunenburg six years ago and came to the farmer’s market that spring, I couldn’t believe the line at Vendeene. For weeks, I was too intimidated to join it. My husband and I made jokes about what illicit substances were being dealt out of that little blue cooler. I didn’t understand. Could the bread really be that good? Or was it the charming personality behind the counter? Now I know it was both.

Once I did start standing in that line, Isabelle quickly became the guiding star of the market for me--as she has been for so many others. Her tremendous kindness and diplomacy have come to the fore whenever I have tried to speak French. She’s taken the time to know my family, and share hers with me, especially pictures of her gorgeous granddaughter, Danica. I’d like to think I’m special, but I know she shares herself as lovingly and generously with many, many people. Isabelle has an art for making everyone feel special.

I’ve been asking around about you, Isabelle, in preparation for speaking today. People have told me that you are gifted at making a gorgeous meal out of whatever is in season. And that at every market you arrive and literally dance across the parking lot singing “allo” to everyone there. You know your customers like nobody’s business, and tell them their orders just as often as the other way around. Your hugs last a week—or at least last you for a week! And everyone knows that if you’re feeling down, you should just go talk to Isabelle. She’ll tell you that you look wonderful and smile at you with a twinkle in her eye, and the day will improve.

If every vendor at the market is a bead on a chain, Isabelle has been the clasp that completes the circle. Goodbye, Isabelle. Thank you for being with us while you were with us, and take our love and our blessings into the future, to accompany you wherever you go. To Isabelle!

Comfy Bed

This was the perfect sunny Sunday to get our new raised bed set up. There's an ill amount of our own compost in there, along with two varieties of tomato (Hogheart and Amish Paste) and two lettuces from BW. John's putting his chile seedlings in the other half. In the background are rhubarb, corn, spinach, a touch of kale, carrots, and a ridiculous amount of garlic.

Tea Time

I can't believe I never tried tea with fresh leaves before. Same concept as tea with dried leaves--just put them in a teapot (or in my case, measurinng bowl), pour hot water over them, steep, strain, and drink.

These is peppermint and lemon balm from Rumtopf Farm. Just beyond delicious.

Hot Cold Spicy Yum

This must be one of the best ideas I've ever had.

(Okay, it was actually my four year old's idea. But I made him, so does that count?)

Mexican Hot Chocolate Popsicles


Ingredients

2 cans of sweetened condensed milk
5 oz unsweetened chocolate (like always, I prefere Scharffen Berger)
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp cinammon (fresh ground if you can manage it)
a pinch of chile powder
a generous handful of mini-marshmallows
cream to taste

Directions

Heat milk and chocolate over gentle heat until chocolate is melted and fully incorporated, then add vanilla, cinammon, and chile. Stir until well-blended. Taste the liquid--if it's too sweet for you, thin with cream until it reaches the desired level. Add mini-marshmallows and stir until they are melted about halfway (they will continue to melt after you pour the popsicles). Remove from heat and pour the mixture into popsicle molds--or if you want to go old-school, an ice cube tray. Insert popsicle sticks (or if you're using an ice cube tray, cover the top with plastic wrap and poke toothpicks into each square). Freeze overnight. Enjoy!

Tricks are for Kids

My favorite Secret Mommy Trick for infusing fresh, local produce into the diet of my carbohydrate-loving four year old is to make stocks. Lots and lots of them, brimming with with chicken or beef bones and whatever's in season. Today's stock features spring greens of the south shore of Nova Scotia: stinging nettles and parsley from Sustenance Gardens, asparagus and fiddleheads from Donna at the Mahone Bay farmer's market, and both regular chives and garlic chives from my own garden. (Plus there's a whole chicken from MacNeill Farms under there somewhere, trust me!) I just rinse it all off, dump it in the crockpot with a couple cups of water, and walk away for the afternoon.

Later, I'll compost the vegetables, strain the broth, and strip the chicken carcass. The broth will go into the fridge until a solid layer of fat forms on the top. I'll strain this off and put it in a separate container. Then I'll use some of the fat to toast grains of rice before cooking it in the broth. Put a little parmesan cheese on top and the plain, shredded chicken on the side, and there's a delicious, organic, local, nutrition-packed, picky-proof meal for the little one. Oh, and me too. ;-)

More for the Compost Heap

When push comes to shove, I'm an imprecise cook. Inventive, experienced... even inspired, at times. But give me an exact procedure such as those common to pastry-making, and I sink to the bottom of the class.

So it was not a surprise when my stinging nettle soup failed. One is supposed to wear gloves to destem and chop the nettles before cooking. That sounded like a recipe for a kitchen full of little nettle-y bits to me. Instead, I dumped them whole into the soup, theorizing that I could strip the leaves from the stems after they cooked, avoiding the stingyness altogether. That didn't turn out to be a valid theory.

Well, I don't get too fussed about Cooking Gone Wrong. If I didn't experiment, I wouldn't keep learning. Instead I started musing about how to use nettles successfully without chopping OR destemming. And by Jove, I think I've got it. Tomorrow I'm making a stewed chicken with nettles and garlic chives in the crockpot. It's an easy recipe that makes both the chicken and a fabulous stock in one fell swoop.

I'll report back soon. Cross your fingers for me.

Bucolica

First outdoor market of the year. Gluten free bakers, saxophone players, and Glad Gardens friends from the Valley with enormous rhuarb and verging-on-obscene asparagus. They built a log greenhouse over the winter and invited me to come check it out. Local chefs with crepes and pates, the welcome addition of a menu from Vendeene. Babies everywhere.

Later, visiting friends inland, a warm, summery day. Ate French pastries from the market with blueberry tea. Kids fed dandelions to the chickens and chased the kitties through the wildflowers. Hills of fresh spring grass, glowing. Then home again, home again, to the cool sea air.