It occured to me that in re-reading that “It has been a day of perfect food” post from a while back, there was nearly no meat in it. Just the bit of bacon wrapped around those bleu cheese stuffed dates. Don’t get me wrong, I definitely appreciate a perfectly seared medium rare steak, a juicy pork loin, a crispy skinned chicken thigh, and I’ve never met a seafood I didn’t like. But I frequently go a few days without including any meat in my diet before I really take notice of it’s absence.This past weekend was one such occasion, when the only non-veggie I ate was the shrimp in the shrimp & grits that Yo’s mom made for dinner on Saturday. What else was I nibbling on? Some of it was from the stash that I was gifted with from Specialty Produce, namely the heirloom tomatoes and the Baby Anzious Artichokes. The larger tomatoes I turned into one of my all time favorite “sandwiches” if you can call it that. It’s really just a chunk of lightly toasted French bread, slathered with a little mayonnaise (homemade if you’ve got it lying around), topped with thick slices of tomato, drizzled sparingly with olive oil and sprinkled with salt & pepper. I’ll be honest, I was so excited about their return to my repetoir after months out of season that I just plain forgot to take a picture. I thought about sprinkling everything with a little parmesan and popping it under the broiler for a minute, but in the end raw, juicy and fresh won out. The smaller black cherry tomatoes were just too perfectly sweet and delicious all on their own to mess with very much. I just cut them in half, tossed them with a little olive oil, salt & pepper, and ate them right out of the bowl.
We had some serious fun when it came to the artichokes. The Anzious ones are gorgeous, all purple and green – and tiny. They’re a little bigger than a golf ball, and so tender that once cooked you can eat the whole darn thing.
I found a recipe on the Specialty Produce
website that described a deep frying method, in which the tops of the artichokes are trimmed off, then the whole thing is gently opened up like a flower before being dropped in the hot oil. It also called for the veggies to be blanched first in 300 degree oil, drained and then re-fried at 360 to get super crisp leaves and a perfectly tender heart. About 2 -2 1/2 minutes at each temp should do the trick. Just a little sprinkle of salt a pinch of pepper, and voila! Crispy, crunchy, nutty, artichokie goodness.
I’d used up some nearly stale bread with a big batch of French toast on Saturday morning, planning on popping the leftovers in the toaster oven for breakfast during the week. Problem is, I’m not huge on syrup as a pancake/French toast/waffle topper. So later that afternoon when I discovered that Henry’s had pints of big juicy blackberries on sale for less than a buck, I nabbed three. I’d planned on just eating them plain, tossed with little plain yogurt and honey and my leftover toast, but when I was putting away other groceries the bag of cinnamon sticks I bought for no particular reason fell out. While I was putting it back, I knocked the bag of candied ginger out of place. Then one of the meyer lemons on the counter caught my eye – which in turn reminded me of the heirloom oranges on the kitchen table. Next thing I knew, all three pints of berries had been dumped in a sauce pan, tossed with 1/2 a cup of sugar, the juice & zest of the lemon, the juice of an orange, a cinnamon stick, four chunks of candied ginger, a sprinkling of nutmeg, and a shot of Jameson whiskey I happened upon in the freezer. I topped it all off with just a little water, and set it to simmering. I let it go for about 45 minutes on low, then stirred in a little corn starch to thicken everything up. So far I’ve used it on it’s originally intended French toast, chocolate ice cream, and steel cut oatmeal. I’ll probably go back to Henry’s and buy a bunch more berries for freezing tomorrow, so this magical little concoction can be a part of my life long after their peak season.
