FARMERS MARKET REPORT

This past weekend, my friend Robert and I went to the Santa Monica Farmers Market to do some shopping. Well, I shopped and he played with his camera. The trip was such a success, meaning such a money-suck, that I will be doing group trips to the local farmers market every Sunday starting from now on. So if you are interested and in the Los Angeles area, give me a holler. We can ooh and ahh over the season's bests together.


Watermelon salad, anyone?


Stone fruit du jour. Picturesque white peaches. Truly.


Bounty for my soon-to-be assembled farro salad.


I wasn't at Scarborough Fair. I was at the Santa Monica Farmer's Market.


Aubergines or eggplants, call em what you will. They taste great grilled, steamed, sauteéd, raw, how-eva you like them.


Pretzel roll, not doing a yoga pose but kind of just being round and plump and delicious.


Peep show.


Ever seen Twins with Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny Devito? This is the tomato version.


Thank you and good night.

While I was mostly impressed with the market's offerings, I was disappointed by the lack of essential ingredients like ginger, garlic, shallots, and red chilies. There was definitely an emphasis on fruit; tables of various stone and citrus fruits were on display. I did pick up an interesting cabbage/radish hybrid called the raphanobrassica. The vendor suggested that I shave it into salads. I think I might include it in my highly-anticipated farro salad with roasted vegetables, via jamieoliver.com.



images courtesy of Robert Festino


LOCATED

Santa Monica Farmers Market
1901 Main St # 2
Santa Monica, CA 90405-1082
(310) 458-8712

Alhambra Farmers Market Sunday Report

Los Angeles farmers market-goers are never short of fresh fruit, produce, and these days, protein, bread, and tamales. I rarely miss the opportunity to find out what’s in season. Cooking with Jamie means cooking with the same type of farm-fresh, local ingredients. Jamie is always cooking from his garden and since my garden is limited to a small potted mint plant, I’ve had to familiarize myself with nearby markets for herbs, greens, and other seasonal loot.

One of my favorite locations to shop at is the Alhambra Farmer’s Market, which is located deep in the armpit of the San Gabriel Valley, on the corner of Chapel and Main. My family and I have been shopping here since the early 90s. And while it’s not as fancy as the Hollywood market, it’s definitely got its own charm. There are two vendors that exclusively sell Asian-y produce like lemongrass, robust, rare greens, and juicy-looking bitter melons. You just have to watch out for the cute but feisty Asian grandmothers clamoring about (usually right by your ear!).

Here are some photos:


various Asian greens


peppers


Snow White bok choy sprout and Taiwanese “A” choy


jumbo leeks, yellow and red beets


cauliflower


Just signed up for the South Central CSA. I’m looking forward to finding out what my next box will bring! And will be working through Jamie’s glossaries in order to find out dishes will evolve from my grab bag-er-box of goodies…

I'm not very good at poaching eggs, don't hate.


For the most part, I have a pretty nondiscriminatory palate. I can eat and enjoy most things. But I’m embarrassed to say that I have qualms about soup. Soup has always been a hurdle. I would cringe whenever the school cafeteria decided to serve grilled cheese with a side of tomato soup. During those lunches, I would try to barter for bags of Flaming Hot Cheetos or tamarind candy. Dinners were just as dramatic. My grandmother, who claimed that her daikon soup would “cure” me of my brattiness and simultaneously stimulate my growth spurt, would scold me for rejecting her steaming hot saucepan of Asian vegetable-goulash. And if her blood wasn’t boiling enough, I’d open a can of Coke and call it “soup”. An angry tirade in Sichuanese would ensue.

Soup is always served too hot, or not hot enough; it lacks distinct flavors when the temperature is at either extremes. It’s like living in Manhattan. There are only a few occasions when the temperature is just right. And soup that comes silky smooth, as if it had been run through a sieve 5 or more times, loses its place in the “food” category. It becomes “beverage” or worse, “smoothie”.

My Jamie Oliver soup experience was kind of a fluke. I picked up scraggly-looking asparagus at the farmer’s market and wanted to find an easy recipe that called for asparagus. His Creamy Asparagus Soup with a Poached Egg on Toast came up, a sign that it was time to transform my aversion towards soup into something conducive to my learning.

So zuppa it was! Jamie’s recipe is easy and seemingly healthy. I started by cooking a mirepoix that consisted of leeks (left over from the fish dish), onions, and celery. Of course my house–and hair–smelled wonderful at this point. Every step that followed was straightforward and easy.

The only mishap happened when the blender, filled with hot soup mind you, exploded. I guess I didn’t really pay attention in my Physics class because hot liquid + blender = scary. My kitchen counter looked like lawn mower-vomit.

Though I’m not quite a changed woman, I do think that farm-fresh ingredients and plenty of good quality olive oil can heighten the quality of any soup. Maybe the painstaking process of blitzing the soup in a blender made me appreciate the finished product… I guess it’s kind of like dating. Yes, it's that other painstaking process that I'm still trying to figure out.



Anorexic asparagus mixing it up with the regular-sized crowd.


Mire poix, sautéed until soft.


Post-blitz.

RECIPE HERE Creamy Asparagus Soup with a Poached Egg on Toast


COOKED FROM

My mum’s a seafood gal. I hardly see her crave any other type of protein. As a child, my fantasy was always to eat a giant bloody steak with plenty of A1 instead of the steamed fish staple that always ended up on the dining table. In the same way I rebelled against her and got a tattoo, I tried to reject her influence over my culinary habits. Consequently, my body is permanently inked but devoid of necessary omega-3 fatty acids.

For her birthday, I decided that I’d indulge her with something oceanic for dinner. The least I could do considering she’s dealt with my bad attitude and bratty tantrums for almost 25 years now. The Jamie at Home cookbook had the perfect recipe: Roasted White Fish with Leeks, and Incredible Smashed Peas and Fava Beans on Toast to start.

I picked up some fresh fava beans and peas from the farmer’s market. Fava beans are in season now as they start to thrive in late spring, and the ones I purchased were robust, with each pod looking like the arm of a tiny, muscular man. The peas were just ok. Both of these podded beans have such distinct flavors that I was concerned about mixing the two, especially uncooked.

Jamie says to purchase a “white fish” and only suggests the “North Atlantic Cod” as an option. Seafood Watch told me to avoid the Atlantic cod (like whitefish or scrod) as it’s currently an endangered fish. I guess I could have just tried it’s brutha from anutha coast, but I naively purchased monkfish instead. I figured that since I’d be roasting the fish, a steakier variety would stand up to the cooking method. Little did I know that monkfish was also endangered. My conscience suffered a beating once I found this out later in the evening.

The recipe calls for a marinade that consisted of pulverized thyme, rosemary, bay leaf, sea salt, fresh lemon juice, and olive oil. It’s an incredibly easy way to dress fish, shrimp, chicken, and even pasta. I tossed the fish in the marinade, and surrounded it with steamed leeks, bacon, fresh rosemary, and thinly sliced lemons. Sitting in a pre-heated roasting dish, the fish sizzled slightly before I popped it in the oven and the fragrant citrus aroma wafted through my kitchen. While the fish was roasting, I dressed slices of toasted sourdough with the smashed peas and fava beans–which after being mixed with olive oil, lemon juice, mint, salt, and pecorino– tasted just like Spring or maybe just raw falafel.

Overall, this meal was fun and easy to put together, especially with all the right ingredients on hand. My mum was a bit confused by the smashed beans/peas and suggested that it tasted like “farm”, whatever that means. She liked the fish, but she’s genetically engineered to, remember? Kind of the same reason why she loves me no matter what–even if I drive a brand new Volkswagon Jetta into a transit bus (yes, that did happen but I was 16). This means, I can’t confirm if this was a successful attempt or not.

I guess mum and I will never really agree on everything but I’d say our contrasting palates is the least of my worries.



Shelled fresh peas and fava beans from the farmers market. Kind of a pain in the ass to shell.


Assorted herbs for lemony marinade and 7 oz. monkfish from Whole Foods.


Marinade after mauling (not the correct culinary term) the herbs with sea salt and drenching all of it in lemon juice and olive oil. Jamie says to do this until the salt “turns green”. I’m a very literal person and the salt never did get as Crayola green as I expected.


Monkfish getting ready for it’s hot tub soak.


The finished product in all it’s juicy bacon fat + lemony marinade glory!



COOKED FROM