Ode to (Her) Pho

Mother of the grace-brown broth
Closed her kitchen last April
A small shop with orange vinyl and mirrors

Everyday she slow simmered bone
From a Vietnamese family recipe, pulling
Marrow like espresso

From a contentment of herbs—
Star anise, Saigon cinnamon, charred ginger
And cloves

Her brew was not for the fainthearted
Served with brisket or tripe
Fatty flank, tendon and meatballs

But her shop was our mid-winter apothecary
Where we accepted her steaming distillation
Like a spa treatment

Lovingly garnished each bowl of soup
With the kindness of Thai basil
Bean sprouts and lime

We still mourn the closing of her store
Looking all over town for something to compare
We suspect we will have found it

When the Pho tastes like silk

North Sudanese Lamb

Lovely friend and neighbor Kim dropped by some amazing food that was made by a woman she works with, a refugee from Northern Sudan.

Kim has given me some amazing food from the different populations she serves with her work at Heartland. Last time she brought me the cooking of a Karen man from Burma... curried goat and deep-fried(?) hard-boiled eggs. Very very very tasty.

Today is Northern Sudanese Lamb. I love dishes like this. Clearly made with love and straight from the heart, this was simultaneously mysterious and comfort food. The thick sauce was full of spinach and a variety of spices that continue to elude me as I keep tasting it. It is exotic but mostly, you can taste tradition. You get the distinct sense that the air smells very different where this came from, the quality of light is different...

Home cooking from far-flung locales is about the best food in the world. Thanks, Kim!

Tulie Bakery

My friend Kate is opening a new bakery and I got some of the test pastries last night! Oh boy, were they good... I can't wait to spend money there. I went by today and the space looks great. She looks tired but really happy. Kate says they'll be opening slowly starting next week. The website will be http://tuliebakery.com/
I got croissants and morning buns.

The croissants were robust and buttery. I decided to take them over the top. Stefanie's coworker had given us some wild duck breasts minus the skins. I guess it's easier to field harvest just the breast of the duck. But I didn't really know what to do with them without the fatty skin. S. found some duckfat in a tub from Liberty Hts. and so began a perfect storm. I sliced about 8 duck breasts and put them in a little glass casserole with a far too generous scoop of duckfat, some minced shallots, salt and red wine. An hour and a half later, they became this rich, tender almost-pate. So rich, almost like liver without the mineral flavors. I dolloped the duck onto hunks of the croissants. I love rich food but these should seriously be controlled! Too too good. My tummy still hurts a little.

For breakfast, I had the morning bun and coffee. The buns are really an ideal breakfast food. Sweet but not too sweet, spice... just right, with a hint of orange. Ridiculously peckish to the point of probably being dangerous. So good.

It's good to have good friends who love good food.

changing leaves

pictures from East Canyon last week... such nice colors.

I've been doing tomatillo sauces this week too!

I'll fry a couple pieces of bacon, remove the bacon then throw a chopped onion into the hot grease. Fry that up golden or a little darker then add a bunch of chopped tomatillos, salt and sprinkle with some smoked paprika, barely cover with water and cook until the tomatillos change color and get a little transparent... like 10 minutes. I then put that into the blender with some fresh cilantro and a couple of fresh garlic cloves and then blend. Viola! No chiles for Ms. Slade's palate.

Tomatillo's stickiness is always a bit of a wonder for me. They will just sudse and sudse under the water. I like husking the papery chinese lantern shells. They look so fresh and new under their husks.

In one batch I put a dollop of that Indian Patak's Garlic Relish in the blender too. It totally transformed the distinctly southwest flavor of salsa verde into a light and delicate indian sauce, very... ummm... authentic tasting... sophisticated. Like salsa verde was adopted and raised in India, some blend of karma and fate making it a new native. still have some if you want a taste? I served that on some salmon on a bed of baby arugula and lettuce dressed with lemon juice and a bit of walnut oil, my preferred blend for arugula. Yum yum.

Your canning story is lovely. Can't wait for more. Mmmmmm. Elderberries. Wanna read, wanna taste.

Tomatillos

This weekend I canned the tomatillos and elderberries in season on the farm. Last year, Mom let the tomatillos reseed in a liberal patch of earth. A veritable jungle of tomatillo vines almost made me turn away from the prospect of picking. My endurance payed off. Picked two baskets full. Many of the ripe ones had fallen to the ground, and had to contend with earwigs and spiders. The smell and lanolin-like residue from the tomatillos stuck to my fingers and clothes when I took the larder into the kitchen for processing. The recipe called for, other than tomatillo's, onions (which we got from the garden), and chiles ( again from the garden), lemon and lime, apple cider vinegar, lot's of garlic, cilantro, cumin and salt. Food processed all the ingredients and put everything into two large stew pots. Let the whole thing simmer for over and hour. Put everything in bottles and sent them all thorough a canning steam bath. When we pulled each bottle from the steam-bath, and wiped them down with a towel--really felt like I was rubbing down a child or my own body from time in a sauna. Some strange, old delight took over. I was the girl making beautiful green salsa--not to mention, the delight in learning the old lessons from my mother, who was taught to can by her mother-in-law--grandma Ruth.
I will tell you about elderberries in my next missive.