
not ready to eat
This week on my summer staycation, I bought:
- one bunch carrots
- one baguette
- one loaf Italian bread
- one bunch cilantro
- two large onions
- one cucumber
- one 4″ chocolate tart
- six Grimaldi’s kaiser rolls
- one half pound ground lamb
- one half pound ground chuck
- two pork sausage with broccoli rabe
- one-third pound goat brie
- one box Finn Crisp multigrain crackers
- one jar Nutella
- one dozen eggs, semi-responsible
I would have spent four dollars more, but the cashier missed one of my items. I would have spent two dollars less, but the meat guy gave me fancier stuff than I asked for. I had been checking out sausages. In his mind, maybe I got what I asked for. In my mind, maybe I got what I needed. I leave it to you to come to your own conclusions about karma. I think of it like buying drinks: what goes out comes back. I think of it as one facet of a lasting relationship with a grocery store.
CSA-related content and recipe for Burgers of Shalom below the fold.
From my CSA, I received:
- half a pound green beans, intensely fresh
- one head lettuce, tender, sweet
- one bunch collards, with leaves like ping-pong paddles
- one head garlic, dirty
- one daikon radish, with sheafy tops intact
- two ears corn, not yet touched
- two bunches basil, licoricy, intense
- two nectarines, unripe
- three donut peaches, stupid, unripe
- one-half pint blueberries, tart
The descriptions of items from the CSA are more florid than others. That is because they describe florid things, specifically the produce from Red Hook’s Added Value CSA. It snapped harder. It tasted sweeter, sharper, brighter. It had character. No surprise there: not only was it carefully grown, it traveled the shortest supply chain: perhaps one hundred yards from field to washing station to folding table. It didn’t matter that they opened a little later than they expected; they were busy picking vegetables. They were busy picking vegetables. Between barbed-wire warehouses and corn-bright Ikea, they were busy picking vegetables. They don’t have a fridge yet. They’re getting one, they say, so they can harvest the night before, instead of the morning of. Harvested an hour ago, a hundred yards away. I wish them the easier labor, but I will always remember the green beans of August.
I have not made mention of Nutella before. Close observers of my kitchen webcam feed will note that I haven’t been working off a stash of it. My heart and I will tell you that, in the interest of this blog, and through frank necessity, this was my first Nutella in six months at least. And let me tell you, I like Nutella. I especially like it when I’m cycling more, as I am now. My hunger for calories increases. My metabolism rises. I burn it faster, I burn it more. I burn along the road, wanting more. A lot of people pass me, and I want some Nutella when I get home. After a ride the other day, I had a peanut butter and Nutella sandwich, sprinkled with Spanish peanuts, on a kaiser roll. It was excellent. My favorite post-ride food remains a thin meat sandwich and a beer, after the fashion of Eddy Merckx. My current favorite on-the-bike foods are almonds and Payday bars. But that’s another entry.
There are also the chocolate pastries. Those are chocolate pastries of peace and understanding. They were eaten after burgers of shalom. They pushed me over budget for the week. They were worth it.
Altogether, I spent about $65, or $73, if you count the CSA. Assuming that I account fo 4/5ths of it, that works out to about $52, or $58, depending. I suspect that I should revise the adjustment factor downward, because I think I’ve been eating less than four-fifths of the food lately. In the interest of spinning my numbers, I hope to make a researched case for that soon.
Burgers of Shalom
Knead together:
- half a pound ground beef
- half a pound ground lamb
- half a cup of fresh breadcrumbs from stale bread
- a tablespoon of pimentón
- a little tarragon
- two tablespoons of melted butter and one of water
Shape into patties. I make mine palm-size. I have large palms.
Sear in a hot cast iron pan, about four minutes to the side for medium-rare
Serve on kaiser rolls toasted in the fat thrown by the meat, with lettuce, tomato, and ketchup or mustard.





#1 by Cristen at August 10th, 2009
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The corn from the Red Hook CSA is one of my favorite things. It’s so sweet and delicious. I’m looking forward to just roasting mine and enjoying!
The Burgers of Shalom sound delicious. I’ll have to add those into next week’s menu.
#2 by adam at August 11th, 2009
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Thanks, Cristen! I’m excited that you’re trying the $50/week thing. The WordPress Incoming Link Daemon seems to be on summer break, so I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t written in. Thanks for the linkage!
#3 by adh at August 11th, 2009
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You joined the CSA! Yay. Now you can start getting CSA newsletters from me, too. Not just dog news.
#4 by adam at August 11th, 2009
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All of which could easily be duped to a blog…
Seriously, though, is there an urban CSA with a shorter supply chain anywhere? Red Hook FTW.
#5 by marthagrace at August 11th, 2009
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are donut peaches stupid because they’re not actually donuts? i think they are the best peaches around, personally.
#6 by adam at August 11th, 2009
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Marthagrace, it’s funny that you mention it. I had two of the donut peaches for dessert last night, and meant to write something about them, but lost the thought in the bean-glow.
Most of the donut peaches I’ve tasted have been both mealy and overpriced. I don’t want to pay more for lousy produce, just because it happens to be toroidal. But those were not these donut peaches. These donut peaches were delicious. The flesh was firm, slick, and juicy, almost more like a plumcot than a Late Alberta peach. If they lacked the wonderful fuzziness of a tree-fresh peach, they were easier to eat. The toroidal shape meant that I could work my way around the pit by bite-sized pieces. No noseful of peach fuzz, no juice on the chin. Wise, these old Chinese cultivators. There’s something to that shape.
So, I must ask myself, if a donut peach can be that good, and offer the convenience that only a toroidal fruit can, should I embrace it? Well, ok. Going further, should I elevate the donut peach above the conventionally-shaped peach? No, I can’t. As much as I turned out to like the donut peaches I received (from Red Jacket Orchards, through the Added Value Farms CSA), I prefer peach-shaped peaches. I want the noseful of fuzz. I want the juice dripping down my chin. I want the intensely pleasurable, messy experience that only a bolus-peach can provide, that surfeit of unstoppable sweetness that, to me, says summer like nothing else.
Them’s my peaches and I’m sticking to ‘em.