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Grilled Leg of Lamb with Warm Spices & Raita + Grilled Carrots with Coriander & Lemon

May 7, 2010 by farmhousetableblog

In the late afternoon, Rain Lily Farm is a magical place. The sun dips down behind the rows, staining the sky purple. Butterflies and bees are busy getting the last of the day’s nectar from chamomile and borage flowers, and the purple martins dip and swoop across the creek. The day’s heat begins to unloose its grasp; swaying slowly under the pecan tree, cool cocktail in hand, is the best place in the world to be. To celebrate spring, we recently planned a dinner party under the pecan trees, a collaborative feast that unfolded slowly, pulled from the field just hours before dinner. There’s a certain energy at Rain Lily that brings out the best in everyone. Our gatherings are never formal, but somehow still infused with meaning and ritual. The guest list is always fluid–it’s the kind of place where people drop by or bring along a friend. New connections are made, old friends feel familiar and comforting. Perhaps because the property is so tucked away, it feels like a secret garden, a very special oasis in our busy lives where time slows down and it’s easy to remember the other rhythms of our lives. The ones that are aligned with the seasons, and sunsets, and lightening bugs.

Grilled Leg of Lamb with Warm Spices

1 whole boneless leg of lamb

2 Tbs. paprika

3 tsp. coriander seeds

2 tsp. fennel seeds

2 tsp. cumin seeds

juice of 1/2 lemon

1 handful cilantro

1/3 c. olive oil

4 cloves garlic, peeled

1 red onion, quartered

salt & pepper

Toast seeds in a small skillet until fragrant. Place in blender with all remaining ingredients except onion and process to a smooth paste. Cover lam with paste and marinate for at least 4 hours & up to 24. Light charcoal fire in 1 half of grill. Allow coals to burn down. Place meat on grill side without charcoal. Cooking time will vary. Cover grill and cook to medium rare, turning frequently to ensure even crust. Allow to rest for 30-45 minutes before carving. Serve with radish or fennel raita.

Radish Raita

1 cup plain yogurt

1 small bunch of radishes, grated

1 shallot, minced

2-3 Tbs. orange or lemon juice

1/4 c. chopped mint

1/4 c. chopped cilantro

salt & pepper

Combine ingredients in a small bowl. Refrigerate until ready to serve.

Grilled Carrots with Coriander & Spring Onion

1 bunch carrots, scrubbed

olive oil

salt & pepper

2 Tbs. coriander seeds, divided

3 cloves garlic, minced

juice of 1 lemon

1/3 c. olive oil

1 bunch spring onions, slivered

1 handful cilantro, chopped

1/4 c. pistachios, toasted and chopped

Toast coriander seeds in a small dry skillet until fragrant. Toss carrots with olive oil, salt and pepper and half of coriander seeds. Grill until charred and tender. Place lemon juice and garlic in a small bowl and allow to sit for 10-15 minutes. Add remaining coriander seeds and drizzle in olive oil in a thin, steady stream, whisking constantly, until emulsified. Place grilled carrots on platter and drizzle with vinaigrette. Top with spring onions, cilantro and pistachios.

more from the dinner party next week . . .

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Roasted Beet and Radish Salad with Pistachios, Smoked Trout & Creamy Dill Vinaigrette

April 30, 2010 by farmhousetableblog

My grandmother, a staunch conservationist and environmentalist way before it was cool, was also the most frugal person I ever knew. Famous for birthday cards that didn’t open–”Happy Birthday to a Girl Who’s . . . “–once you tear the front off the card to give again, the recipient remains forever in a state of suspended anticipation. She was much too midwestern and Anglican to ever dream of finishing the sentiment herself. She saved every scrap of wrapping paper, insisting you open gifts slowly to prevent tearing the perfectly good paper. Her environmentalism was fueled by this same frugality. She hated waste, and that included waste of our natural resources. If we ruined and trashed this earth, we’d have to get a new one, and God knows what that would cost! The very idea of polluting water, ravaging the soil, frittering away our natural resources . . . you could see it made her furious. Equally frugal in the kitchen, “Where should we go eat afterwards?” was always the follow-up question to, ”We’re going to Granny’s for dinner.” We swore we never saw the original meal, but dinner was always “dibs and dabs” of leftovers. She actually was not a bad cook, in a Junior League sort of way–copper pennies, cheddar wafers, chicken in aspic–but there was never very much of it. I lean more towards abundance myself, but the lessons in thrift were not lost on me. I love luxuries in the kitchen–cold-pressed Texas olive oil, pink Himalayan salt, truffle oil, but in my Anglican protestant way, feel I must earn them. There is no way I could talk anyone in this house into the dibs and dabs of my youth, but nevertheless, everything must be put to use. My solution is to reincorporate everything into something new. We eat leftovers all the time, but no one ever knows that’s what they are. Leftover pot roast becomes bolognese sauce, last night’s sauteed greens are fabulous in risotto, roasted carrots and potatoes are revitalized by a vinaigrette and a handful of herbs, the entire contents of a vegetable bin become minestrone. Every ounce of value must be squeezed from each ingredient as well. Chicken bones are never thrown out without first being made into stock. Bacon grease always goes into a jar to add smokiness and salt to a pot of greens. The stems and leaves of broccoli and brussels sprouts plants are the most nutritious and delicious, Boggy Creek’s CarolAnn tells me, so into the pot they go too.

I have said repeatedly that eating local is indeed much more expensive if you simply replace your old “convenience” ingredients with local versions. If we instead make a real change in the way we do things, scrimping and saving along the way, making our own convenience foods (salad dressings, stocks, sauces, etc), freezing and preserving what we can’t use immediately, we’ll find that our grocery bills actually go down. Leaving enough in the budget for little luxuries. Life is about balance. My grandmother would have wholeheartedly embraced a return to localism. It is her legacy that each little act of thrift in my life is filled with meaning and intention for the larger world I live in. The smoked trout? That was my idea.

Roasted Beet and Radish Salad with Pistachios, Smoked Trout & Creamy Dill Vinaigrette

8 oz mixed baby lettuces, washed and spun dry

1 bunch radishes, washed and sliced thin

2-3 spring onions, sliced thin

4-6 beets, roasted, peeled and cut into quarers

4 Tbs. pistachios, toasted

1/4 c. white wine vinegar

3/4 c. olive oil

2 Tbs. minced dill

3 Tbs. creme fraiche or Mexican crema

1 smoked trout, removed from skin & bones, flaked

Place vinegar in a small bowl and slowly drizzle in olive oil, whisking constantly. Season with salt and pepper and whisk in dill. Toss lettuces with vinaigrette, reserving 1/3 in bowl. Arrange greens on serving bowls and place beets, onion and radishes on top. Whisk creme fraiche or crema into remaining vinaigrette and place a dollop on top of each salad. Top with smoked trout and pistachios and serve.

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Tender Spring Vegetable Saute with Smoky Bacon, Mint & Feta

April 23, 2010 by farmhousetableblog

Late spring, 1981. Sitting on the side of the pool at the YMCA, the sound of distant thunder in the background, whispering through gritted teeth, “Please don’t rain, please don’t rain, please, please don’t rain.” The skies grew darker with every reiteration, until finally, the fateful whistle and the end-of-the-year party was over before it began. Ruined by the stupid rain. Springtime will do that to you, over and over again. Last week, I had my fingers crossed for peas, hopefully prepared this recipe, and then, guess what? It rained, and the peas were too wet for shelling. Luckily, the recipe works great with almost any tender spring produce–broccoli, cut into tiny florets, cauliflower, baby spinach, even greens. And, even luckier, spring rains means the peaches will be amazing this year, and the wildflowers are beautiful, and the mornings are soft and dewy and cool.

Tender Spring Vegetable Saute with Smoky Bacon, Mint & Feta

1 pound spring vegetables–English peas, sugar snaps, broccoli florets, cauliflower, spinach or greens

olive oil

smoked bacon

3-4 spring onions, cut into slivers

splash of white wine

5 oz. feta cheese, cut into 1/4″ cubes

small handful mint, chopped

small handful parsley, chopped

salt  & pepper to taste

Blanch vegetables in boiling water for 30-45 seconds, then drain and refresh in ice water. Cut bacon into 1/4″ cubes or lardons and saute in a little olive oil until crisp and fat renders. Add spring onion and continue to saute for 2-3 minutes. Add vegetables to skillet and add white wine to deglaze pan. When hot throughout, add feta cheese and herbs and cook until herbs are bright. Serve sprinkled with additional chopped herbs.

Posted in Recipes, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments »

Lamb & Broccoli Stir-Fry With Lime

April 16, 2010 by farmhousetableblog

Driving down 290 one wet, drippy day last winter, I noticed a warehouse, empty, abandoned, and desolate, with the word “wool” painted on the side, atmospherically faded, close to disappearing. We love that look in Austin–faded remnants of a rural, cowboy past, weathered tin, faded paint, the ghost of a farmers mercantile. Soon I noticed another. And another. Wool? In Texas? Cows, of course, but sheep? Long enough ago to weather and fade, and disappear?

My friend Loncito Cartwright recounts the history of the once-thriving sheep ranching business in Texas. “South Texas was settled by the Irish Empresarios. They had enormous sheep ranches that provided both meat and wool to the local community and to the rest of the country. But then three things happened. First, the herds were hit with internal parasites that the ranchers didn’t know how to treat. Second, the wool market tanked, and third, belt-driven mills everywhere began using cow hide for their belts, so all these guys switched over to raising cattle. A hundred years ago, there were 50 million heads of sheep in West Texas. Now there are 8 million in the whole United States.” He says, sadly, “We’ve become a country that imports our food.”

I ask him if sheep are more sustainable than cattle to raise-should we all be eating lamb instead of beef? He shakes his head, “No, it’s not really about one being better than the other. To truly be sustainable, you need to have all the animals on the ranch together–cows, sheep, pigs, and chickens. All of them are dead-end hosts for the parasites of the others, so by having them all on one property, you control disease and enrich the land.” Loncito plans on putting some cattle on his property soon. If cattle ranchers could see that there was a market for local lamb, maybe they’d start adding some sheep to their herds too. I’ve been eating Texas beef all my life, but Texas lamb has been a most pleasant discovery. Earthy and robust, with more nuance of flavor than beef, I love the way it works with the bright flavors of lime and fish sauce in this stir-fry. With a bright tangle of broccoli or greens, it is a delicious dinner that makes truly sustainable ranching a brighter possibility in Texas.

Lamb & Broccoli Stir-Fry

1 bunch broccoli, cut into florets

grapeseed oil for stir-frying

1 small bunch spring onions, white part only, cut into thin slices

4 cloves garlic, minced

1 pound ground lamb

juice of 1 lime

1/4 c. fish sauce

2 tsp. sugar

1 tsp. hot pepper flakes

salt to taste

small handful fresh cilantro

Blanch broccoli in a large pot of boiling water for 30 seconds. Drain and refresh with ice water. Heat oil in heavy wok until smoking hot. Stir-fry onions and garlic for 15-20 seconds. Add lamb and quickly stir-fry until browned. Add broccoli and continue to stir-fry until broccoli is seared and hot. Stir together lime juice, fish sauce, hot pepper flakes, and sugar until dissolved. Drizzle on top lamb-broccoli mixture. Serve with hot basmati rice and top with cilantro.

http://www.jodyhorton.com

Posted in Recipes, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | 6 Comments »

Crispy Carrot Fritters with Cilantro & Creme Fraiche

April 7, 2010 by farmhousetableblog

I point to tall, green, feathery fronds in the garden: “Pull that, Liam.” He yanks and his eyes go wide with shock and awe. “A carrot!!” Like it’s the last thing in the world he expected. A garden will do that to you. Flowers that become apples, feathery ferns that become asparagus, seeds that become tomatoes with tart juice that runs down your chin. The very idea of a world that renews itself, quivering with life, is enough to shake me to my roots. That I can feel connected to it, and watch it giving birth to itself each spring is truly a gift. The birds and the butterflies are back, the trees are greening, the sap is running, the earth is quickening. Quick, fling the doors open wide and let it in!

Carrot Fritters

1 bunch carrots, peeled and grated on the large holes of a grater

1/3 c. minced onion

1/3 c. grated cheddar

1/4 c. chopped cilantro

1/3 c. flour

1/3 c. creme fraiche, sour cream, or heavy cream (if using cream, reduce quantity to 1/4 c.)

1 egg

salt & pepper

oil for frying (I use grapeseed)

Combine carrots, onion, cheese, and cilantro in a large bowl. Add flour and toss to coat evenly. Whisk together creme fraiche and egg, then add to carrot mixture. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Heat oil in a large, heavy skillet until ripples form. Drop carrot mixture a flatten slightly. When browned, carefully flip over to brown and crisp the other side. Drain on paper towels or a grocery bag and serve warm.

Posted in Recipes, Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 17 Comments »

Grass-Fed Chili

March 28, 2010 by farmhousetableblog

“Change the station!” When my children are in the car, starving to death after school, the radio can be torture . . . “three all-beef patties sizzling on a fresh-baked, cheese and bacon-stuffed bun . . . ” Torture. Being stuck on I 35 at 3:00 in the afternoon in view of an 18 wheeler with 20 foot photos of chips and sodas on the side is my definition of hell. My children and I laugh about food advertisements and have lots of discussion about how insidious they are. They know they are being played, and it’s insulting. They also know how effective advertising is, and this gives rise to other concerns. Walking down the rows at Rain Lily one day, Tess asked, her brow furrowed in real concern, “Why aren’t there ads for real food, for fruit and vegetables, and meat from happy cows?” Good question. We talked about how expensive advertising is, how the companies are using advertising not just to tell people how great their food is, but to keep a giant system going. Small family farms don’t have that kind of money. We considered how much big ag and giant food corporations have to prove. “Look! We really are making food! It tastes just like real food anyway! It’s healthy! Because we said it is!” It takes a 10 year old to point out that the emperor isn’t really wearing any clothes. Real food requires no tricks, no subterfuge, it is healthy, and it tastes just like what it is.

Grass-Fed Chili

2-3 pounds ground beef, bison, or lamb (or a combination)

2 large yellow onions, diced

1 head garlic, peeled and minced

4 Tbs. ground cumin

4 Tbs. ground coriander

4 Tbs. paprika

3 Tbs. Mexican oregano

1/4 c. chile powder (pure ground chile peppers, not blended with garlic powder, etc)

3 28 oz. cans whole peeled tomatoes

4-6 c cooked black beans, drained

In a large stockpot, brown beef. Drain off excess fat and set aside. Saute onions and garlic until softened. Return beef to pot and add spices. Cook, stirring for 5 minutes. Drain tomatoes and place in a large bowl. Crush tomatoes with your hands until they are a saucy consistency. Add to pot and simmer 30 minutes. Add beans and continue simmering another 30 minutes. Serve with cilantro, diced onion and sour cream if desired. Freezes great.

Posted in Recipes, Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 5 Comments »

Polpettine Agrodolce

March 4, 2010 by farmhousetableblog

When I was little, we lived right around the corner from a small grocery store called Jack’s Pak-It, owned by the Fertittas, a close-knit Italian family completely to blame for my lifelong obsession with grocery stores. In the early 1970′s, I was allowed free reign to run around the corner to the store, shop to my heart’s delight, and “charge it.” Whoever paid the bills at my dad’s office regularly underwrote my 1970′s & 80′s cooking experiments and the necessary ingredients for steak Diane, crepes, lemon chicken, pasta salad, and oatmeal cookies with Reese’s pieces. Bear’s Mush, smoked almonds, fruit leather, Dippity-do hair gunk, Lick-M-Aids, popsicles, creme fraiche, tri-color spiral pasta, baking chocolate, Tiger Beat magazine–Jack’s Pak-It was where I got all the supplies I needed for living.

“Jack’s” was a place you could shop for a Fresca barefooted in your swimsuit. It felt like home. Mamie always asked about my grandmother when she rang me up. Her son David ran the store, and could be found behind the butcher counter in the back, looking crisp, snappy, and undeniably professional in a starched shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a long, pristine, white apron. I loved the butcher counter–behind the glass-fronted case were true experts with knives and string and scales and rolls of white paper torn off with an insouciant, skillful rip. “What are you cooking?” they’d ask, “how many are you serving?” “do you want it fat or lean?” I could stand on my tiptoes and watch them skillfully trim and tie a roast, french the bones, truss a bird, cube our stew meat into just the right size pieces. All the while, I couldn’t wait to grow up, to be able to take my pocketbook into the corner butcher shop and have the butcher tell me just what cut I should buy for a tender, juicy roast.

Only . . . I grew up and there weren’t any butcher shops anymore. I remember once asking the “butcher” at the local chain supermarket to grind some lamb for me, and you would have thought I was asking him to cluck like a chicken. What happened to the grocers and butchers who were experts about food? Who made choices about what was ripe, what their community wanted, could tell you how to cook a rabbit or a leg of lamb? The Fertittas had the answers–they stood behind everything they sold, butchered their own meats, and were in their store every single day, connecting with their customers. Most importantly, they lived their lives surrounded by and immersed in food (did I say Italian?).

When I grew up, I decided grocers could save the world, and I knew who my role models would be. Last week, we bought a whole pig and butchered it with Tink, our all-around rock of a delivery man, warehouse manager, inspirational force. He’s worked as a hunting guide, and enlightens us daily with his dreams for starting his own mobile-processing shop. He’s the reason we can build a plan for raising our own animals one day, and starting our own in-house butcher shop now. We watched Tink’s strong, capable hands carving our pig into roasts, grinding sausage, and cutting thick juicy chops. We could see the rich marbling in the meat, the layer of flavorful fat that would make chops and roasts juicy. What would our customers like best? Braising cuts, ground, chops for grilling? We knew this animal was humanely raised, well-cared for and treated with respect and dignity–a quality butcher continues that same level of care and respect for the meat that will reach your table and feed your family. The Fertittas would agree.

Polpettine Agrodolce

2 pounds ground pork

2 eggs

1/2 c. fresh white breadcrumbs

1/3 c. golden raisins

1/4 c. pine nuts, toasted

1 onion, minced

olive oil

salt & pepper

2 c. white wine

2 Tbs. white wine vinegar

2 Tbs. sherry vinegar

chopped Italian parsley

Soak raisins in a little warm water to cover. Set aside. Place pork, eggs, breadcrumbs, and pine nuts in a large bowl. Season with salt and pepper. Set aside. Saute onion in olive oil until very soft. Add to pork mixture. Drain raisins, reserving soaking liquid. Add raisins to pork mixture. Combine pork mixture well and form into golfball-sized meatballs. Heat more olive oil in large heavy skillet or braising pan and brown meatballs in batches. When they are all browned, deglaze skillet with white wine, scraping up all the browned, crispy bits on the bottom of the skillet. Add vinegars and raisin-soaking liquid to wine and season with salt, pepper, and a pinch of sugar if needed to balance the flavors. Reduce by about one third, then return meatballs to pan, cove and cook for about 10-15 minutes until meatballs are cooked throughout. Stir in parsley and serve alone as an appetizer, or with sauteed greens and pasta for an main course.

Posted in Recipes, Shopkeepers, Uncategorized | Tagged , | 5 Comments »

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