“I learned from my two year’s experience that it would cost incredibly little trouble to obtain one’s necessary food even in this latitude; that a man may use as simple a diet as the animals, and yet retain health and strength.  I have made a satisfactory dinner, satisfactory on several accounts, simply off a dish of purslane ( Portulaca oleracea) which I gathered in my cornfield, boiled and salted.  I give the Latin on account of the savouriness of the trivial name.

And pray what more can a reasonable man desire, in peaceful times, in ordinary noons, than a sufficient number of ears of green sweet-corn boiled, with the addition of salt?  Even the little variety which I used was a yielding to the demands of appetite, and not of health.

Yet men have come to such a pass that they frequently starve, not for want of necessaries, but for want of luxuries; and I know a good woman who thinks that her son lost his life because he took drinking water only. The reader will perceive that I am treating the subject rather from an economic than a dietetic point of view, and he will not venture to put my abstemiousness to the test unless he has a well stocked-larder.”

~Henry David Thoreau

Barry Koral, one of the farmers at the Hillcrest Farmers Market in San Diego, and I wax poetically every Sunday as shoppers clamor for his avocados, chermoyas, guavas, sapotes, passion fruit, Persian limes, kumquats, blood oranges, Meyer lemons and local macadamia nuts. Although he is not “certified” organic, he describes everything he does at the farm as “beyond organic.” He is a “fixture” at the market, proclaiming to all who pass by the value of his avocados, the life-giving properties of his figs or the “passion” in his passion fruits.

A few weeks ago, he invited my wife and me to an event at his home and orchard in Vista, a community within San Diego County. It was a live-food celebration with about fifty people in attendance. When we arrived, I immediately sensed that this was a “connected” domicile, reminding me of similar homes where the energy of the residents seem to be “one” with the living cycles of the planet. Barry seemed to take enormous pleasure entertaining his guests with his wit, creative spirit and love of life. It was a marvel to see him work the room and share quality moments with each person in attendance. After he delivered a spirited talk and shared poetry with all of us, the crowd took to the raw food buffet like wheat-grass to a juicer. The food was fresh and vitalizing, and everyone seemed re-energized by the association and community spirit.

Raw Ginger-Beet Salad

6 cups raw beets, peeled and grated

1/2 teaspoon sea salt

2 tablespoons rice vinegar

1 tablespoon lime juice

1 tablespoon fresh ginger juice

1/4 cup sweet onions, minced

Mix all ingredients in a bowl fifteen minutes before serving.

Farmers markets are ideal gathering places within a community, a custom which goes back to the beginning of humanity.  It is a niche where like-minded enthusiasts can gather and accomplish a variety of community goals centered around fresh food, gardening and farming. Farmers markets are becoming more and more popular across the country, especially with sustainable and organic foods (see links).  At the Hillcrest Farmers Market, one of the largest in San Diego, many of the patrons are very active in their community and are at the market to connect with the farmers.

Although the idea of going to local farm markets is an ongoing tradition dated to our ancient origins, this part of the modern food revolution is notable because our society has strayed so far from a local-based economy. The local concept goes well beyond the economic model by getting people to the farms, teaching them how to grow food, how to eat it and, in the process, getting their hands into the soil.  The result is a healthy respect for the land, the food and how it affects our physical, mental and spiritual health, thus helping people understand a natural definition of quality. When a “local” mindset is incorporated into a daily lifestyle, we connect with the planet, food and people in a way rarely experienced in modern urban society.  Like a human version of being “a fish out of water,” we are not in our natural element until we shop, eat and live locally.

With globalization, many of the products and foods which were formerly regional specialties are now in our backyard or at least in a market down the street. Learning about the cultures and traditions connected to these foods allows us to experience them in a similar manner as the original. This is not only aesthetically important, but intertwined on every level with our health. At the Hillcrest Market, there are a number of opportunities to interact with farmers and their land in order to learn and connect. Here are three options in no particular order:

Sage Mountain Farm offers the Inland Empire CSA where one can invest in the land, usually through a weekly fee, and get a share of the organic produce from it. CSA’s are becoming popular across the country and in San Diego, offer a real year round alternative to regular grocery shopping while dealing directly with a farmer.

La Milpa Organica is a 5 acre organic farm near Escondido. Owner Barry Logan is one of the agricultural sages of the Hillcrest Market and he offers student internships to help people learn about organic farming. He also has a CSA and hosts a potluck/open house every third Saturday of the month.

San Diego Roots Sustainable Food Project holds classes is a variety of sustainable practices such as grey water systems and building adobe brick ovens. Their main mission is to help people understand and get involved in sustainable food production. Their mission statement says: “San Diego Roots was formed to strengthen the local food movement in the San Diego region and to create a sustainable urban-rural partnership that brings healthy local food to our communities and sustains the working landscapes and people that feed us.”

So, the next time you are at a Farmers Market, don’t just look at the fruits, vegetables and food products—look to the farmers. By working with them and learning what they have to teach, the degree of separation between you and the land is minimized. The food you prepare and consume will have added meaning, leading to better health and overall well-being.

I have heard many street musicians at farmers markets around the country, some are excellent, others quaint, yet there are a few who seamlessly become a part of the market’s experience and catch its spirit.  At the Hillcrest Farmers Market in San Diego, Santiago Orozeo is one of those “spirited” artists.  He told me that the market is a very important way for people to gather with a common spirit and he has become an important part of the market atmosphere, helping to lift the mood of the shoppers and farmers.  His motto “La vida es musica, el mundo es musica,” which translates into “Life is music, the world is music,”  runs a parallel course to my approach to food.  When he sings, I can feel the vitality and spirit he is breathing into the market, and, with his permission, have used his music as a background for my videos.  To contact Santiago, he is available at santiago.vita@gmail.com.

Quesadillas, as most people know them, are a study in cheese.  A white flour tortilla with a few onions, a sprinkle of jalapeños and perhaps a a few tomatoes, kernels of corn or fresh cilantro held together with oozing melted cheese. As an occasional culinary distraction this may sound good, but it is not something to eat everyday–perhaps something to eat when stranded on an island without anything else.

My Amaranth Quesadillas have provocative flavors and a creamy texture–without the dairy. They make excellent appetizers, party snacks or light meals. I made this recipe for lunch recently after a Hillcrest Farmers Market shopping trip.  All the vegetables I used for the quesadillas were what I had just purchased, fresh and fragrant.  The tortillas I choose are locally-made, par-cooked Mama Cesana Wheat Tortillas.  A quick heat on the grill cooks them up nicely and adds a favorable carbon flavor.  It is possible to do the same grill treatment with pre-cooked tortillas, but only to bring them back to a fresh-cooked state.

Amaranth is considered one of nature’s super-foods and is used in tropical and temperate climates around the world, especially India.  I first experienced it during an early summer trip to Crete as a green called “vleeta,” used by the Greeks in Horta (boiled greens).  The variety commonly used there is a green one.

Similar to buckwheat and quinoa, the Amaranth seed grains are without gluten and have unusually complete proteins. Like spinach, it has a high oxalic acid content Hopi Indians used red color-producing plant as a clothes dye.  If red amaranth is not available, spinach, lacinato kale, lamb’s quarters or mache would work well for this recipe.

Makes 4 quesadillas

Amaranth
1 teaspoon extra virgin olive oil
1 cup sweet onion, diced
1/2 teaspoon garlic, minced
1 bunch red amaranth, large stems removed, chopped (3 cups)
Using a 10 to 12 inch skillet on medium heat, cook oil, onion and garlic until the onions are clear around the edges.  Add the amaranth and cook until the stems are tender.  Reserve.
Peppers
1 teaspoon extra virgin olive oil
1/4 cup sweet onions, finely diced
1 cup green bell peppers, finely diced
1 tablespoon jalapeño peppers, seeded and minced
1/4 teaspoon sea salt
Using a 12 inch skillet on medium heat, cook oil, onions, bell peppers and jalapenos until the onions are clear around the edges. Add sea salt, transfer and reserve.

Pesto
3/4 cup cilantro leaves
2 tablespoons lime juice
1/4 teapoon garlic, minced
1 1/2 tablespoons water
1/2 cup pepitas
1/4 teaspoon sea salt
Place all ingredients in a food processor and blend until a coarse pesto consistency. Reserve.

Salsa

1 teaspoon extra virgin olive oil
1/4 teaspoon garlic, minced
1 tablespoon sweet onion, minced
1 tablespoon jalapeño peppers, seeded and minced
1 cup fresh tomato, finely chopped
1/4 teaspoon sea salt
2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
1/4 cup fresh cilantro leaves, finely chopped
In a small sauce pan on medium heat, cook oil, garlic, onion and jalapeño.  Cook until the onion is turning clear around the edges, then add the tomato, sea salt and vinegar.  Cook for 4 to 5 minutes until tomatoes are cooked, then stir in the cilantro and turn off.  Reserve.
Garnish
1 avocado sliced into small cubes
1/4 teaspoon sea salt

4 whole wheat tortilla flat breads, 10 to 12 inches in diameter
3 tablespoons olive oil
Lay a tortilla on a flat and clean surface and spread 2 tablespoons pesto mixture on one half of the tortilla.  Spread 1/4 cup amaranth mixture evenly on top of the pesto.  Sprinkle 1 1/2 tablespoons pepper mixture evenly across the amaranth.  Fold the tortilla to a half moon shape.  Repeat with three more tortillas. Heat 1 tablespoon oil in a 12 inch skillet on medium heat.  Cook two quesadillas at a time and add more oil as necessary.  Lightly brown on one side and turn over to brown the other side. Transfer to a cutting board and cut into triangles.  Serve with salsa and avocado garnish.

“Iconic cuisine” could describe the food of Bengal. Among their many influential dishes, sweets are perhaps the most famous.  Yet, there are many preparations which have come to shape Indian cuisine as a whole.  Charchari is not merely a single dish, but a cooking style unique to Bengal.  Essentially, vegetables are cooked in a pan and covered without stirring until a close-to-burnt caramelized crust forms on the bottom of the pan, which is stirred in to finish the dish.  Unlike many vegetable dishes in India, spicing is simple, often only turmeric, chillies, salt and hing (onion-like asafetida powder).  The result is a deliciously rich tasting subji (vegetable) which can be used as an appetizer with crackers and bread, or as a show-stopping part of a bigger Indian meal.

One of my favorite cookbooks is The Art of Indian Vegetarian Cooking by Jamuna devi. She is to Indian vegetarian cuisine what Julia Child was to French home-cooked cuisine.  Her book is an easy-to-understand look at Indian kitchens.  It was written a number of years ago and is a timeless must-have resource for those who wish to cook and enjoy Indian food as it is supposed to be.  Jamuna presents a number of charcharis in the book and her description and recipe is excerpted as follows:

“Charcharis are Bengali vegetable dishes that combine three cooking procedures: boiling, steaming and frying.  Though other cuisines of the world use the same procedures, and in a similar sequence, to my knowledge only charcharis are brought to the point of charring.  During the entire procedure, the vegetable is never stirred—not even once! They are succulent vegetables, often rich and served as side dishes, but take little attention while cooking and are really delicious.

The dividing line between the cooking procedures is blurry.  In the first stage, large pieces of vegetable are gently boiled in a seasoned liquid.  Sometimes sugar, tomatoes or lemon juice is added to provide a glaze, flavor or zest in the finished dish.  In the second stage, the vegetables are steamed by the concentrated liquids barely boiling in the bottom of the pan.  Srila Prabhupad described the final stages of cooking: ‘When the liquid is absorbed, there will be a little noise, a hhhzzzz sound, and then, just as the bottom crust browns, turn off the heat and it is done.’ The pan is covered and allowed to sit off the heat for a few minutes, until the crust softens and can be easily folded into the moist vegetables.

Since this final stage of cooking delicately borders on burning, it is important to convey that it should not come to that.  No one wants to serve or eat burned vegetables.  It is essential to use a very heavy, thick bottom pan such as enamel on steel, stainless steel or, better still, non-stick Silverstone on heavy aluminum.  With good non-stick cookware and attention to heat control, perfect charcharis are possible even the first time around.”

Here is a recipe I adapted from Jamuna’s cookbook by mixing it with my own experiences of charchari.  Many years ago I was able to sample some of her cooking and the exquisite flavors of her beautifully crafted dishes have inspired me ever since. I dedicate this recipe to her and the amazing foods that roll out of her kitchen.

Serves 6

2 tablespoons oil

1 teaspoon black mustard seeds

1 tablespoon fresh ginger root, peeled and minced

2 finger hot green chilies, minced

1/4 teaspoon hing (yellow asafoetida powder)

6-8 fresh neem leaves

5 medium Yukon gold potatoes, peeled and cut into one inch cubes

1 medium sized eggplant, cut into one inch cubes

1 2/3 cups water

1 cup spinach leaves, stemmed and coarsely chopped

1/2 teaspoon turmeric powder

1/4 teaspoon lemon zest

1 tablespoon lemon juice

1/2 inch piece of cinnamon stick

3 cloves

1/4 teaspoon fennel seeds, freshly ground

1/4 teaspoon nutmeg, fresh ground

1 1/4 teaspoons sea salt

Heat 2 tablespoons oil in a heavy-bottomed 4 quart pan over moderate heat.  When it is hot, but not smoking, add the black mustard seeds, ginger and chilies and fry until the mustard seeds sputter and turn gray.  Sprinkle in the hing and neem leaves and within 5 seconds, stir in the potatoes, tossing with a wooden spoon for 2 to 3 minutes.

Add the remaining ingredients and bring to a boil.  Reduce heat to low, cover and cook about 30 minutes.  From time to time, check to see if the vegetables are drying up, and adjust the heat or liquid accordingly.  When the vegetables are fork-tender, all of the liquid should be absorbed and the vegetables left sizzling.

Raise the heat to moderately high and fry, without stirring, until a slightly charred crust forms on the bottom of the pan.  Turn off the heat and keep covered for 5 minutes.  Stir the crust into the soft vegetables before serving.

Opportunities arise throughout the year to celebrate.  Some of the biggest challenges a vegetarian host faces is developing a menu which will satisfy everyone–the carnivores and vegetarians alike.  Generally speaking, vegetarians are very easy to please.  They tend to be so food-deprived at parties, that when they attend an event where they can trust everything that is served, they are grateful beyond measure.  Sometimes carnivorous attendees who are new to my cooking decide they aren’t going to like anything.  I often hear cracks like “we stopped at McDonald’s on the way over” or “guess my diet will begin tonight.”  I’m proud to say, I never hear those cracks on the return visits!

With every event, I begin to “meditate” on the menu as soon as I know a party is imminent.  This past Christmas dinner is a perfect example to use in understanding my type of planning.  Because of the type of celebration it was, I looked to “tradition.”  In cooking, this translates into looking at where the dish came from and understanding what the original cook(s) intent was.  Over the years, this historical vision became a passion for provenance and a journey to discover vegetarian traditions in every culture I came in touch with.  The obvious Greek influence which came primarily through my grandmother and my aunt Irene, who were both excellent cooks, gave me a taste for the Mediterranean palate.  In my late teens and early twenties, I had the good fortune to visit and spend time in India, where I learned to cook dishes with ancient stories and also where every ingredient was connected to a healthy result.  All of this influences my menu decisions.  Even life changing events can play a part in menu planning.  My father passed away shortly before Christmas this year.  For me, he was a partner in celebration, always engaging and enjoying family gatherings.  I wanted to prepare a few things he would have enjoyed.

Once my menu and schedule for preparation is set, I prepare a shopping list to ensure I am not sending someone out for ingredients constantly, and then the cooking begins.  I began with the bread baking.  I made two different batches and proofed them together.  The first was a four grain loaf with oats, cracked wheat, quinoa and millet.   The second was a Tuscan baguette with home harvested fennel and corn meal which I sliced and used for a canapé base.

The next preparation was Eggplant bharta canapé.  A traditional Indian fire-roasted eggplant dip to which I added chilles, red amaranth leaves and lime. I served it on the sliced Tuscan baguette discs.

The centerpiece entrée was an Eggplant and Zucchini Parmesan with Cavolo Nero (Lacinato Kale) and an almond ricotta.  I made it the previous morning to allow the flavors to meld and make cooking dinner on Christmas day a simple affair.

The other entrée was Asparagus Strudel and was baked just before serving.  Ten layers of phyllo dough were coated with a red pepper oil and maple syrup mixture and enveloped around fresh asparagus with a caramelized shallot and cashew nut puree.  I served it with roasted red pepper sauce.

On the side, I made some choices that would balance the meal through flavor, texture and visual appeal.

Muli Kofta, traditional Indian gram flour cakes made with grated daikon radish and greens.  Garnished with bundi and sweet pepper relish.

Organic Rigatoni pasta salad with pistachio-lacinato pesto.

Swiss Chard horta, Cretan boiled greens with extra virgin olive oil and lemon dressing.

Fresh tomato salad drizzled with balsamic reduction (see first picture).

To add a sweet finish to the meal, Sara baked my vegan Pecan Tart recipe  (She never cooked before last year, when I had to leave her to help take care of my father.).   The tarts were delicious with the right amount of sweetness and without the fatty finish.  When the meal was over, everyone relaxed, shared gifts and spent the evening in a state of joyful satiation—as my father would have liked.

As I sat at my computer completely lost in cyberspace, I felt a cold nose on my arm.  Our faithful-to-her-stomach German Shorthaired Pointer Tea-Bird, who tells time better than anyone I know, was letting me know it was time for lunch.  She usually begins the ritual with a long stare, moving into heavy sighs and impatient breathing and finally the ”nudge,” making it is clear that I have gone way beyond the acceptable time-frame.  Into the kitchen we go, Tea at my heels, and we confer about what to do.  As I survey the contents of the refrigerator, she takes on the serious task of examining every shelf and together we agree on tofu, onion, carrot, celery, red cabbage, broccoli and red bell pepper. We decided on a stir fry, quick and nourishing.  My wok is in the process of re-seasoning (a 2-day affair) so I break out two 12 inch skillets and a 6 quart sauce pan for the noodles.  I cook the tofu in one skillet, the vegetables in the second and boil water in the sauce pan all at the same time.  The result is a meal-in-one dish finished within 20 minutes.  Everyone is happy, especially Tea-Bird, who can’t get enough of the mugwort Soba noodles!

Tofu Stir Fry with Red Miso Sauce

Serves 6
Tofu

1 1/2 teaspoons organic expeller-pressed canola oil

1 fourteen ounce block medium firm tofu, cut into 2 inch wide by 1/2 inch thick triangles

3 teaspoons tamari

In a 12 inch skillet on medium-high heat, cook the oil and tofu until it starts to brown.  Turn the tofu, cook for 45 seconds to a minute and add the tamari tamari.  Turn down to a simmer and cook four to five minutes until the tamari is absorbed.

Sauce

1 cup miso, Kyoto red (low sodium, unpasteurized)
1/4 cup mirin

2 tablespoons brown rice vinegar
1 1/2 teaspoons toasted sesame oil
1 1/2 tablespoons tamari
2 cups hot water from noodles (see noodles)

Mix sauce ingredients in a bowl and then add to the tofu, allowing it to simmer and thicken for a few minutes.  Turn off heat, cover and reserve.

Vegetables

2 teaspoons canola oil

1 1/2 tablespoons ginger root, peeled and minced

8 cups chopped vegetables: onion, carrot, celery, red cabbage, broccoli and red bell pepper

1 tablespoon tamari

Heat a 12 inch skillet on high heat, add the ginger root and, ten second later, add the vegetables and tamari.  Cook for 10 minutes stirring, turning or flipping until the vegetables have a seared edge and are cooked “al dente.”  Reserve.

Noodles

8 to 10 cups water

1 package Eden Foods mugwort soba noodles

Boil water in the sauce pan and add the entire package of noodles.  Cook for 6 to 7 minutes “al dente,” set aside 2 cups of water for the sauce (see sauce) and drain the noodles.  Toss with the vegetables.  May be served individually in large soup bowls with the tofu-miso sauce on top or, as I did this time, in one large dish with the tofu-miso sauce on top.

Discovering life in earth…
Growing up, I often noticed my father’s dog-eared copy of Rodale’s Encyclopedia of Organic Gardening laying about in handy locations with scraps of paper marking pages.  He was a devoted organic gardener who discovered the earth at the age of 30 and incorporated it into his life from then forward.  The key to his bountiful gardens was soil development.

In the beginning, most of his prospective plots were full of weeds and clay, allowing no drainage. Within a year or two, each garden would become resplendent with vitality, full of color and abounding with supportive wildlife.  Early on, I enjoyed the simple pleasure of plucking herbs, lettuces, tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchini flowers and discovered the tremendous difference it made in the food.

Beyond the surface…

My father saw his gardens as something more than a source of food.  He interacted with them personally and even believed that a weed has the same beauty (and right) as chosen species and used them decoratively throughout his gardens.  Perhaps this was inherited from his mother who scoured the neighborhood every spring for wild dandelion greens and young tender grape leaves.  He encouraged bees, butterflies, frogs and other denizens of the land to join his garden community.  He planted food for foraging animals, such as rabbit and deer, to provide an alternative to his plot without denying their natural hunger.  Over the years, his gardens turned into lush havens and he could often be found admiring the beauty and life of the plants.  Sometimes he would speak to a plant, coaxing it along in a welcoming manner.  Most often he just enjoyed the contrasts in his cultivated spectacle, between light and color or scent and sound. In the last couple of years he was unable to maintain his own garden, but could often be found in my garden, picking weeds and waxing romantically about a flower, bird or flavor.  His legacy continues in my own gardens and my approach to food.  He taught me how to coax life from the earth and those residing upon it.

Top of the soil to you…
Soil development is critical to growing  healthy food.  Decomposition,  side by side with fermentation,  are  how food products change through production of enzymes, thus creating compost.  Living organic soils contain key nutrients and minerals which are passed on to us through the food grown in them.  History has demonstrated time and again when civilizations over-cultivate the land, it becomes depleted of nutrients and results in societal decline.  Over the last 200 years in the USA alone, the average topsoil layer has shrunk from twenty inches to six.  The current rate of depletion is one inch every sixteen years.  At this rate, local production will not be able to sustain the population in a few short decades.  At its own pace, it takes nature 500 years to produce an inch of topsoil.  As long as we maintain methods of growing that strip the land of nutrients, healthy organic food will become an expensive commodity only the select few can afford.

For the love of compost…
Not long after purchasing Inn Season Café, I was able to buy the house across the street from the restaurant.  My parents moved into it to help with the restaurant as well as care for my son.  From the start, my father saw the challenge of a neglected yard and began plotting the gardens.  Excited by the source of nutrients nearby (my restaurant), the first thing he built was a giant compost facility with two side by side bins, each holding four to five yards of soil. Healthy development of soil relies on recycling food products back into the earth, primarily through some form of composting.  There is a direct link between nutrients and how the soil is tended. Consulting his Rodale book, he developed an ideal “recipe” for compost and requested buckets full of kale stems, lettuce trimmings and orange peels.  Soon, his bins were “cooking” and the following spring he began  hand-feeding the garden, turning compost into the soil one shovelful at a time.  The plants quickly responded and soon the ragged yard became a lush paradise resplendent with ever changing colors and plentiful herbs.  Years later, they moved out and I moved in, dismantling the compost bins, spreading them and re-landscaping with defined plots, patio, paths and two ponds.   The soil was so rich it did not matter what I planted, everything grew resplendently.  It was indeed my “secret garden” (see article___).

In loving memory of Spyros Vutetakis

1921 -2009

www.spyrosvutetakis.com