Tag Archives: Farmers’ market

(Don’t Fear) The Pepper…or Salt

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I hate when you order something that looks delicious, only to take a bite and find that the chef under seasoned it.

Case in point: I went to the farmer’s market earlier today. Part of the fun is in stocking up on fresh produce, and I definitely came away with my share. Apples, cherry tomatoes, carrots, cucumbers, and fresh dill. But it’s also an excuse to grab lunch on the go, and the Portland Farmer’s Market has no shortage of vendors serving great food there. Salvador Molly’s, Pine State Biscuits, and C’est Si Bon all serve wonderful meals. I like to try new things though, and today a Mexican place called Verde Cocina caught my eye. They were selling Huevos Rancheros, Chilaquiles, and Gringas. Their menu describes these as:

Gringas are soft, rolled tacos made from our handmade corn tortillas, spread with garbanzo-white bean mash, filled with either fresh local pork or fresh local veggies. They are covered with our signature housemade molé sauce, and served with whole beans and a mountain of veggies.

Sounded too good to pass up, so I opted for the pork version, which cost me $9 (ouch – that’s more than any of the other aforementioned vendors charges for lunch, but I was in a generous mood and the aroma from the freshly grilled sweet onions beckoned to me). They handed me my plate, and it was piled high with a colorful, appealing mound of fresh vegetables smothered in a thick, brick-red sauce. Yum, right?!

Not so much.

Dude. We rock! Food needs us!!

I found a spot to sit, eagerly dug in with my fork, and was dismayed to find the food bland and largely flavorless. This sucked because A) It wasn’t cheap, and B) There were plenty of other options available with proven track records. But what could I do at that point? Maybe if I’d been in a restaurant I’d have sent the meal back, but I had already wandered away from the booth and there was a long line of patrons waiting to order there anyway. It’s not that the food was bad…but it positively screamed out for salt and pepper. One of my biggest pet peeves is people who are afraid to season their food. A little salt and pepper goes a long way toward bringing out the flavors in a dish! I know I’m not alone in this way of thinking. I watch a lot of cooking shows, and the judges always gives chefs a hard time for under seasoning their dishes. It’s a cardinal sin! My meal would have been so much better with a sprinkling of both. You know how some people carry around flasks filled with the booze of their alcoholic choice? I’m tempted to start packing a flask full of salt, and another filled with pepper. And if that insults the sensibilities of the cook who prepared the dish, they can bite me since they have no business serving me something that lacks flavor in the first place!

I should’ve known better. This place was all hey, we have vegan dishes and our meals are all gluten-free!! Then again, that describes the majority of Portland restaurants, so it probably wouldn’t have done me any good. I ate most of it, and it filled me up. That’s about the best I can say, other than lesson learned. Next time I’m going for the biscuit topped with fried chicken, cheese and gravy. Gluten-free? Nope. Healthy? Not a chance. But you can bet your ass it tastes good!

/Seasoning rant.

Afterwards, I wandered around downtown Portland for an hour, just walking and enjoying what may be the last warm weekend day of the year. OK, “enjoying” is too strong a word because it was too hot for my blood and also humid, but the weatherman is calling for rain the next few days so I won’t complain too bitterly. Besides, today is only the 2nd day of autumn. I had no destination in mind; I just wanted to wander the streets, taking in the sights and sounds. That’s the great thing about P-Town; you’re guaranteed to spot something out of the ordinary, every time. Today it was a homeless man asleep in a doorway who demonstrated terrible fashion sense by wearing mismatched shoes: one was black and the other, white. Tsk-tsk. A little coordination next time please, buddy! I also spied a man in a white mariachi suit blowing a horn on a spare corner for change, another man yelling at everybody to Repent Now because The End Is Near but don’t worry, Jesus Loves You. This was topped off with a bunch of new solar-powered trash compactors lining the streets. I’m telling you, this was all a veritable smorgasbord of Portlandia.

Properly seasoned, of course.

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I Have No Beef With Cows

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Yesterday was National Cow Appreciation Day. I would not have known this if Tillamook Cheese hadn’t been so kind as to remind me in an e-mail that morning. I’ve got no beef with cows – I love ‘em, in fact! – and I figured the best way to appreciate them would be to not eat them that day. At the grocery store, I picked up a nice cod filet and decided to make fish tacos. I was very moo-ved by this whole dedication to our bovine friends, and felt quite committed to keeping them off my plate for one day. Naturally, I updated my Twitter/Facebook accounts to wish everybody a happy Cow Appreciation Day and to let them know about my meatless dinner plans.

My friend Laurie brought up a good point, though. She responded to my Facebook post, I don’t get it? Isn’t the best way to appreciate a cow to savor the flavor?

I had to admit, I was suddenly flummoxed. The logic behind Laurie’s reasoning seemed sound. In order to clear up my confusion, I turned to the internet for the answers. According to holidayinsights.com, Cow Appreciation Day should be celebrated thusly:

Our appreciation for cows can be expressed in many ways. Some websites suggest you go out and give a cow a big hug and/or a kiss. While it might sound like fun, you don’t have to go to extremes to enjoy this special day. It can be as simple as pausing for a moment to think about cows, and all that they do for us.

Not having a cow handy for hugging purposes, I figured I was right on in keeping my evening beef-free. But then Laurie – she’s got a quick wit, that one – said, in response to the above quote, Maybe you could kiss a burger and thank The Grand Bovine in the Sky for providing such a juicy and delicious dinner for you. Had I read the holiday website further, I might have done so, because it went on to say,

Now that we’ve had our moment of silence, it’s time to celebrate. Have an ice cold glass of milk. Add chocolate syrup, if you prefer. Then, fire up the grill, and cook some burgers or a steak. And, don’t forget to get your fill of cheese. Sorry, goat cheese is not allowed today.

Clearly, I had taken the wrong approach to Cow Appreciation Day! But the fish was fresh and the accompanying creamy lime/chile sauce had already been prepared, so I went ahead with my taco plan. They were good, too! No complaints. I figured I would appreciate cows the next day instead.

Making crepes at C'est Si Bon.

Saturday morning dawned cool and wet. I would have sworn it was early October had the calendar not been stuck on July. I grabbed rain gear (seriously?) and headed downtown to do some shopping at the Portland Farmer’s Market at PSU. Having been limited to asparagus during my last two visits to a farmer’s market, I was thrilled this time to see a wide assortment of fresh fruits and vegetables. Though it may not feel like it, summer is finally in full swing around here. I found a parking meter, and had ninety minutes to visit the market, which is less time than you might think given the fact that a) it was many blocks away (a good ten-minute walk…oops, should have searched for a closer spot), and b) the market is huge. First I made a circuit, stopping to browse and try many free samples while planning what to buy. Then, since it was lunchtime, I stopped at a booth selling French crepes. Called C’est Si Bon, they offered a selection of both sweet and savory crepes. Tough decision – they all sounded good! – but I was in the mood for lunch instead of breakfast, so I chose from the savory side of the menu. I opted for a pork confit crepe: it was stuffed with slow-roasted pork, caramelized onions, apple butter, and organic herb salad. Oh. My. God. Delicious!! I later learned that Bon Appetit Magazine ranked the Top 10 Farmer’s Market Lunches and the Portland Farmer’s Market made the cut…and, in fact, they specifically mentioned the crepes at C’est Si Bon. I chose wisely!

Savory pork confit crepe. Heaven on a plate.

After devouring my crepe, I went back through the market and filled my ecologically sensible canvas tote (it’s Portland, after all) with Rainier cherries, green beans, cherry tomatoes, blueberries, a wedge of handcrafted artisan cheese, and a dozen farm-fresh, organic, free-range eggs (go, me!). I’ve never tried fresh eggs from a farm, but my brother swears they are nothing like the kind you find in the grocery store, so I figured the steep price ($6.00) would be worth it. They’re a fun mixture of colors, mostly brown and beige. Can’t wait to try them for breakfast! Time was running out, so I hurried back to my car, making it with three minutes to spare. Whew! From there, I stopped at Gartner’s Country Meats, a local meat market that I’ve been going to for about fifteen years now. By meat market, I mean butcher shop and retail purveyor of beef, pork and chicken, not a seedy, dimly-lit bar where men hurl vapid come-on lines to bored-looking, curvy women. It’s a very well-known (read: packed to the rafters) place where you have to take a number for service. I was 98, they were on 67, which is about par for the course. Totally worth the twenty-minute wait, though, as I came home with a marvelous-looking ribeye steak that will truly show my appreciation for cows, especially when it’s plopped on the grill tonight and cooked to medium-rare perfection. I also grabbed some pepper bacon and garlic smoked bratwurst. I hardly ever get to Gartner’s anymore – it’s been about a year – so when I do go, I try to buy several different meats.

I have really been “getting my Portland on” these past few days, and loving it! The rest of the afternoon will be spent on my back patio, magazine in hand, records playing, cold drink by my side. My kind of Saturday!

Real Apples Have Bruises

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I love farmer’s markets.

Can’t get enough of them.  Seriously.  There’s something about seeing all that fresh produce out on display that gets my heart pumping.  I’m not even sure why.  It’s all organic (naturally), which means, the apples have bruises, the pears are splotchy, and the carrots sometimes resemble the gnarled, warty fingers of witches.  (Happy Halloween, by the way).  If I want pretty-looking produce – perfectly round and shiny fruit, all lined up in neat rows – I’ll go to the grocery store.  But like supermodels, there is such a thing as being too good-looking.  I like my fruits and vegetables to have flaws.  Those waxy-sheened apples in Safeway remind me of actors who have gone in for a little cosmetic surgery.  Their flesh would never be that smooth and supple otherwise.

I think the biggest draw is that everything there is locally grown – I’m a firm believer in helping to support the local economy, which is why I only buy Tillamook cheese even though it’s more expensive than, say, Kraft – and fresh.  Chances are, that tomato you are buying at the farmer’s market today was still attached to a vine yesterday.  Everything is picked at the peak of flavor, and tastes about a thousand times better.

Plus, there’s more to farmer’s markets than just fruits ‘n veggies.  There are stands selling a variety of hot foods and coffee.  My local farmer’s market has a booth featuring miniature hot doughnuts that are, seriously, to die for.  OK, not seriously seriously.  But they’re really good.  You can often find arts and crafts, and entertainment.  Farmer’s markets aren’t a side trip or a detour – they are a destination.

The South Park Blocks showing off their autumn colors.

Which is why, although yesterday was the epitome of a dreary autumn day – rainy, foggy, and chilly – I drove into Portland to pay a visit to the downtown farmer’s market in the South Park Blocks at PSU. I’d spent enough time sitting around the house last week (when I wasn’t shuttling kids back and forth, that is), and was more than a little anxious to get outside and do something.  I’d heard that the market in autumn – and especially right around Halloween – was a unique experience.  Their website was advertising a Great Pumpkin Event and live entertainment from a band called 3 Leg Torso.  I don’t know which was the bigger draw, the pumpkin-carving contest or the crazily-named band, but I headed down there to check out both.

When I arrived in the South Park Blocks – a beautiful urban oasis in the heart of downtown Portland – I found that the abundant trees were in full-on fall foliage mode.  Lots of yellow leaves, some reds, and great piles of newly-fallen leaves carpeting the ground.  A steady rain was falling, leaves were swirling to the ground, and the whole scene looked like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting.  Picture perfect.  I donned my newly-acquired “dad jacket” to ward off the wet chill, and walked to the market.

Who wouldn't want to walk this path, rain be damned?

I have to admit, I was unduly harsh on this jacket, because you know what?  It kept me perfectly warm and toasty, and it’s also totally water-repellent – the rain would bead up on the jacket (kind of like water droplets on a freshly-waxed car) and then drip harmlessly to the ground, leaving the jacket itself oddly dry.  Could the Tony Hawk have done that?  Oh, I doubt it!  Guess I made the smart purchase, after all.

The market was a bustle of activity, and filled with colorful fall produce.  Lots of pumpkins and squash.  Multitudes of apples and pears.  Carrots, potatoes, and kale.  Earthy mushrooms.  There was even a woman roasting chestnuts over an open fire (which, regretfully, I did not try – I’ve never had a roasted chestnut before; but now I have an excuse to come back closer to Christmastime).  3 Leg Torso was rockin’ out on stage, kids and adults were carving pumpkins beneath a tent, and the air was filled with the competing scents of hot coffee, bubbling soup, and grilled sausages.  I bought some apples and pears and a container of soup to make at home (because the free sample was out-of-this-world delicious, although I have a feeling that may have been because the weather was cold and wet and that little cup of hot soup hit the spot like nobody’s business).  It was lunchtime, and I was hungry, so I got an artichoke and cojita cheese tamale from Salvador Molly’s booth.  I’d always wanted to try their food, because Adam Richman took on their “Great Balls Of Fire” spicy fritters challenge when Man V. Food visited Portland last year, and let’s face it, Adam is awesome.  I ducked beneath one of the PSU buildings to dodge the rain and dove into my tamale, which turned out to be – hands down – the best tamale I have ever eaten.  Oh man, it was good.

This is what the Portland Farmer's Market looks like right before Halloween.

A friend of mine, upon learning of my fondness for farmer’s markets, challenged me once to pick up all the ingredients for dinner there sometime.  I could only eat food that I had purchased at the farmer’s market that day.  I loved the idea, and decided on a whim to go ahead and meet this challenge head-on yesterday.  Fortunately, there are several vendors who sell locally-raised meats, so it wasn’t too difficult to come up with a plan.  I chose a farm-raised New York strip steak first, and worked around that.  Dinner last night?  I started with an appetizer of sliced red pear and havarti cheese with chives.  The main course was the aforementioned steak (grilled to medium-rare perfection), topped with sauteed chanterelle mushrooms, and a side of roasted rainbow-colored fingerling potatoes.  Everything purchased from the market hours before.  It was a fresh and delicious meal.

Mission accomplished, Myrl.

After the market, I walked around Portland for a bit.  It’s such a friendly, funky, and eminently walkable city.  Growing up, my dad was in the Air Force, and we moved around all the time, so I never had anyplace to call “home.”  I’ve lived in the Portland area for almost 16 years now (next month marks that anniversary), far longer than I’ve ever resided anyplace else in my life.  Without a doubt, Portland is home.

All too soon, it was time to come “home” home.

On the drive back, I thought to myself, I definitely want more days like the one I’d just had.

A little rain never deters true Portlanders.

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