A foodified quandary

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A Walmart avocado

When I lived in San Francisco, shopping at Walmart was unthinkable. All big box stores (or book stores) were scorned for a number of reasons, not least for what has happened to small, neighborhood merchants. But it also was easy to not shop at Walmart in San Francisco. I’d have had to drive way out into the suburbs to get to one, and there were so many other alternatives in the city. Heck, one day when I was in line at Borders book store on Union Square in San Francisco, Armistead Maupin was in the checkout line in front of me. It’s a fair question, and I don’t claim to have an answer: How far should we go to support local businesses when a big business has something better, for cheaper?

If we pay more for something when we could have gotten the same thing cheaper at Walmart, we’re basically making a donation to a business. Is that the best form of charity? I have my doubts.

In any case, here in the rural South, everything is different. There aren’t so many choices. And we don’t have big-city incomes to spend in better stores, even if there were lots of better stores. So I don’t know.

This winter I’ve bought avocados at Walmart, for $.99 to $1.08 each. Every one of them has been good and has ripened beautifully. Should I pay $2.39 each for avocados at a grocery store, half of which rot before they ripen or are stringy and dry?

I buy at Walmart only those things that seriously beat the competition. For another example, Walmart has the best deal in organic, unsweetened soy milk. That’s the best accommodation I’ve been able to come up with so far.

Beet curry

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I paced in circles in the kitchen this evening, trying to figure out what I wanted for supper. Something over rice seemed appealing. I knew that I needed a heavy dose of garlic to try to fend off the cold I’m afraid I picked up on a trip to town last night. And I had some fresh beets from Whole Foods that needed to be used. So I made something up: beet curry. I didn’t Google for beet curry until after supper. It’s not unheard of, but I don’t think it’s common. But anything will curry.

I used a whole head of garlic. I blanched some almonds and chopped them a little in the blender so they’d soak up more flavor. I added tomato paste to thicken the sauce and deepen the red. I served it over Uncle Ben’s rice. Now, before you go and say something snobbish about Uncle Ben’s, keep in mind that it may have been Julia Child’s favorite rice. She called it “L’oncle Ben’s.” Uncle Ben’s is just parboiled rice. It also has a lower glycemic index than most rices.

Believe it or not, it was delicious. I already knew that beets like spices, and garlic, and tomatoes. You’d be surprised how good beets are when added to spaghetti sauce. Just dice the beets and add them to your regular spaghetti sauce, and simmer until the beets are tender. I realized while eating the beet curry that beets probably would like roasted peanuts. That will be a future experiment: coming up with something that includes beets, tomato sauce, garlic, and roasted peanuts or peanut butter. Some sort of lasagna, maybe?

From the red splatter in the kitchen you’d think I’d murdered a chicken, indoors. But this was a totally vegan dish.

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Beets, almonds, minced garlic

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Sautéing the almonds with the curry spices

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Turnip greens

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The grocery store in Walnut Cove had turnip greens this week for $1.29 a bunch. As Michael Pollan says, eat more leaves. Especially at a good price.

By the way, what you see on the countertop is what we around here would call a mess of greens. When I was in elementary school, a teacher once derided one of the children for saying “a mess of greens.” The teacher said that that was not proper. How sad. It is perfectly proper, but it does mark one’s dialect as Appalachian English. I have previously written about stigmatized dialects.

The Oxford English Dictionary gives an example of this usage from 1503: “You have very good strawberies at your gardayne in Holberne. I require you let us have a messe of them.”

Mess means a portion of food sufficient to make a dish. As I understood the term growing up, it particularly meant a portion of food brought from the garden. I never heard anyone talk about a mess of bacon.

Coffee substitutes

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I’m amazed how easy it was to give up coffee. I decided that the caffeine couldn’t possibly be doing me any good. And besides, when one no longer has to go to work each morning, the caffeine kick really isn’t necessary. For years I was very San Francisco-ized in my taste in coffee. I drank it only in the morning, but I liked it rich and strong.

I’ve been using a brand of coffee substitute that I got at Whole Foods. It’s made from roasted barley with chicory. When you drink the first cup of it, you certainly know it isn’t coffee. But by the third cup, adaptation happens.

With coffee, color is everything. The color of the Roma coffee substitute, before cream and after, is the same as coffee. I am unable to achieve the proper color with soybean milk (it produces an awful gray color), so I’ve gone back to buying half and half, which gives that wonderful golden brown.

Another wonderful thing about being retired: There is no longer any temptation to eat and drink on the run, or at a desk, or in front of the TV. I always sit down at the table.

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Fried apples

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Fried apples are a Southern standby. The grocery store apples have been good, and cheap, this winter. When the choices are poor in the produce department, those apples start looking more and more like a winter vegetable, which is not how we usually think of them.

Slice them fairly thin and cook them gently in a tablespoon of butter. Some people prefer them plain. I like them with a little raw sugar and cinnamon.

Quiche

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I wonder why quiche is belittled as a food for wimps. Quiche actually is a very rich food. And, like apple pie and pizza, it’s a pie. But quiche can be a huge fat, cholesterol, and sodium bomb.

Even though my chickens have made me egg rich, I had not made a quiche in ages until today. It’s not so much the eggs I fret about, it’s the milk and cheese. As I’m sure I’ve mentioned before, the milk and cheese that is easily available around here is of very poor quality, from cows pumped full of hormones and antibiotics. I do buy organic butter. I gave up half and half when I quit drinking coffee. And I sometimes buy organic yogurt. But I never buy milk and cheese.

So, how might one make quiche?

Whole Foods carries some imitation cheeses that are based on almonds. The mozzarella version melts, the package promises. And there’s always soy milk. Just be sure to buy the organic soy milk that contains nothing but soybeans and water. The flavored and sweetened soy milk is full of sugar carbs, and of course you wouldn’t want vanilla in a quiche.

I used the same quiche recipe I’ve been using for 30 years. It’s based on 3 eggs and 2 cups of milk. To that I added the grated almond cheese, cooked spinach, and lots of garlic.

I used my trusty old basic crust recipe, which has one and quarter cups of flour, a quarter of a cup of olive oil, and three or four tablespoons of soy milk.

The quiche was delicious.

Let’s compute the cholesterol. Three eggs at 235 milligrams of cholesterol per egg equals 705 milligrams of cholesterol in the quiche. At eight slices, that comes to 88 milligrams a slice. Eat two pieces, and that’s 176 milligrams, well below your daily allowance of 300 milligrams.

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That’s a whole clove of chopped garlic on top of the spinach.

Country-fried chow mein

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Frankly, I’m pretty bad at cooking Chinese food. I often wonder if one doesn’t need to be born Chinese to do it properly. But, if you’ve got a pile of home-grown mung bean sprouts, what are you gonna do?

It’s the noodles that make the chow mein. I have no idea where one might get proper chow mein noodles around here. But whole wheat linguini will do in a pinch. After the linguini has been cooked, brown the noodles lightly in an oiled pan and add some soy sauce, then add the vegetables and stir-fry.

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You do make your own sprouts, don’t you?

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Mushrooms, onions, garlic, and celery — easy winter vegetables

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You know you like ’em fried.

'Lassy cookies

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I guess there’s no such thing as truly healthy sweets. But one can at least do what one can to minimize the damage. I did a Google search for “vegan molasses cookies” and modified a recipe I found. The cookies I made this evening were made with olive oil, raw sugar, King Arthur whole wheat flour, and blackstrap molasses. They were very chewy and very good. There was no reason to miss having butter and eggs in the recipe. It took only five minutes to stir them up and get them ready to pop into the oven.

Blackstrap molasses may be hard to find in some places, but not around here. Molasses-making, like making apple butter, was an art often practiced in the Blue Ridge Mountains. They used outdoor vats heated by wood fires.

That English teacup, by the way, came from an antique shop in Walnut Cove. I paid $5 for it. Coffee, it seems to me, is best drunk from a truck driver mug made of heavy china. But tea wants to be drunk from a cup and saucer.

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The hens won't quit

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My best layer

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December 16: 3 eggs

My four hens have barely slowed down for the winter. I’m still getting three and sometimes four eggs a day, faster than I can give them away, since I try to limit myself to eating four eggs a week.

I have one Golden Comet hen and three Barred Rock hens. I can recognize my Golden Comet hen’s eggs because they’re darker brown. She has not missed a day since she first started laying in August. She’s also the sweetest and most sociable of the chickens.

I am not giving my hens any artificial light or artificial heat. I’ve bought the apparatus to do it if they seem stressed by the cold, but so far they seem fine. These chickens are said to be hardy enough for New England winters. Their little house is snug and filled with hay. I also put hay on the ground underneath the chicken house to help keep their little feet off the cold ground. The chickens do seem to be eating more in cold weather. They always have laying mash available, and I take them some kind of treats every day — vegetable scraps from the kitchen, leftover gravy mixed with cracked wheat, and sometimes sprouted legumes. Nothing goes to waste in the kitchen. Every day I also give them alfalfa pellets that I got at the seed and feed store. The pellets contain nothing but ground, compressed alfalfa and cost $16 for 50 pounds. That was the best winter source of chlorophyll that I was able to come up with. I keep ground oyster shells on hand. I also have a big bag of flax seed. I try to vary their diet as much as possible, not only for their health, but for their entertainment. Treat time is the high spot of their day.

One thing I’ve noticed about my chickens. When they were maturing and approaching laying age, they spatted fairly often. Now I never see one chicken being mean to another chicken. I assume this means that they’ve worked out the pecking order, and now they just enjoy each other’s company. If I take them particularly exciting treats (they love leftover pasta — they probably think it’s worms) one chicken may grab the treat and run, but they don’t spat.