Michael Pollan on having a garden

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New York Times

It’s always a good Sunday if Michael Pollan has a piece in the New York Times Magazine:

You quickly learn that you need not be dependent on specialists to provide for yourself — that your body is still good for something and may actually be enlisted in its own support. If the experts are right, if both oil and time are running out, these are skills and habits of mind we’re all very soon going to need. We may also need the food. Could gardens provide it? Well, during World War II, victory gardens supplied as much as 40 percent of the produce Americans ate.

Creecy greens (and roadside produce stands)

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A mess of creecy greens, probably from South Carolina

Creecy greens have a long history in America. They grew wild, and they appeared in late winter, often when there was still snow on the ground. My dad, who grew up in the Blue Ridge Mountains, used to say that after a long winter the mountain people developed a strong hunger for something fresh and green. So when the first creecies appeared, they were a feast.

Around here creecy greens can be bought this time of year from roadside markets. I bought these from a roadside produce stand on U.S. 601 near Mocksville. They were relatively pricey — $1.29 a pound. For comparison, cabbage was 39 cents a pound at the same market. The woman who runs the produce stand said she thinks the creecies came from South Carolina. Creecy greens are of the order brassicales, so they are related to cabbage and mustard.

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Wintered-over cabbage, 39 cents a pound

Speaking of cabbage, the mountains just to the north of here are cabbage country. Carroll County, Virginia, long known for its cabbage, is diversifying into broccoli as well. I have not yet had a chance to try Carroll County broccoli. Though I have had excellent cabbage in California, there is a tendency in California for cabbage to be pale and fluffy. Proper cabbage should have dark green outer leaves, and it should be as dense and hard as a piece of marble (attention, San Francisco Chronicle food department: you need to do a piece on the dignity, selection, and use of cabbage).

There is only one device I’ve ever seen that chops cabbage quickly and easily for coleslaw, and I’ve tried everything, from blenders to food processors to chopping knives to mandolins. The device is the Wear-Ever salad maker. We had one when I was young. Last month my sister found one in the Goodwill Store at Mocksville, and she was kind enough to let me buy it (I think she wanted it, too). It makes fine slaw, fast, without making a mess and without a lot of waste. It’s a very handy thing to have, because the winter diet here calls for cabbage in some form almost every day.

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A Wear-Ever salad maker. They were made in Oakland, California, in the 1950s and 1960s, and maybe earlier for all I know. You might be able to find one on eBay.

The 50-mile rule for local eating is a nice goal (and it might even be possible in a lot of places at some times of year), but for many Americans it’s not workable. I propose as an alternative the 50-year rule: if people in the same place had it 50 years ago, it probably makes economic sense to have it now. I’m no expert on the history of this, but having lived in these parts 50 years ago, it’s clear that the winter foods that were available then are the cheapest and best winter foods available now. This includes Florida oranges, cabbage (from Virginia?), pintos beans (South Carolina? Georgia? Texas?), onions, and potatoes. Fifty years ago, of course, was before the Interstate highway system. I suspect much of this produce came up U.S. Route 1 and went onward to New York and New England. Locally, it probably came by U.S. 601, which is a spur of U.S. Route 1.

Update, 5:50 p.m.:

The finished winter supper: creecy greens with a sweet-and-sour treatment (vinegar, olive oil, and a touch of turbinado sugar); warmed-over pinto beans (with sliced onion); fresh hot flaxseed pone; and salmon cakes. The salmon cakes certainly violate the 50-mile rule, but they don’t violate the 50-year rule. My mother used to make salmon cakes fairly often from canned salmon. This was a premium brand of wild red sockeye salmon from Whole Foods in a 7.5 ounce can. If you’re shipping food from Alaska, canned is the cheapest, which probably means it takes less energy than fresh or frozen salmon. And I admit it. I like fish burgers. This is a low-carb, high-protein, healthy country supper.

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Creecy greens, pinto beans, flaxseed pone, and salmon cakes from wild sockeye salmon

More on flaxseed pones…

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I’ve made a lot of flaxseed pones in the last couple of weeks, and I’ve learned from my mistakes. Most important: Don’t put too much liquid into the batter. If the batter is too wet and runny, the pone will never finish baking, and the texture will be gooey and disgusting. Keep the batter thick, so that it stands up when you put it into the baking pan. If the batter is so thin that it runs out to the edges of the pan, then the batter is too thin. Don’t worry if the batter mounds up in the baking pan. It will fill out once it starts to rise in the oven. I don’t quite understand the chemistry of this, because the opposite is true of biscuits. For a proper texture, biscuit dough needs to be as moist as possible. But flaxseed pone batter needs to be thick, thick, thick.

A second hint: Though I think there is no nutritional difference between golden flaxseed and brown flaxseed, the golden flaxseed makes a much prettier pone, the same color as corn bread. In fact, if you get your batter recipe right, many casual eaters of flaxseed pone would think they’re eating cornbread. It’s that good, and the texture of the bread is totally agreeable, in spite of the fact that flaxseed meal is much more like psyllium seed meal than corn meal.

Experienced makers of cornbread already know this, but for the newbies: Well-seasoned cast iron skillets are best for making pones. Get the skillet hot in the oven before adding the batter. If you’re making a supper pone, add some finely chopped onions to the skillet when you put the skillet into the oven to preheat. Half butter and half olive oil in the bottom of the skillet, with the onions sizzling during the preheating of the skillet, will make a fine crust for a supper pone. For a breakfast pone, omit the onions. Onions or not, the batter should sizzle when you pour it into the hot skillet.

The late-winter diet here in North Carolina is starting to change a bit. The Florida oranges seem to be getting more expensive and a bit more dry. But some fine turnip greens are showing up in the stores, cheap and fresh. And I still can’t get over how much better the onions are here than they are in California.

Here’s my earlier post on flaxseed pones.

Also, some Californians don’t seem to know what a skillet is (Hi, Clint and Joshua).

Flaxseed: A healthy, low-carb quick bread

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This morning’s flaxseed pone.

I frequently say that, after a certain age, we all should eat like diabetics even if we’re not. Bread is the hardest thing to cut down on. On the glycemic index, whole grain bread is no better than white bread. Cornbread also is no better than white bread. But hot bread is essential with the local winter diet, which revolves around (or revolved around, 50 years ago, but it’s still the best and cheapest winter food) pinto beans, cabbage in some form, and onions.

For a while I’d meant to experiment with flaxseed meal, having heard of its many virtues. But I had assumed that it would be difficult to work with. One Internet recipe I came across, for example, used five eggs. Why in the world (I thought) would someone put five eggs in a quickbread unless it was nearly impossible to get it to rise. It turns out that the five-egg recipe was just a stupid recipe.

Flaxseed meal will do anything cornmeal will do. A well-beaten egg definitely helps the batter and texture of the bread, but if you leave the egg out and use a bit of unbleached white flour, the flaxseed bread will rise just fine. I don’t use recipes for quickbreads, nor do you need one if you’re accustomed to making cornbread. The basic ingredients for flaxseed bread are flaxseed meal, a small amount of unbleached white flour, baking powder, and buttermilk. If you substitute flaxseed meal one-for-one for cornmeal in your favorite cornbread recipe, you’ll probably be fine.

The virtues of flaxseed meal are incredible. It’s low carb, high-protein, and low on the glycemic index. Plus, flaxseed is the richest vegetable source of omega-3 oil, almost as rich as fish oil. Flaxseed meal also has the same virtue as psyllium seed.

I’m getting rid of cornmeal and switching to flaxseed meal.

This link is for the Californians who don’t know what a pone is. And by the way, East Coast onions are better than California onions. I haven’t yet figured out why. Georgia?