: Now is the season of our baking. –>

Rake in the flavors of fall with comfort-food cookbooks

By Ruth Tobias

So long, peaches and berries. See you later, heirloom tomatoes and corn. Goodbye, watermelon. We’ll miss you all–but you can bet we’ll be finding some measure of comfort in more filling fare. That goes doubly for avid cooks who are keen to exchange the outdoor grill for the kitchen, preparing the likes of casseroles, cobblers and stews for a rain-boot-stomping, steam-exhaling crowd. As it happens, a slew of new cookbooks devoted to just such a scenario is here to welcome them back inside. The following are especially good fun.

‘Autumn from the Heart of the Home,’ by Susan Branch (Little, Brown and Company; $25.95) Boasting a homemade-scrapbook design–all gingham and cursive script and snippets of wisdom–this supersweet little cookbook also contains just enough quirks to keep it from getting sticky. Cynics and urbanites should skip the prefatory chapter on handicrafts (with instructions for making your own place settings, gift baskets and so on) and get straight to the recipes. They’re more sophisticated than you might expect under the circumstances, striking a balance between thoughtful takes on historical or regional specialties and sure-fire dinner-party material.

Think steamers, Indian shuck (corn) bread with maple butter, scallop chowder and eggnog cappuccino; imagine butternut soup served in shot glasses and new potatoes stuffed with fontina. And there’s no one so jaded that he or she can’t be charmed by the idea of a trinket-filled fortune cake or real hot chocolate with marshmallows made from scratch. Indeed, a taste of mellowness is exactly what autumn at its best provides.

‘You’re Cookin’ It Country: My Favorite Recipes and Memories,’ by Loretta Lynn (Rutledge Hill Press; $24.99) If Branch straddles the picket fence of nostalgia, Loretta Lynn (yes, that Loretta Lynn), not surprisingly, hurdles way over the top to wallow in boisterous, mostly endearing kitsch. In the preface, Lynn reminisces about the poor old, good old days when “we ate anything and everything we could find in Butcher Holler, Kentucky” (including possum), something she goes on to prove with recipes that (a) sound ridiculous, (b) are ridiculous, (c) are ridiculously easy and (d) are the utmost in guilty pleasure (possum excepted).

Laden with ingredients like Crisco, Velveeta, Saltines and Cool Whip, these dishes are bound to blast away the impending winter blues with a barrage of carbs and fat grams. For instance, after breakfasting on enormous “cat-head” biscuits smothered in chocolate gravy, you could opt for a lunch of vegetable soup and tossed salad, the primary ingredients are ground beef and bacon, respectively. Dinner might be chicken and dumplings, or chicken-fried steak and gravy, or maybe fried country ham and red-eye gravy, paired with any of several “country-fried” sides (including corn, creamed corn and corn fritters).

For dessert you’ve got your “gooey cake,” made with nothing but the best: German-chocolate-cake mix from a box, sweetened condensed milk from a can, caramel topping from a jar, whipped topping from a tub and crushed Heath Bars. Of course, if you need a little something to tide you over between meals, you could always fry up some pickles or bologna sandwiches–that’s right, fry them. Lynn also peppers the book with family photos and goofy anecdotes with titles like “Loretta Learns to Can.” Rarely has the sheepish phrase “you gotta love it” been so apt.

‘Retro Baking: 100 Classic Contest Winners Updated for Today,’ by Maureen Fischer (Collectors Press; $16.95) Rounding out the retro recipes is this funky, cartoon-colored collection based on the winners of those amateur contests sponsored by women’s magazines, small-town newspapers and companies like Pillsbury and Quaker Oats that have been a hallmark of culinary Americana for decades. Decked out in wink-wink period graphics and space-age fonts, the recipes indeed hark back to a time when novelty products–powdered mixes, canned fillings and so on–were just beginning to replace cooking from scratch; here, fortunately, the latter are restored.

Even so, Fischer’s text is, if not kiddie-level, certainly user-friendly, true to the breezy ease of the originals. Thus–just like the beaming, creamy-skinned, white-apron-and-black-pump-clad housewives in the pictures–you too can present family and friends with an old-fashioned Sunday supper, complete with oven-fresh dinner rolls, biscuit-topped beef casserole and cranberry cobbler for dessert. Or whip up after-school snacks like sugar cookies and spice cake. Or prepare for the holidays with an assortment of cakes and pies: four-layer caramel and devil’s food, lemon and coconut.

You get the pretty picture. There’s nothing here too technically taxing (if you can sift, knead, beat and fold, you’re pretty much set) or too fancy for unfussy taste buds, just basic baked goods done right, with a hint of 21st-century sass.

‘Gratins: Savory and Sweet Recipes from Oven to Table,’ by Tina Salter (Ten Speed Press; $18.95) As long as you’ve got the oven on, we suggest you check out this charming homage to the one-pot dish known as a gratin. As the author notes in the introduction, for all their homey dishevelment, gratins–or “baked dishes with a rich creamy interior and a crisp, golden topping”–possess a rather elegant bearing, such that “in France . . . the aristocracy is often referred to as le gratin, much as we would talk about the ‘upper crust.'”

Salter’s inventive, sophisticated recipes uphold that reputation. Imagine starting a dinner à deux with a sexy surprise like gratinéed figs with prosciutto and chèvre, or posing at a pal’s potluck with a Parmesan-topped polenta-portobello bake. Envision wowing the in-laws come Thanksgiving with a striking mélange of green apples, Yukon golds and sweet potatoes, or giving the boss’ beetle-brows a boost when you serve sesame-seed-crusted salmon steaks, set off by a jade-green herb sauce, at your annual dinner party.

In other words, imagine being fabulous; gratins, granting far more leeway and forgiveness than their carefully constructed culinary counterparts, let you be just that–at least until dinner’s over. (Luckily, you can extend your gastronomic glory through dessert with, say, a peach melba, glowing beneath a crust of almonds and amaretti.)

‘The Taste of the Season: Inspired Recipes for Fall and Winter,’ by Diane Rossen Worthington (Chronicle Books; $24.95) The most broadly conceived of the group, Worthington’s book will hold you day in and day out–from breakfast to dessert, in sickness (hello, chicken soup with matzah balls) and in health, whether the cook in you is feeling ambitious or shiftless, and whether the diner in you harbors a yen for Italian or a hankering for Asian.

For instance, since saying “cinnamon-streusel sour-cream coffee cake” takes nearly as long as making one, the dish may indeed become, as Worthington assures, “your standby for last-minute brunches” (assuming you have the sort of friends who drop by unexpectedly on a weekend morning expecting a home-cooked meal, in which case you’ve got a bigger problem than just choosing the appropriate dish). By contrast, crispy roast duck with lavender-honey sauce requires a certain amount of time and effort–and a dash of seasoned confidence–but the results are worthy of a black-tie gala.

Meanwhile, if your tastes span the globe, you’ll be pleased to find Worthington’s versions of everything from Creole gumbo to the Indonesian fried-rice staple known as nasi goreng, from Tuscan ribollita (the classic bread and cabbage stew on which eggplant puts an intriguing spin) to good old red, white and blue (not literally) chocolate-peanut-butter brownies. The Taste of the Season is a meaty compendium of cold-weather cuisine; what’s more, since it has a companion volume in The Taste of Summer, fans need not fret over finding a worthy complement when the temperatures once again soar. After all–hard as it is to believe now, on the cusp of autumn–they will.

Second Helpings

Themed recipe collections offer additional inspiration for fall menus

Still hungry? Here are a few other choice guides to hearty eats. All are available at www.jessicasbiscuit.com (or Amazon.com, if you must).

Steaks, Chops, Roasts and Ribs, by the editors of Cook’s Illustrated (America’s Test Kitchen; $35) Ever the tireless investigators, Christopher Kimball and company take their cleavers and tenderizers to the gristly subject of meat, prefacing the assiduously tested recipes with a comprehensive guide to the various cuts and their preferred cooking methods.

Grilled Cheese: 50 Recipes to Make You Melt, by Marlena Spieler (Chronicle Books; $16.95) Mouthwatering photos complement highly imaginative recipes from the San Francisco Chronicle‘s adventurous gourmet–think veal scaloppine and pesto-zucchini heroes or Jack quesadillas on pumpkin tortillas.

Crazy for Casseroles: 275 All-American Hot-Dish Classics, by James Villas Taking a regional approach, this 2003 cookbook presents distinctly New England, Northwestern, Deep Southern and other versions of everybody’s favorite anything-goes concoction.

50 Chowders: One-Pot Meals–Clam, Corn and Beyond, by Jasper White Published in 2000, 50 Chowders features White shucking away while adding a touch of the unexpected–abalone here, pheasant there.

–R.T.

From the October 20-26, 2004 issue of the North Bay Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

: Tierra Farms in Healdsburg specializes in fiery chipotles. –>

Fall foods from Harvest Fair to harvest table

By Heather Irwin

Tiny ants swarm the stage in waves. Unconcerned by yellow caution tape, they march straight for titanic cinnamon buns, boldly carrying off bits of buttery frosting and yeasty crumbs. There is every reason to believe that they may soon attack the chocolate chip cookies and leave no bit of fudge un-nibbled. Regardless of blue-ribbon status or Best of Show trophies, the sweets succumb one by one to the insect soldiers. Toothily carved pumpkins sit idly by, pondering their own fate.

Wandering around the Food and Crafts building at the recent Sonoma County Harvest Fair, there is no mistaking this event as the official opening to the season of bounty in the North Bay–for both man and, er, insect. The air is suddenly crisp; fruits and vegetables arrive in truckloads from the field, making their way into award-winning preserves and the slightly droopy food displays that the ants are now ravaging. Carmel apples and pumpkins are suddenly everywhere, and suckling pigs, it seems, really have learned how to fly. Or at least run around a sawdust track really, really fast. And honestly, who wouldn’t shake a haunch at the prospect of a plate full of melted frozen yogurt and Oreos at the end of a hard run?

But with a borrowed John Deere baseball cap on my head and a Willie Bird turkey leg firmly in my hand, I can’t help but notice how October’s Fair is a vastly more sober creature than its summer-time cousin. The rides are fewer, the music less thumping and the animals (most notably the turkeys) are all looking a little more nervous. Scarecrows, pumpkins and dried cornstalks bode finality instead of the boundless cotton-candy optimism of July.

The crush is nearly over and children, now in jackets and long sleeves, take turns savagely stomping grapes under purple-stained toes to a pulpy demise. Pumpkins weighing 600 pounds or more brutishly upstage summer’s fading tomatoes and zucchinis, though admittedly, the preponderance of bad Chinese food and garlic fries adds an air of continuity.

A wide-eyed newcomer to Sonoma County at harvest time, I’m thrilled by this season of plenty. I love the truckloads of grapes nearly running me off Highway 101 every morning. I love getting box after box of figs from our friends (no, I really do). And of course, I adore the sweet smell of manure on a fall day. Ahhhhh . . . This newly-minted country girl with her newly-minted cowboy hat and unbroken-in boots is finally going to be at one with the land from which fall’s bounty comes–and leave the damned kitten heels at home.

I’ll note, however, that the concept of appropriate farmwear hadn’t yet occurred to me when attending a recent harvest dinner at the popular Tierra Farms stand (Highway 101 and Airport Road, Santa Rosa, 707.573.1700). The outdoor dinner celebrated the season’s bounty and served as a regional confab for the local chapters of the slow food movement to discuss the currently abysmal state of agribusiness (among other things). Agribusiness, eco-activism, whatever–if Dry Creek Kitchen’s Mateo Granados is cooking, I’m there. Unfortunately, I didn’t quite get the memo that the dinner was, well, literally in the field, as in sitting among the veggies on straw bales–jeans, T-shirts and comfortable shoes strongly suggested.

Sweating it out in my heels and black slacks, however, it took exactly five minutes for me to become one of the night’s most enthusiastic converts of the back-to-the-land, sustainable-farming philosophy of Tierra’s brother-and-sister team Lee and Wayne James.

It becomes apparent very quickly that the James’ little farm stand off Airport Road isn’t about being cute or organically hip. It is about walking the walk and talking the talk of creating fruits and vegetables that are delicious, ecological, regional and socially conscious, no matter what. And, as it turns out, that’s a mighty tall order.

Their farm is only a few acres on land rented from the county. Surrounded by housing developments and the nearby freeway to the west, the farm’s staff comprises the Jameses, an earnest young intern who gave up life in the city to live on their farm and a small handful of seasonal farm workers who help Wayne with the really gritty day-to-day laboring.

On a blazing hot evening, standing barefoot amid the rows of chiles and beans, Wayne explains to a virtual who’s who of slow foodies his unique farming philosophy and practices. Nodding and listening intently in their wide-brimmed straw hats and eco-friendly shoes, the members of his audience arre made up of ferocious advocates of preserving local and regional foods; supporting farmers like Wayne and educating the public about things like genetic modification and the perils of agribusiness and fast food. You don’t want to be caught packing a Burger King wrapper around these folks.

This makes them champions, while at the same time, a little off-putting to those of us who shop at, ahem, Safeway. Not to mention, cough, Costco. Because while natural, sustainable, socially conscious food is, without any argument, better for both humans and the earth, it can get damned pricey. We’ve all had sticker shock at buying $5 organic salad greens or wondering why exactly a plate of free-range, organic, local food at the now-defunct Popina cost something like three times as much as dinner at the Olive Garden.

Realistically, $5 salad greens and $25 entrées aren’t something a lot of the general public can afford day-to-day. In fairness, big farms (without getting into a deep political argument about the admitted dangers of pesticides, animal cruelty, fertilizers and unfair labor practices) do bring down the price of food to a level most of us can afford. Never mind what it tastes like, I want my 99 cent carrots!

But looking at the cracked and weather-worn hands and feet of Wayne as he talks with such absolute passion and earnestness about his quest for his regional, eco-friendly, sustainable, socially conscious produce leaves me wondering if maybe I’m not being a little unreasonable about all of this.

Consider his plight. Every day he and hundreds of other small farmers struggle with things as simple as how to properly market themselves and as complex as water rights and land ownership. He and his sister Lee have taught themselves nearly everything they know about the best ways to fertilize (not always organically) or keep pests away from their crops. And, frankly, they’re barely breaking even. This isn’t a money-making quest, they’re quick to point out. It is a labor of love.

Additionally, the siblings have put thousands of dollars into the rented land
in the form of irrigation, fertilization and other necessary improvements needed to operate their farm. And at this point, Wayne says he may soon lose his water rights and have to negotiate a higher price for water, a price he may not be able to afford. This is the daily stuff that he and so many other farmers have to overcome. And frankly, many of them are just tired of the fight.

Fortunately, Wayne and his sister aren’t giving up that easily. At least not yet. The pair have made a nationally known business selling their Tierra Farms dried chiles and chile products (jams, moles, chipotles) and operate their farm stand five days a week to the delight of their neighbors and local fans. A number of restaurants swear by their produce, despite having to pay higher prices than they would for less conscientious fruits and veggies.

As we line up with our plates in front of Mateo’s home-style cooking, the love and passion put into this food–from seed to table–becomes crystal clear. Each bean, tomato and piece of corn came right from this land. You can see the pride in Wayne’s face as he holds each vegetable tenderly and Mateo’s pleasure at the richness of the produce. The bounty of this farm this fall is more delicious than you could imagine. This food is grown with thought toward the future and respect for agriculture’s past. And that, when you really think about it, is priceless.

From the October 13-19, 2004 issue of the North Bay Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.