So Sweet and So Cold: This is just to say that different foods find their way into winter’s icebox.

Winter Plates

The hunt for dark-days dinners

By Heather Irwin

It’s cold and dark outside, and I’m suddenly craving cauliflower like I’ve never craved anything before. I must have it at any cost. That very same vile, bedeviled stinkweed of my youth, steamed to a gag-inducing texture and smothered with Velveeta, has just become unbearably alluring. Then again, I’ve always been a sucker for hype.

Cauliflower, it seems, is the “it” vegetable of the winter season, the J.Lo of the cruciferous set. Caramelized, roasted, mashed, au gratin-ed, fried or shacked up with a bowl of creamy macaroni, the albino flower usually relegated to dip trays and bad casseroles is walking the culinary red carpet.

Hawked everywhere from upscale eateries to hip grub stops like Underwood Bar and Bistro (9113 Graton Road, Graton, 707.823.7023) and Willi’s Wine Bar (4404 Old Redwood Hwy., Santa Rosa, 707.526.3096), cauliflower has become almost inescapable on local winter menus. Underwood offers it au gratin ($6), while Willi’s serves it caramelized and carefully disguised amidst cheesy pasta and black truffles ($7.50). Even the beer and buffalo-wing die-hards have adopted the low-carb darling (only about six net carbs per serving). Ruby Tuesday, the Northwest’s suburban strip-mall staple, has incorporated cauliflower into its menu, with a recipe landing in my e-mail in box from well-meaning carbless friends no less than three times in the last month.

So, what’s with all the chou fleur amour?

Mark Twain called it cabbage with a college education. Loaded with antioxidants, fiber and crunch, cauliflower has been embraced by chefs as the side of the season, relegating garlicky mashed potatoes to the back burner and whipping up a side of slightly lumpier mashed cauliflower that many say tastes just as good, if not better, than the tired tubers. Then again, load up anything with enough butter, cream and salt, and it’s bound to gain a following.

Cauliflower’s story is a rags-to-riches tale, truly. Rising up from the steamer, steadfastly denying its former associations with sprayed cheese food and fending off tart vinaigrettes, cauliflower now basks in the warm glow of many a kitchen broiler. No one, however, has thought enough of the shy, unassuming little bouquet to write much about its history, though cauliflower has been cultivated since Roman times. We have little idea how it was prepared until the French brought it to the table in the 17th century–loaded up with butter and cheese, of course.

Though the humble cauliflower has had a cult following among the foodie set for years (that gastronome haven the Daily Gullet has several threads at www.egullet.com devoted to its care, preparation and flavor characteristics, and even Emeril has a recipe for mashed cauliflower), most casual diners are relative newcomers, eyeing it with more than a little curiosity and trepidation. After all, everyone hates an ugly duckling, and the sun-starved, dirt-crusted winter produce face an uphill battle in the looks department.

But while they may admittedly lack the showy curb appeal of their flashier summertime counterparts, there’s something so much more endearing about the nubby, wrinkled, rooty vegetables of winter’s harvest. Maybe it’s because these late-blooming veggies never had their looks to go on. Instead, the homely carrots, chards, onions, yams and rhubarbs have worked on their personalities.

It’s an inner-beauty thing.

Carefully paring cauliflower florets beneath a wet tent, Healdsburg’s Ron Love is just one of a tiny handful of farmers steadfastly sticking out winter at the Santa Rosa farmers market. Without the crowds, the market is a gentler, more contemplative place, laden with rich, thick-veined, hearty kales and collard greens, tender broccoli and, of course, mounds of cauliflower.

Love, who operates Love Farms Organic Produce (15069 Grove St., Healdsburg, 707.695.1632) does a pretty brisk cauliflower business, hawking three varieties at the Wednesday market: the ubiquitous white, a purple and a green variety. He says the purple and green types are milder, less peppery versions of their white cousin that cook a bit faster and bring a surprising bit of color to the table. But he admits that his winter stock is sometimes a little less, er, sexy than the summer fruits and veggies.

“We’re in the dark times,” he says half wistfully, as he pares a few more florets. Not discouraged, he rambles off recipe after recipe for delicious, warming winter foods, such as steamed kale with garlic, roasted cauliflower and so on. But that’s what seasonal eating is all about, and from October through April, tubers and roots rule, with cabbages, beets, cauliflower, broccoli, carrots, early mushrooms, fennel and hearty, leafy greens loving the cold, wet climate.

Don’t be a hater. Because to hibernate through these last few weeks of winter seeking out pallid, unripe fruits and veggies from odd and exotic foreign lands is to pass up some of the richest, most soulful flavors of the year. And would you really be able to respect yourself in the spring?

To get in on the hot, steamy winter action, we sussed out a bevy of amazing goodies hitting peak season right now:

No self-respecting winter soup eschews beans. From navy to kidney, nearly every menu in town features a gut-filling stew or soup that ladles in the legumes. Rancho Gordo‘s new world beans (707.363.0993) are quickly becoming a local favorite, featuring beans native to the Americas (sorry, no lentils).

With many heirloom varieties grown locally, Rancho Gordo owner Steve Santo has branched out to include dried chiles, dried pozole and preservative-free tortillas. Without a storefront of his own, Santo can be found each Sunday morning from 8am to 1:30pm at the Marin County farmers market in the Civic Center parking lot, and several of his bean varieties are available at St. Helena’s Dean and Deluca outlet (607 S. St. Helena Hwy., 707.967.9980). . . .

Zazu (3535 Guerneville Road, Santa Rosa, 707.523.4814) is featuring plenty of Hog Island oysters on its menu (now in season), along with an “Ode to Pork” plate featuring cider-braised pork cheek, apple-jack cabbage and turnip-potato gratin. Along with nine other members of the Artisan Restaurateurs of Sonoma County, Zazu will offer a prix fixe dinner ($29) Sunday through Thursday, starting Feb. 15, as an introduction to their artisan cooking and unique plates. . . .

Though the growing season for many native mushrooms runs through May, black chanterelles are some of the most delicious of the season. But picking whatever spores happen to be growing in the yard might not be such a bright idea. The North Bay has an expert legion of mushroom enthusiasts who foray into the wilds once a month to seek out native ‘shrooms, talk spore prints and cook up what they find. Sonoma County Mycological Association president Mark Todd (who happens to consult on cheese for a living) says the postgathering gatherings are some of the best eating in the county.

The next outing is Saturday, Feb. 21, at Fisk Mill Cove in Salt Point State Park. Go to www.somamushrooms.org for details. And if you don’t pick your own, the Culinary Institute of America (2555 Main St., St. Helena, 707.967.1010) offers mini cooking demonstrations throughout the month, concentrating Feb. 21-24 on the preparation of a potato and mushroom soup with bacon. . . .

At Mom’s Apple Pie (4550 Gravenstein Hwy. N., Sebastapol, 707.823.8330), rhubarb pie is in season. The oft-shunned veggie actually hits its peak right around Valentine’s Day. If you’re new to rhubarb, its cooked consistency is much like celery but with a creamier, intensely tart flavor. Mixed with lots of sugar and baked, the rhubarb becomes tender and juicy, and is less cloying than many other pie fillings. Not ready to commit? Rhubarb (and other flavors like apple) are baked in handy single-dish servings for about $5. Call ahead to see if they have any just out of the oven, and be sure to grab a few extra napkins for your shirt. . . .

From the February 12-18, 2004 issue of the North Bay Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Candy Is Dandy: Some 240 Whitman’s Samplers are sold during the six minutes that the typical American male spends in, um, completion.

Box of Love

The famed Whitman’s Sampler is one solid pound of history

Valentine’s Day, that annual celebration of love, commitment and (hoped-for) Richter-scale sex, has, over the years, become inextricably linked to certain gift-giving traditions. Chief among them are the ritual swapping of heart-shaped paper-lace products, the offering of long-stemmed roses and the presentation of chocolate, chocolate and chocolate. These are customs we have grown fond of, and who can blame us?

Still, one must assume that such extravagances as flowers and chocolate were entirely absent from the thoughts of good St. Valentine on that cold Feb. 14 in Rome, A.D. 270, as the kindhearted priest was being bludgeoned and beheaded, his punishment for conducting illegal wartime weddings in bold defiance of rules set down by Claudius the Goth, the nasty Roman emperor who reportedly believed that matrimony made his warriors weak.

Now, no one knows what poor trembling Valentinus was thinking just then as the executioner’s sword was rudely slicing through his neck (“Hey, you know what would be good right now? Chocolate!“), but he probably could not have imagined that one day we’d all be celebrating that messy moment with Whitman’s Samplers. Yet every year, millions of us do just that.

Prior to Valentine’s life and death, the randy Romans honored the middle of February with a sexy celebration called Lupercalia, a high-spirited, libidinous love-fest involving the sacrificing of stray dogs and goats, the swapping of sexual partners and the gentle whipping of young maidens using romantic strips of bloody goat hide. It was to stop such pagan-pleasing antics that Pope Gelasius in A.D. 495 declared Lupercalia officially “out” and something new called St. Valentine’s Day officially “in.”

While this decision marked a definite upturn in the fortunes of local dogs and goats, it was an even greater boon to the enterprising candy makers of the future. There is no record of Pope Gelasius ever proclaiming “Let the chocolate addictions begin!” yet such endorsement must surely have been implied, because today Valentine’s Day is as tied to the giving of cacao-based confections as the Fourth of July is linked to fireworks.

On Feb. 14, without fail, millions of chocolates, boxed and beribboned and ready for love, will be handed from one sweetheart to another. As our collective calorie-consumption rate rises, every major candy maker in America–See’s, Cadbury, Ghiradelli, Willy Wonka–will vie for a piece of this action, facing off in a competition fierce enough to frighten off Claudius the Goth. By the 14th, our stores are brimming with a shimmering array of attractive, chocolate-packed gift boxes from which we all will have to choose.

And according to the company’s own statistics, most of us choose the Whitman’s Sampler.

Though popular enough year-round in its famous rectangular, stitching-topped incarnation, the Whitman’s Sampler is downright omnipresent come February, when the heart-shaped version makes its annual appearance. Last year, more than 4 million of the specialty samplers were sold, along with several million of the basic yellow box with the little tasting map inside (so you can tell the vanilla butter creams from the molasses chews). While the quality of the chocolates themselves may be no match for the hand-dipped art candies crafted by the new breed of small, boutique chocolate makers, mainstream America couldn’t care less. That yellow box is the clear favorite.

“The one-pound Whitman’s Sampler is the No. 1 selling box in America, and it has been ever since its inception,” proclaims John O’Hara, vice president of marketing for Russell Stover Candies Inc., which now owns Whitman’s. “We’ve figured out that, at the rate they sell today, someone buys a Whitman’s Sampler every 1.5 seconds. This includes all the different types of Whitman’s products, of course–the classic one-pound box, the Valentine heart-shaped box–all of them.”

By this reckoning, in the same time it takes to watch Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, 8,040 Whitman’s Samplers will have changed hands somewhere in the world. Two hundred forty Samplers are sold during the six short minutes (according to Cosmopolitan magazine) that it takes the average American male to reach orgasm during sex, and 1,440,000 Whitman’s Samplers are sold over the average 600 hours the typical person spends engaged in having sex between the ages of 20 and 70. Though 600 hours might not seem like a whole lot of sex for one lifetime, it’s definitely one hell of a lot of chocolate.

The Whitman’s Sampler first appeared in 1912, but Stephen F. Whitman had been putting chocolates in boxes since long before the Civil War. The company was founded in 1842, making Whitman’s the oldest continuously operating chocolate company in America. An ambitious, marketing-savvy Quaker, Whitman was 19 when he opened Whitman’s Confectionery and Fruiterer Shoppe near the waterfront in Philadelphia. Twelve years later, after making a name as a seller of individual treats, he introduced his first box of candies: Whitman’s Choice Mixed Sugarplums, in a frilly pink container.

Seventy years later, with Whitman long dead but with Whitman’s Candies having become a major producer of chocolates, the first Sampler was born, the brainstorm of the company’s then president Walter P. Sharp. Legend has it that Sharp was inspired by an actual stitching sampler–a framed bit of fabric featuring various bravura stitching samples–that hung on the wall of his grandmother’s house. This explains the famous Whitman’s Sampler box cover, with the embossed faux stitching and the little needlework-esque flowers and birds.

“The Whitman’s Sampler is an important piece of America,” O’Hara says. “Everybody has an old Whitman’s Sampler somewhere–in their mom’s closet or their grandmother’s attic, filled with old buttons or photographs,” he says. “For some folks, it means an awful lot to get a box of candy, even today.”

Joan Freed, a Portland, Ore., writer, actress and self-described “chocolate obsessive,” adamantly agrees. “Growing up,” she says, “I always thought of Whitman’s Samplers as the classic Valentine’s Day gift.” Freed is the creator-performer of Chocolate Confessions, a long-running one-woman show about a chocolate shop owner named Coco Bliss and the, uh, sampler of customers she serves each day.

“When I was young,” Freed says, “I’d always dreamed that some boy I had a crush on would honor me with a big box of Whitman’s chocolate. Even as a girl, my fantasies were in chocolate!” Sadly, that Valentine’s Day fantasy never became reality, no doubt attributing to her staging a whole show about, to quote the posters, “life, love and chocolate.”

“There was one Valentine’s Day, though, years later,” Freed recalls, “when my son gave me a small Whitman’s box of chocolates. I was so thrilled! I still have the box.”

“Whitman’s is one of the great mainstream American chocolates, but the wonderful thing about the Whitman’s Sampler,” says Mickey McGowan, a Northern California dealer in collectible items and memorabilia, “is that it’s become a kind of multigenerational thread, weaving in and out of a family, grandparents giving them to grandkids, passing on warm associations. For most of us, the Whitman’s Sampler has always been there and it will always be there. A lot of people collect the boxes and keep them because of all the associated memories, some of which are associations to the chocolate and the rest are associations with love and family. The boxes are kind of beautiful.

“That said,” adds McGowan, “I’ve always been more of a See’s kind of guy, myself.”

Tom Ward, president and CEO of Russell Stover, talks about the Whitman’s Sampler in the same respectful tones that Superbowl coaches use to describe their star quarterback. His take is similar to McGowan’s.

“The biggest part of the Sampler tradition,” says Ward, “is the giving and receiving part, and the memories that go along with that. It’s all about tradition. After Christmas, our second biggest holiday is Valentine’s Day, and the tradition of the Whitman’s Sampler is a huge part of that. There’s a lot of emotion and romance involved in the giving of chocolates on Valentine’s Day.”

With a chuckle he adds, “Though sometimes I think people hope to get a little more out a $9 box of candy than they end up getting.”

From the February 5-11, 2004 issue of the North Bay Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.