Persimmon Creek

Rolling hills at Persimmon Creek vineyard

A grape is a bit like a time capsule,  each berry faithfully recording the story of the season in which it was reared.  From the sun, wind, and rain down to the microbes in the soil, every nuance of the grapes' growing conditions effect the flavor and complexity of the fruit.  And when the grapes are processed into wine, those subtleties are transferred into glass bottles where they will once again be subject to light, temperature, and time.  When you really think about the amount of effort that goes into each bottle, wine starts to look less like fermented grape juice and more like a feat of pure alchemy.

Having never visited a vineyard, and especially not a Georgia vineyard, I really had no expectations.  I am by no means a wine snob, but I can appreciate quality.  Mary Ann Hardman is quick to point out that wine doesn't grow on the vine, and behind every bottle is a vineyard.  At Persimmon Creek, each bottle is the result of dedication, hard work, patience, a unique microclimate, and a whole bunch of love.  The Hardmans have created something larger than the wine and I'd encourage you to make the journey to Clayton, GA if you get the chance.  Persimmon Creek and its North Georgia peers are working hard to create great wines that the whole world can enjoy. 

Of course the next harvest at Persimmon Creek will be a few grapes shy after I made the rounds at the vineyard.   The grapes are so abundant and so delicious that I was starting to wonder if the bird netting was there to protect the vines from marauding birds or hungry visitors like myself.  And each variety has such unique characteristics, so sweet, sour, and burstingly juicy, that it's hard not to sample them all and imagine how those qualities will manifest in each of their respective bottles.  It's a long, labor intensive process, but I think it's worth the wait.

Be well...gesundheit!

Hans

Tilapia in Georgia?

1 fish, 2 fish, white fish...white fish

When my friends at the department of agriculture told me I needed to visit a tilapia farm in Valdosta, I did one of those sitcom double takes.  In Georgia?  Tilapia are tropical fish that are native to Egypt and while it can brutally hot in south Georgia, the mercury can drop to below freezing in the winter, which would certainly wipe out most tropical fish.  The answer: keep 'em inside!  The fish farmers can raise 250,000 pounds of live tilapia in 12 tanks about the size of a small swimming pool over the course of a year.  The tanks are on a closed water system that cycles and recycles the water, using biological filtration to keep the nitrates, nitrites, and ammonia in check and huge oxygen reactors to keep the water fully oxygenated.  Being the aquarium nerd that I am, I was impressed to see that all of their gadgets were just over sized versions of the equipment I use in my home tanks.  And the fish I keep in my tanks are actually closely related to the tilapia (in the cichlid family), but we tend not to eat ours.  

Feeding frenzy!

I was really impressed with the cleanliness of the operation.  Plus the fact that it only takes 1.5 pounds of feed to produce 1 pound of fish.  Compare that to beef at 8 to 1 or chicken at 3 to 1 and you see that tilapia is an extremely efficient source of protein  This particular farm only sells live fish to markets that typically cater to Hispanic or Asian clientele.  I've seen their live tilapia at my favorite Asian market (Super H Mart!) and the fish always look bright and healthy.  As an ingredient, tilapia is an excellent, firm and mild fish that holds up to all kinds of cooking methods.  

I have to say, it was all I could do not to smuggle (rescue) a couple of the baby fish back home to my aquarium.  But tilapia get huge and, like all cichlids, aggressive which would've caused an all-out war in my aquariums.  It was a rare moment of refrain.  

The season is winding down and we only have a few more shows to shoot.  I have my eye on season 2, but we're going to have to get the first one finished before we can look too far ahead.  Huitt has done an amazing job with both the camera work and the editing and I can't wait to share the episodes with everyone.  Fun stuff...

Be well...gesundheit!

Hans

 

More incredible cheese...

Apparently goats like Sony XDCAM cameras.  I don't know what the goat thought it was going to taste like, but she was ready to leap the fence to find out!  It gives me an idea for a new Sony commercial though:  "Sony...quality you can taste!"

Cutting the curd at Sweet Grass Dairy

Our latest adventure brought us down to south-west Georgia to the thriving little town of Thomasville.  Not only did we get to sample some of the world's best cheeses at Sweet Grass Dairy, we also sampled even MORE cheese at a fun little restaurant downtown called Liam's.  And when lunch was over, we went back to the dairy and ate even MORE cheese.  There's very little you can complain about when you have that much cheese on the agenda.    

Beautiful cheese aging in one of the cellars at Sweetgrass...

I know I've said it before, but there's something downright magic about the cheese making process.  The very notion that you can transform something as liquid as milk into something as complex and intricate as cheese is simply remarkable.  The amount of time and energy that goes into each handcrafted batch of cheese at Sweet Grass translates directly into the number of awards their cheeses have received.  

Much to do...time for cheese!  More soon...

Gesundheit,

Hans

Uh....

It's been a little bit since I've posted about the show, but that doesn't mean we're not working on it.  In fact, we're making a dash to the finish line with 10 of 13 shows shot and some big field pieces to shoot next week.  It's been a tremendous experience and I can't wait to share it with you.

If you spend enough time watching yourself on TV, you really start to critique your every movement and noise.  Back in my high school debate years, I used to pride myself on my ability to run my mouth without the use of filler noises like "uh".  Somehow I've picked up the "uh" bug and it's driving me insane to hear it.  I don't script the show per se, so much of (or most of) my monologue is stream of consciousness, a bit of thinking aloud as I go through the preparation.  I'm a bit like William Shatner in my delivery, pausing as I speak not only for effect, but to take just a second to capture the correct word from my head.  Of course hindsight is 20/20, and there's not much I would change about the show, but the "uh"s need to stop.  Perhaps we can rig up some sort of electro-shock system to cure me of the affliction.  If I can beat cancer, I can sure as hell rid myself of the dreaded "uh".

Much to do!  More fun photos and videos soon,

Gesundheit!

Hans

On figs...

Today's little harvest of okra, beans, and burstingly ripe figs

If you've been keeping up with my personal blog, you're probably sick to death of pictures of figs.  If so...I'm sorry.  But it's fig season and I think they're one of the most perfect foods on this planet.  Figs have long been a symbol of fertility and fecundity and the leaves were apparently used to cover Adam and Eve's naughty bits.  What more could you ask for?  I've seen recipes using the fig leaves much the same way you would use grape leaves in dolmas, but fig leaves have a bit of a funky smell to them.  I love foraging in the fig tree for the ripe fruits/flowers, but the leaves always smell a wee bit like cat urine.  Even the cats look affronted when I'm rustling through the leaves.  Unless you live in a damn cold place, you should plant a fig tree in your  yard.  They're exceptionally hardy and will reward you year after year.  We have three small trees and our snap frost last Easter killed one of them to the ground.  It's main trunk may be dead, but it's shooting a fresh spray of new branches from its tenacious roots.  My sister and I gave my parents a fig tree for their 30th anniversary.  It was killed by a rogue frost about 6 years later, but came back the following year with fresh vigor.  It now stands about 40 feet tall and is littered with near-ripe figs.  It lives in a somewhat shady spot so it ripens a little slower than most, but that just means we can extend the fig season by about a month.  

We visited a fig orchard last week near Stockbridge, GA called Taylor Organics.  There were around 75 mature fig trees on the property and each one was studded with dark brown, red, or lime green figs.  I had a bit of fig envy.  I'm preparing the menu for the Fig episode that we're shooting this week but it's a bit hard to do when I keep eating the ingredients.  

I'm working hard on my cookbook and can't help but be inspired by pictures like this one.  The arugula in the garden is too bitter to eat now, but it's put its energy into the next generation.  These miniature ivory flowers will spend the rest of these warm days dancing about on the wind, providing rich nectar for the neighborhood bees, and then magically give way to little black seeds that will burst out next spring and do it all over again.  Pretty cool...

Another reason to love Arugula...it's beautiful!

Much to do...time for a fig.  Gesundheit!

Hans

Gaia and Oakhurst

Ladybugs are always welcome at Gaia

My hunt for tomatoes in the Atlanta area led me to the fine folks at Oakhurst gardens.  Oakhurst is a really groovy community garden in Decatur and its heart is larger than its actual square footage.  Locals can lease garden plots, but it's really about much more than that.  There's a sense of community here that you don't find in many places, and it's the garden that glues it all together.  One of the garden's community projects is the All Girls Green Team and you've never met a more enthusiastic group of young gardeners.  Many of them came to the garden with no previous farming experience and a couple of them had never eaten a cherry tomato before that morning.  But that didn't take away from their excitement, each of them scurrying from plant to plant like they were looking for diamonds or opals.  

The Green Team showing off the day's harvest

The girls take their harvest to local markets twice a week and they get to keep a portion of the proceeds.  But I get the feeling that the money isn't the motivation here.  These girls have discovered the thrill of the garden and it's something that will stay with them through old age.  And hopefully it's something they can pass on to their children and their children to come.  

It's all about the bees...

Eat well, be well...gesundheit!

Hans

Vegetable or Fruit?

A basket full of history...

Scientifically it's a fruit, but as a commodity it's a vegetable.  The very fact there is such a debate illustrates the versatility of this amazing garden gem.  Today's field trip took us to the garden of heirloom tomato aficionado/fanatic Bill Yoder, a man whose knowledge of tomatoes borders on the encyclopedic.  Bill and his family grow about 250 varieties of historic heirloom varieties and are part of an international seed exchange program that ensures the future of these seldom seen tomato breeds.  While many of these varieties were once hugely popular and readily available in seed catalogs, they didn't quite make the cut when it comes to either ship-ability or long-term storage and are therefore rarely seen in mass markets. 

Intense, bite-sized tomatoes

There is really no comparison between these vibrant, sweet, acidic heirlooms and their over-bred, often gassed, industrial counterparts.  And nothing rivals a thick-sliced tomato sandwich lathered with thick mayonnaise and a slice of Vidalia onion.  'tis the season for tomatoes, so hit your local farmer's market and see if you can find someone growing some heirloom varieties.

Homegrown 'maters

We're growing a handful of plants in our backyard, most of which are  pithy thanks to this year's shy supply of rain.  We do have one "self-watering" container that has produced an amazing crop of these odd little, yellow-shouldered roma tomatoes.  They're extremely firm, but full of flavor.  We had about 12 of them turn ripe today and we'll need to eat them before the fruit flies in the neighborhood find out about them.  Our fruit flies have good taste in tomatoes.

Be well...gesundheit!

Hans

Sunrise on on the Sundown

Sunrise at sea

Back in Darien, GA to get some footage of an actual shrimp boat catching shrimp.  We came to Darien the first time for the blessing of the fleet, but the shrimp weren't cooperating so we decided to make a return trip.  You really don't need an excuse to visit Darien, but we did have some work to do to wrap up the show on Georgia seafood.

Captain Fred Todd agreed to take us “hill people” to experience a day on a commercial shrimp boat.  We boarded the Sundown at about 4 a.m. and headed out beyond Sapelo Island.  The night (morning?) was inky black save for brilliant flashes of heat lightning on the horizon.  The sun finally made an appearance around 6 a.m. and it was a sunrise worth waking up for.  The sun rises (or, to be a bit more accurate, the world turns towards the sun) every single day without fail, but it’s still breathtaking to see those colors emerge and wash out the night sky. 

 One of the effects of my cancer surgeries is that I can no longer physically vomit.  I can still gag and be queasy and such, but those muscles that allow you to upchuck are no longer a part of my anatomy.  I mention this because this was my first experience getting seasick since my innards have been remodeled.  I leaned over the edge of the bow out of habit, but of course nothing came up.  I just gagged for about 3 minutes and then the sensation was gone. 

 I didn’t really feel solid until breakfast was served shortly after sunrise.  The ship’s striker (a term for the person in charge of the nets on board) was a man named Reed and he knew his way around the kitchen on the Sundown.  Shrimp with bacon and gravy over grits is not what you’d usually think of for breakfast, but this was no ordinary day.  The meal was simple, but incredibly flavorful and seemed to inspire a restorative effect on my heretofore shaky constitution.  It was still delicious two hours later when the gravy was cold and the grits were solid. 

After several passes with the nets, Captain Todd decided to cut his loses and head in with about 80 pounds of shrimp in the keep.  The ever-increasing price of diesel fuel has made this already fragile industry even more unstable.  I left the Sundown with sea legs and a strong appreciation for the work those shrimpers do.  It’s tough work with an increasingly slim profit margin and a sometimes fickle catch.  I don’t think I’ll look at shrimp the same way again.

 Still eating peaches, at least one a day.  I’ll be sad when the season is over, but it’ll give me something to look forward to next year.

Be well…gesundheit!

Hans

Flat Creek Cheese

Amazing Blue from Flat Creek

The search for Georgia’s unique foods has taken me to some really unique places that I don’t think I would’ve found otherwise.  The hunt for Georgia cheeses lead me to the town of Swainsboro and a hunting/fishing/farming property called Flat Creek Lodge.  Sprawling over 2000 acres (200 of which in ponds and lakes), Flat Creek jumped into the cheesemaking business head first, importing cheesemakers from the Cheese Head state of Wisconson.  The farm is producing some amazing varieties from farmhouse to cheddars, blues to proprietary cheeses like Thai Basil and Aztec with cocoa and peppers.  My favorite was an as yet unnamed semi-soft variety that I suppose you would classify as a “stinky” cheese.  Delicious.  Flat Creek's cheeses are starting to find their way into some of the State's better gourmet shops and eateries and if they're not in your area yet, ask for them.  They're truly worth seeking out. 

One day old Jersey cow - a "New Jersey"!

If you’re in to fishing or hunting at all, this would be a really unique getaway for you and a handful of friends.  I did a little fishing while we were there and managed to catch four small-mouth bass and a couple of catfish.  One of the catfish was about 3 or 4 pounds and was quite vocal during our time together.  As I awkwardly jimmied the hook out of his mouth, he protested with a strange grunting noise that I interpreted to mean “Hurry Up!”  I’m sure he went straight back to tell his buddies about his encounter with the skinny guy in the green Shins t-shirt.

Preparing an herbed cheese for aging

From Swainsboro it’s off to Darien (one of my favorite stops along the coast) to stowaway on a working shrimp boat.  We have to get up at 4am to join the crew for a 10 hour day of shrimping.  Time to get some Dramamine.  I’ve not been on a boat for any length of time since Norway in ’99, but I’m somewhat notorious for motion sickness.  I can’t tell you how many road-trips left me doubled over on the side of the highway or over the side of a boat losing my lunch.  No fun.  Let's hope the Dramamine works!

Off we go.  Much to do...Gesundheit! 

Hans

Millions of Peaches...

Millons of yummy ripe peaches...

A case of fuzzy, yummy, Georgia peaches sits behind me as I bounce in the passenger seat on I-16 on the way to the coast.  How can a road so damn straight be so relentlessly bumpy? I’ve had this hang up about I-16 since my first trip on this mind-numbing highway back in the early ‘90’s (a trip to visit Amy and her family at Jekyll Island).  I’m usually self-rliant when it comes to occupying my brain, but something about this stretch of pavement that runs from Macon to Savannah turns my thoughts to mush.  The fact that I’m able to string words together in any semi-sensical order is actually quite impressive.  My aversion to I-16 has nothing at all to do with the communities that the lie on either end or to either side.  In fact, any excuse to get off the highway is a welcome one and we’ve had some great trips to Lyons, Vidalia, Swainsboro, Statesboro, Register, Claxton, and the like.  And Savannah is an amazing city worth hacking your way through a jungle to reach.  In fact, maybe we’ll stop there for lunch.

This leg of our journey began near Fort Valley in a little community called Zenith at the Pearson family’s 5^th generation peach and pecan farm.  That kind of operation is somewhat common in Europe (though less and less it’s sad to say), but it’s almost unheard of in this country.  When Al Pearson talks about his farm and tells stories of his grandfather, there’s a sense of pride there that you can almost feel.  They may not be the largest peach orchard in the state, but they’re worth seeking out.  Al and his wife Mary disagree about what variety is their best peach (Mary prefers the white-meat varieties), but they know they have something special going there. 

I’ve eaten about 10 peaches since our stop in Zenith.  I rarely ever eat peaches at home, but I realize now that most of the grocery store variety peaches we have access to are over-hybridized and under-ripe.   These Pearson peaches are the kind that send juice running off your chin and down to your elbows.  Delicious!  I’m looking forward to cooking with them on the show.

The 'Hans Mobile' sits in the shade of a pecan tree at Pearson farm.  

Much to do…peaches to eat!  Gesundheit,

Hans

Another patch of blue...

Welcome to Alma, GA

You can't do a show on blueberries in Georgia without making a stop in Alma.  The blueberry capital of Georgia, Alma produces as much as a million pounds of berries a week during peak harvest season.  Georgia is the country's third largest producer of blueberries behind Michigan and Maine, but that fact seems to surprise most folks.  But when you stand in a field of blueberries that seems to stretch on forever in all directions, it's hard to imagine that anyone could produce more berries.  The fields contain two main varieties with the high bush types bearing first followed by the rabbit-eye bushes (though technically rabbit-eyes are also high bush plants).  The high bush plants have to be picked by hand and each bush gets visited as many as four or five times as the berries ripen in waves.  The rabbit-eye varieties can be machine harvested and the machines used to harvest them look like strange, land-locked houseboats.  

If someone put you in a mine full of loose diamonds and said "help yourself to all you want", would you ever leave?  That was the problem that Huitt and I had in Alma.  We were told to eat as many berries as we liked and I nearly had to pull Huitt away from an endless sea of blue.  And they were absolutely delicious blueberries too.  I found myself picking and eating with one hand while picking and holding berries with the other.  So even as I was walking back to the Explorer, I was still popping blueberries in my head like some addict whose willpower had long ago vanished.  

All you can eat...and t hen some.

So we shot our blueberry show on Thursday night and I'm still not sick of them.  I made a Blue-Blue salad with blueberries and blue cheese, a peach-blueberry chutney served with duck, blueberry cornbread, and a orange-blueberry "flancake" clafouti.  I haven't seen the footage yet, but I know my teeth have to be stained blue.

Much to do!  More soon.

Gesundheit,

Hans  

Vidalia

Mountains of sweet onions just waiting to be eaten

Oh my.  If you've never experienced the wonder that is the Vidalia onion, you're probably curious as to how anyone could get excited about an onion.  Truth be told, I get excited about a good many ingredients, but these things are extra special yummy.  It seems the sandy, somewhat rocky soil in and around Vidalia is blessed with a naturally low sulfur content which keeps the onions from developing that stinging, almost hot quality that most onions possess.  It also means less gas for the consumer, which ain't a bad thing either.  Vidalia onions contain a higher natural sugar content than most apples and you truly can pick one up and eat it just like an apple.  Some of you may remember my face on the Food Network when I took a bite of what was SUPPOSED to be a Vidalia onion, but in fact was an onion cast from the bowels of Hades.  It was by far the hottest damned onion I've ever eaten.  I should've been wary of a Vidalia in January, but I'm not always none for my quick intellect.

We stayed with the Stanley family who are third generation farmers in Lyons, GA just outside of Vidalia.  Apart from being extremely nice people, they're also foodies and took us to an amazing restaurant in downtown Lyons called Elements.  You'd have to see this place to believe it and even then, you won't believe it's in the sleepy downtown of Lyons.  If you find yourself in South Georgia, you owe it to yourself to go there.  In addition to farming, the Stanleys also produce food products from their famed, certified sweet onions at their Vidalia Valley processing plant.  They make salsas (the Peach Salsa is incredibly delicious), BBQ sauces, relishes and such, plus you can order fresh onions from them.  I suggest you get some...now!

Neat Wheat!

One of the things that surprised me about Vidalia was just how much wheat was being grown there.  There's just something magical about standing in a field of wheat.  Beautiful stuff.  

One delicious onion after another...

I'll leave you with a picture of a field of onions, which to me is just downright impressive.  Delicious onions stretch out as far as the eye can see, and then some!  It's onion season people...let's eat!

More soon...gesundheit!

Hans

Production Journal Entry 1

Here's the first of our production journal entries for Hans Cooks the South. The idea is to give a little behind the scenes look at the production leading up to the January 2009 debut. Let me know what you think.

Be well...Gesundheit!

Hans

Bluberries

The beautiful Satilla River in Nahunta, GA

Following food will take you to the most unlikely places.  Our search for blueberries led us to the little town of Nahunta, which I’m told was either named for a man named N. A. Hunter or it was derived from a native American word.  Nahunta has historically been dominated by the timber industry and you simply cannot go a nanosecond without seeing pine trees.  Tobacco was also a large part of the area’s economy, but that industry has all but dried up.  Along with the rest of Brantley county, Nahunta’s focus has recently turned to blueberries and the industry is thriving.  We had a chance to visit the Southern Blue packing shed where, during peak season, they process up to 35,000 pounds of blueberries a day.  Amazing.  They grow several varieties of blueberries throughout the region and the different types come into season at different times, allowing for a much longer harvesting season.  While the city of Alma my have claims on being the blueberry capital of Georgia, the unique microclimate of Brantley county gives them a jump start on the season with berries turning ripe a full two weeks ahead of the other growing regions.

21,000 pounds of blueberries were packed the day we visited

Fresh berries on the bush...all you can eat!

I was asked to judge the blueberry dessert competition at the Taste of Brantley festival and of course I said “yes”.  You’d almost be an idiot not to!  I’m going to try and get some of those recipes to share with you, but there were things like Blueberry Pecan Crunch, Lemony Blueberry Muffins, Blueberry Coffee Crumb Cake, and a fabulous Blueberry Kuchen  (which took home the honor of first prize).  It’s tough to be a judge at a tasting when you only have half a stomach, but I do my best.  I literally just take a small bite and then move on, which takes a ton of will power when you’re eating glorious blueberry desserts.  

The winning dessert entry by Tom and Michelle Raulerson: Blueberry Kuchen

We also visited a great herb farm near Nahunta run by Vince and Debbie Baker.  Mint, rosemary, oregano, chives, lavender, sorrel, basil, thyme, salad greens (including one  seriously peppery arugula) and even some baby root vegetables are all carefully tended to produce a crop that any cook worth their weight in salt would covet.  It’s tough work, to be sure, but Vince and Debbie never seem to stop smiling.  

 

Baby white and red turnips from the herb farm

Nahunta is also extremely proud of their award winning Circle R beef jerky, produced by Tom and Michelle Raulerson (the same folks who made the winning blueberry dessert).  I’m actually finishing off the last of the Caribbean style beef jerky as I write this, but luckily folks in the state of Georgia can order directly from their website.  Most beef jerky you find these days is so highly processed that it scarcely resembles food, but this stuff is hand crafted, honest-to-goodness beef jerky.  Good stuff.

I don't know that I would've every found Nahunta without the help of the Boland family and the fine folks at the Brantely Telephone Company.  If you ever find yourself in extreme southeast Georgia, make sure you stop in Nahunta.

Be well...gesundheit!

Hans

Glorious pokeweed...

Dr. Sams and a mess of pokeweed

There's no finer example of a Southern gentleman than Dr. Ferrol Sams.  If you don't know who he is, I implore you to find out (click on his name for a link to his biography) and read his books.  His first novel Run with the Horseman was is one of those novels that will become a part of your life, his memories become yours.   He and his beautiful and fully charming wife Dr. Helen Sams were kind enough to let us take over their kitchen and invade their sanctuary with our cameras, lights, cables and cords.  It would be an act of heresy to do a show about Georgia and not include dear old Dr. Sams.  

Dr. Sams is one of the few "old-timers" around that still enjoys the pleasures of the native pokeweed.  Pokeweed pops up in the spring and people have been eating its tender leaves and stalks since colonial times.  The weed has a reputation for being toxic, but if you prepare it correctly it's a remarkable Spring treat.  Dr. Sams spent hours preparing the greens and shared his preparation techniques with us for the show.  Delicious.

It's quite possible that no one on planet Earth enjoys fresh calves liver as much as Ferrol and Helen Sams and that dish was the real focus of our visit.

Fresh calves liver with Vidalia onions, dandelion greens & cider vinegar

Liver is one of those things that people either love or hate.  I found out that my crew aren't big fans of it.  I love it, but don't eat it too often.  I added the dandelion greens for a nice hint of bitter, and a splash of apple cider vinegar adds a nice twang of sour.  My dad likes to eat it raw with a bit of sea salt and coarse ground pepper.  I've tried it that way, but the texture is a bit to unique for me.  

It was a pleasure to cook for the Doctors Sams and I think it'll make for a nice way to end that particular show.  It was one of those days I'll remember until I stop remembering.  

The story of how my father met Dr. Sams is as good as any friendship tale you'll ever hear.  I won't tell it here in the hopes that he takes the hint and finally begins to write his own stories before they're forgotten.  

Next stop, Nahunta Georgia and the year's first blueberry harvest.  More soon,

Gesundheit!

Hasn  

Stalking asparagus...

Ultra-fresh asparagus spears at Full Moon

The first show we're putting together is really about the harbingers of spring.  Things like ramps and greens and, of course, asparagus.  Yes we all know asparagus makes your pee smell a little funny, but that's a small consequence on what is an otherwise amazing ingredient.  Even while the rest of the garden tries to shake off the winter blahs, asparagus shoots pierce the soil like bayonets in an attempt to harvest that early spring sunshine.  If you've never snapped off an asparagus spear and eaten it raw straight from the garden, you're missing something.  Compared to the grocery store variety, garden fresh asparagus is plump and full of liquid. 

 

Huitt stalking the asparagus in High Definition

Growing asparagus does require a bit of an investment on the farmer's behalf.  The plants take a few years to mature, are hungry for nutrients (good, rich organic material), and only produce usable spears for a short amount of time.  So a lot of time, space, and energy go into producing a relatively small crop, but thankfully enough farmers make the effort.  

Our search for asparagus brought us to a little farm in Athens that's doing things right.  The Full Moon Cooperative not only practices sustainable farming, they also have a CSA (community supported agriculture) that grows for about 100 families AND they have a restaurant whose menu utilizes the farm's bounty.  Pretty groovy.  It sounds like somewhat of a radical concept (and in today's market, perhaps it is), but ultimately it's a return to form on how food was once raised.  The farmer had a constant dialogue with his consumer and treated the land as the biodynamic, living, organic thing that it really is.  For whatever political, economic, or social reasons (and there are many), many farmers had to make the switch to large scale, single crop agriculture in order to survive.  That mode of farming requires an abundant supply of water, fertilizers, and fuel and is taxing on the soil.  It's nice to see that there is a movement to return to that more biodynamic, sustainable model of agriculture and Full Moon's CSA and restaurant example is one worth supporting.

Thunk...thunk (that's the sound of me getting off of my soapbox)

What was I talking about...oh yeah...asparagus!  Farm 255 (the restaurant face of Full Moon) invited us over for some chilled asparagus soup with chervil (both harvested that day at the farm).  If you're ever in the Athens area (made famous by the B-52's and REM...oh and I think there's some University there), make it a point to go to Farm 255.  You will scarcely find a fresher experience unless you harvest and prepare your own produce.  They also do all of their own animal husbandry, which means that any meats on the menu were sourced from their own animals.  The menu is dictated by what is available, which means it may only be limited to four or five items each day, but that's the point.  The menu is created each and every day from what the farm has provided or what can be sourced from other local farmers.  What a concept.  And to top it all off, it's downright good.  These are people that take pride in their craft and respectfully utilize the resources they're so fortunate to have.

Chilled asparagus soup at Farm 255

Once again I've gotten away from asparagus.  Let's talk about what to do with them.  I loathe limp asparagus.  As with any food, you'll find sweeping differences of opinion, but I'm somewhat of a purist when it comes to most things green.  Butter or olive oil, sea salt, maybe a bit of onion or garlic (or both), lemon and some fire and you're done.  My kids love them, possibly because they're allowed to eat them with their fingers, but more likely because it makes their pee smell funny...

Be well...gesundheit!

Hunting Ramps...

Wild ramps fresh from the earth

The word hunting may not be appropriate here as it connotes rifles or arrows or at the very least, some sense of participation on the side of the hunted...BUT...we went out hunting ramps this past week.  Ramps are the wild allium (think hyper-garlic) that grows throughout the eastern United States during a brief time in early Spring.  We get them in the North Georgia mountains in early to mid-April before they trees fully leaf out.  Ramps have a rich history in Appalachia and were even thought to ward off evil spirits and vampires (what's with people and vampires?).  Up here they eat them pickled and fried, but most commonly cooked with eggs or "taters" or both.  Unfortunately, many of the locals only eat the bulbs of the ramp and discard the greens.  The greens are quite possibly my favorite part as they taste like garlic-kissed spinach and can be used to add that garlic kick to more subtle dishes.  The bulbs will let you know in a hurry that they're there, while the greens just sneak that distinct flavor in.  

Once you find a patch of ramps (or "mess o'ramps"), it's a sight to behold.  You can walk in the mountains for hours and not see a single ramp and then come across an area that's nearly infested with them.  If the breeze is right, you can actually smell them before you see them.  Some of you may remember our ramp adventure from last year, but this one was different because it was in a new location for us and it involved the addition of horses.  Even though I was raised in horse country, this was my first time on a horse.  And you think you'd practice the whole equine thing on flat ground, but I had to hop on and give it a go on a mountain.  Luckily, my designated horse Sunny (or Sonny...he didn't spell his name for me) was gentle and patient and semi-obedient.  I don't know how Sunny felt at the end of the day, but I'm STILL sore from the experience.  And getting camera equipment up and down those mountains was less than a picnic too.  But I think it'll make for a great segment on the show.

Sunny the horse - my ramp taxi

I'd heard about ramps my whole life but was only inducted to the ramp culture last year.  I must say I look forward to them now and even my young son Finn gets excited about the possibility of ramps and eggs.  We saw ramps for sale in a farmer's market last year during our visit to Germany.  They're called  Bärlauch in German, which means "Bear's Leek", presumably because bears have good taste and enjoy them just as much as we do.  If nothing else, ramps give you an excuse to get up in the mountains and enjoy a good walk.  We've met ramp hunters that will admit that they're really not big fans of eating them but they go year after year with their friends just for the sheer pleasure of getting outside and doing something.  Those are the kind of people I need to hook up with so I can graciously take the spoils of their foraging.  

Huitt in a mess of ramps

Next we're asparagus hunting, but it shouldn't involve quite as much vigorous exercise.  

Be well...geshundheit!

Hans

Georgia clams...

Huitt shooting Charlie and the clams from the airboat

There's a thriving clam industry happening in the marshy wetlands and tidal flats along the Georgia coast. You could drive up and down the coast and have no idea that literally tons of clams are being cultivated beneath the nutrient rich mud. And we're talking world-class clams here...tender and delicious. One of the folks that's been on the forefront of the Georgia clam industry is Charlie Phillips, seen here searching for large, wild clams by feeling for them with his feet. The wild clams are large and heavy for their size. Charlie has been collecting wild clams since he was a child and knows exactly where to find them. He seems to have a a genuine love of the mollusk and it's no wonder that he turned from a life of shrimping to cultivating and harvesting these bivalves.

Wild clams moments after being pulled from the water

The clams he raises in the mudflats are much smaller (only 18 to 24 months old compared to the 5+ year old wild ones he collected) and are therefore more tender. Charlie and his crew plant clam "seeds" about the size of a fingernail by placing them in mesh bags much like what you'd buy onions in. As the clams mature, the bags are turned and relocated from time to time until they reach maturity. The tidal waters that feed these clams are rivaled only by Alaska for their cleanliness and the clams are truly better for it.

Garlic, white wine, clams, and mint...fresh and delicious

Charlie was kind enough to send us away with about 5 pounds which I cooked up on the dock with a bit of garlic, white wine, and a ton of fresh mint (added at the last minute). That's the kind of food that you can't get enough of. And the best thing is, clams are a food that require very little by way of growing needs. No chemicals, no feed, just clean water and a bit of TLC and you're rewarded with a delicious source of protein that's versatile and forgiving.  

Though somewhat chewier, the larger wild clams are downright tasty

As amazing as the clams are, Darien is known for its white shrimp and that's what we set out to find.  More on that in the next installment...

Be well, eat well...

Hans