Picking wild blackberries is something I truly miss about living in the Pacific Northwest. Blackberry bushes hang heavy with ripe fruit in late August and early September all over the state of Washington. After I finished my year of traveling and before I left for California, I spent an August and a September living in rural Pierce county (which is even more rife with blackberry bushes than the average Washington county) and I took every opportunity possible to go outside and pick them. Blackberry cobbler, blackberry jam, blackberry puree, blackberry pancakes — if I could add blackberries, you name it, I made it.

My most frequent foraging ground was (conveniently) my dad’s backyard. Blackberry bushes wildly spill over his back fence, offering gallons of berries for the picking. And when I’d picked every ripe berry offered there I only had to travel a few hundred feet down the road to another fruitful thicket. Ah, Edgewood.

Anyhow, a couple of weeks ago I went up to Washington for a visit with my family (and the IFBC). I arrived early in the afternoon on a Saturday, and Dad and I spent most of the afternoon sitting on his deck sipping local micro brew and catching up with each others’ lives. From the deck you can spy the myriad blackberry bushes that spill over the fence that marks his property boundary. Perhaps having these heavy, ripe, prickly blackberry bushes in my visual periphery all afternoon reminded me of simpler times past (before I went to grad school and started my ‘adult life’), and inspired me to make jam. I mean, what else does one do on vacation than make jam?

Making jam is a labor of love. No bones about it. For most people, there’s absolutely no way that making your own jam is more cost-effective or time-efficient than buying even the fanciest jam available at Whole Foods or the like. It usually costs more to make your own, and certainly takes more time, but still, there is something just lovely about the exercise. It’s a quiet, thoughtful activity, good for the soul I’d say. And I swear it tastes better! :)

Anyhow, next time you find yourself with access to wild blackberries, consider taking a few hours out of your life to make this delicious and simple blackberry jam. Your quiet side will thank you for taking the time.

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Wild Blackberry Jam
from Christine Ferber’s Mes Confitures
Makes 6 – 7 half pints

1 kg wild blackberries (2.2 lbs), picked over and well rinsed
800 g sugar
juice of 1 medium lemon
1/2 t vanilla extract (optional)

Combine berries, sugar, and lemon juice in a large saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, pour mixture into a ceramic or glass bowl, cover with parchment, refrigerate and let stand overnight.

The next day, pour the berry mixture into a preserving pan. Add vanilla if using. Bring to a boil and cook for about 10 minutes until the jam is set (I use the wrinkle test*). Pour into sterilized jars** and seal***.

Let the jam cool. It is ready to use immediately. Enjoy!

* The Wrinkle Test = put a small plate in the freezer to chill for at least 10 minutes. When you think the jam is done, pour about 1/2 t. of the jam onto the chilled plate, then replace in the freezer for 90 seconds. Remove the plate and push the jam with your finger; if it wrinkles, the jam is done; if the jam doesn’t wrinkle (imagine pushing your finger through honey), continue cooking the jam and re-test in 4-5 minutes.

**The easiest way to sterilize jars is to place them (without rings or lids) into a 250 degree oven for 10 minutes. Sterilize rings and lids by boiling for 5 minutes. Leave rings and lids in hot water until ready to use.

*** To properly seal canned jam, boil jars in a large pot of water for 7-10 minutes. The water should cover the jars by at least 2 inches.

Blackberries hanging over dad's fence

I love chard but often find myself at a dead end when trying to come up with new ways to prepare the humble green after weeks, months, years of getting it my CSA boxes.  How many different ways are there to saute, braise, broil, bake, or cream a leafy green?  Sure, I’ll add a little spice, perhaps some candied ginger, an extra dollop of butter, but at the end of the day, I feel like I have exhausted all the possibilities.

This chard preparation, however, is REALLY different.  It’s not that often that I find a vegetable dish that tastes nothing like anything I’ve ever made before, and it’s even less frequent that I actually like (let alone love) that vegetable dish!  With the first bite of this, I knew I had stumbled on something different, and more importantly, something remarkably delicious.  Who’d have thought it would all be thanks to lime pickle?

Indian lime pickle is a very pungent, salty, mildly spicy, incredibly unique condiment made with mustard oil.  I first tasted it back in 2001 when I spent a few months living in Jaipur, India.  The first time I put Indian pickle in my mouth, I’m pretty sure I spit it out and puckered my face with disgust.  Ewww!  But somehow I’ve come to love the pungent condiment, and it’s my favorite part of any Indian dining experience (and the fennel/sugar palate cleanser at the end).

Since lime pickle is decidedly an acquired taste, I don’t really recommend you try this recipe unless you know you like Indian pickles.  The taste of the pickle in this dish is assertive and unmistakable.  Never tried lime pickle or can’t remember if you have?  Pick up a jar at an Indian grocery store, or ask for a side dish of pickle the next time you eat at an Indian restaurant.  If you get it in a restaurant, it’ll probably be mixed pickle (with mango, lime, carrots, and other vegetables), but the taste is 95% the same.  If it turns out you like pungent pickles as much as I do, then by all means, make this easy, unique chard dish and be excited that the world of leafy green vegetables is wider than you might have thought. :)

Swiss Chard with Indian Lime Pickle
Adapted from Epicurious.com
Serves 2

1 1/2 T. Indian Lime Pickle
1-2T. olive oil
juice from half a lemon
1 t. salt
1 T. butter
1 shallot, minced
2 T. water
1 bunch swiss chard, stems removed and reserved for another use, chopped into bite size pieces

Finely mince the lime pickle.  Combine with olive oil, lemon juice, and salt in a small bowl and mix.  Set aside. Heat butter in a saute pan over medium heat.  Add shallot and saute until translucent.  Add chard and toss to coat with butter.  Add water, then cover pan to steam the chard, lifting the lid and stirring occasionally until the chard is wilted, about 3-4 minutes total.  Add the lime pickle mixture and stir to combine.  Cook an addition 30-40 seconds.  Serve atop brown rice or as a side dish for an Indian meal.  Enjoy!

Ricotta, ricotta, ricotta.  So versatile, so simple, so delicious when done well, and so awful when done wrong.  For most of my life I hated ricotta, thinking it too rubbery and tasteless.  That is, until I tried (quote unquote) REAL ricotta.  Not the stuff from the grocery store, but the artisan cheese that is traditionally the by-product of making mozarella.

Artisan ricotta is an entirely different entity than typical grocery store ricotta.  And for those of you who think I might just be snobby about these things, well, I must say it’s simply not true!  Take cottage cheese, for example. I have sampled and re-sampled artisan cottage cheese and compared it to regular cottage cheese…. and the result?  the grocery store variety is good enough for my day-to-day.  However, this is absolutely not the case with ricotta.

So now that we’ve established my ricotta obsession, let’s move onto the gnocchi!

About two weeks ago Steven and I decided to do a night on the town, complete with a few Berlioz pieces at the San Francisco Symphony and a dinner at the much renowned Zuni Cafe.  After two hours of wonderful music, we sat down to a late dinner at Zuni.  After perusing their tempting menu we decided on the ricotta gnocchi with brown butter sauce, along with their world famous burger.

The gnocchi were the first to arrive, and after taking the first bite I turned to Steven and said, “I just ate a little piece of cheesy heaven”.

They were that good.  If you are in SF, run, don’t walk, to Zuni to get these gnocchi.

Returned home, the wheels started turning and I decided I must make these at home.  After perusing one of my favorite blogs, The Paupered Chef, I came across a recipe that seemed like it might be as good as the Zuni gnocchi — Ricotta Gnudi from The Spotted Pig.

A week and a few cups of semolina later, I found myself fishing ricotta gnocchi out of their flour bath and dropping them into a vat of boiling water.  And the result?  Wonderful!  When you bite into them, the gnocchi basically explode with warm ricotta in your mouth.  Though that may or may not sound appealing to you, it is simply delightful.

The other thing about these little balls of deliciousness is that though they take time, the effort required is quite minimal.  MUCH easier than making, say, homemade fettucine or lasagne noodles since no pasta machine or rolling is required.  But even though they are easier to make, the effect is no less dramatic, and if you were to serve these at your next dinner party, accolades would most surely follow.

Zuni inspired Ricotta Gnocchi
serves 2-3

1 c. high quality ricotta, preferably sheep milk
1 c. grated parmesan
2 eggs plus 1 egg yolk
1/2 t. grated nutmeg
1/2 c. AP flour
3-4 c. semolina flour
Your favorite sauce (suggestions: brown butter with fried sage, bright and spicy tomato, light cream, pesto, bacon/cream/parmesan/parsley/olive oil)

Combine the ricotta, parmesan, eggs and egg yolk, and nutmeg in a bowl.  Whip until light and fluffy.  Fold in flour and mix until well combined.  Add more flour if the mixture is too sticky to roll into balls.

Roll the mixture into roughly 1 inch balls.  Pour a 1/2 inch layer of semolina into a baking pan, and place the balls in the flour, spaced about 1 inch apart.  Cover with the rest of the semolina and make sure the ricotta balls are well-buried.  Cover and refrigerate overnight.

The next day, carefully fish out the gnocchi from the semolina, gently shaking the balls to rid them of excess flour.  The flour that remains can be sifted and saved for a later use.

Allow the gnocchi to come to room temperature, and in the meantime bring a large pot of generously salted water to a boil.  Carefully slide the gnocchi into the boiling water and cook until they float to the surface, about 1-2 minutes.  Be careful that you do not overcook them, which results in a rubbery texture.

Serve immediately with your favorite sauce, perhaps browned butter with fried sage, a bright and spicy tomato sauce, a light cream sauce, or even with a crumble of bacon along with some olive oil, red pepper flakes, and parmesan.

The tumbleweed rolled and tumbled down the windy street as we sat in the diner. Little plumes of dust swirled in its wake, lit by the morning sun. I remember watching the tumbleweed as I ate my breakfast, thinking… where *are* we? I felt like I was in some eerie, abandoned Old West town, but my dad kept things light by making Wile E. Coyote jokes and doing voices from Looney Tunes because that’s the kind of guy he is :)

Who’d have thought that more than ten later I would open up my Mystery Box of vegetable from Mariquita Farms and find a close cousin of that tumbleweed. And furthermore, that I would cook it up into a cheesecake and write a post about tumbleweed and cooking.

But that’s far enough down memory lane. Let’s talk agretti!

A bunch of Agretti

Please do not judge agretti by its appearance. It hardly looks like a vegetable, but rather a strange grass you might find growing at the edge of a pond or an oasis in the high desert. When eaten raw, agretti is the slightest bit lemony, reminiscent of sorrel, and when you bite into it, has the tendency to pop, a little like a juicy grape. Cooked, it loses its pop but retains its flavor. Raw or just barely cooked it has a brilliant green color, which darkens after about 5 minutes of cooking.

When confronted with this vegetable I had never seen before in my life, I was a little… intimidated. The internet offered few ideas, and it isn’t mentioned even once in my LARGE stack of cookbooks… what to do? But of course! Cheese, eggs, herbs, more cheese, bake… this combination rarely fails me.

I’ve yet to see this vegetable anywhere besides vegetable boxes from Maraquita farms, but if you do happen to come across it, I encourage you to pick up a bunch and try out this unusual vegetable!

Agretti and Ricotta Cheesecake
Inspired by 101 Cookbooks

1 large bunch Agretti, rinsed and dried
2 medium shallots
5-6 cloves garlic

8 oz. neufchatel cheese (or cream cheese)
2 c. ricotta, drained for 10 minutes
a large handful of fresh herbs, chopped (I used a mix of tarragon, sage, and parsley)
1/2 c. grated parmesan
2 eggs

1/3 c. goat cheese, crumbled

Preheat the oven to 325. Oil a 7 inch spring form pan*.

Trim the bottom 1-2 inches from the agretti stems and discard. Chop the rest into 1-2 inch pieces.

Heat about 2 T. olive oil in a large saute pan over medium high heat. Add the shallots, cook 1-2 minutes, then add the garlic. Saute for 2-3 minutes, then add the agretti and very generously season with salt and pepper. Saute until the agretti has reduced to about 1/3 it’s original size. Allow to cool, then transfer to a cutting board and roughly chop.

Put the neufchatel into a large bowl and whip either with a fork or an electric whisk to soften. Add the ricotta, herbs, parmesan, and eggs and mix until well combined. Fold the agretti mixture into the cheese. Pour into the spring form pan, place on a baking tray, and bake for 1 hour.

Sprinkle goat cheese over the top of the cheesecake and bake for an additional 20-30 minutes, until goat cheese has softened. If desired, place the cheesecake under the broiler for 1-2 minutes until the top is golden. Remove from oven, allow to cool for about 15 minutes, then release from spring form pan. Serve warm or at room temperature.

*Note: if you don’t have a spring form pan, you may use a regular pie plate. Keep an eye on the cooking process though, as the depth of the cheesecake is quite different when using a pie dish versus a small spring form pan. You will likely need to cook the cheesecake for less time.

It’s not that often that I get fluttery thinking about cookies.  Most of the time cookies are cookies, and I could take or leave them (well, to be honest I’ll usually take them).  These cookies, however, are certainly an exception.  I think I could eat them everyday for the rest of my life.  They are so unique — a little crunchy, earthy, sweet but not cloying, buttery, and with just a hint of saltiness.

The first time I made these was years and years ago, when I was living in a co-op in the Santa Cruz mountains outside of Palo Alto.  We had a huge garden filled with tomatoes, squash, and all sorts of herbs.  There was a large sage plant growing alongside some rosemary, and through some fortuitous series of events, I decided to try baking a dessert with this strong, musty herb that people seem to either love or hate.

And the result?  Absolutely fantastic.  The recipe quickly became my favorite cookie recipe.

Anytime I take a plate of these cookies somewhere new, a very predictable series of events occurs:  Someone will ask what kind of cookies they are.  I tell them they are made with dried apricots, sage, and cornmeal.  People look at the plate with some trepidation.  A brave soul tries one.  Within about 10 minutes, the entire plate is gone.

Try them.  They are simply delicious.

Apricot, Cornmeal, and Sage Cookies
From Epicurious
Makes 25-30 3-inch cookies

1/2 c. butter
3/4 c. sugar
1 egg
3/4 c. plus 2 T. all-purpose flour
1/2 t. baking soda
1/4 c. chopped dried apricots
2 T. minced fresh sage
1/2 c. cornmeal
1/2 t. salt

Preheat the oven to 350.  Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper.

In a bowl mix the butter, sugar, and egg until smooth.  Sift in the flour and baking soda, mix until combined, then add apricots, sage, cornmeal, and salt and stir until well combined.

Drop tablespoons of dough onto baking sheets, about 2 inches apart (the cookies spread quite a lot).  Bake 10 minutes, or until pale golden.  Remove from oven, allow to cool on baking sheet for 1-2 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack to finish cooling

Uncooked Spinach Balls, about to be frozen

Steven’s grandmother Faela is a woman I wish I could have met.  She passed away long before Steven and I knew each other, so anything I know about her is gathered from old photographs, recipe cards, and stories told by Steven and his family members. One thing I do know is that she was a heck of a cook, with specialties ranging from spinach balls to chicken pie (with few vegetables and lots of chopped hard boiled egg) to brisket and much more that you may or may not expect from a culinarily gifted Jewish Grandmother.

Faela’s recipe for spinach balls makes (in her handwritten words) enough for a small army. Expect anywhere from 100 to 150 spinach balls depending on whether your interpretation of ’1 inch ball’ is a little over, a little under, or spot on the 1 inch mark. I got about 140 from this latest batch. Unless you in fact are feeding a small army, this is probably many more spinach balls than you care to eat at once, however delicious they may be (and trust me they are delicious!). I typically freeze the whole batch, and then bake 10-20 at a time, as desired (which is often!). They are a great just-home-from-work snack to hold you over to a later-than-it-should-be dinnertime (often the case in my house).

Do you have any recipes that have been passed down through your family that are dear to you?

Faela’s Irresistible Spinach Balls

40 – 48 oz frozen chopped spinach (i.e. 3 x 16 oz bags, or 4 x 10 oz pkgs)
12 eggs, beaten
1 c. butter, melted
1 T. black pepper
1 T. salt
2 t. dried thyme
1 T. granulated garlic
4 onions, chopped (a food processor makes quick work of this)
10 oz. dry stuffing mix, or homemade croutons chopped/pulsed into pea sized pieces
1 c. grated parmesan or gruyere

Cook the spinach according to package directions, then drain.  Once cooled, squeeze the excess moisture from the spinach with your hands.  Set aside.

In a very large bowl combine eggs, melted butter, pepper, salt, thyme, garlic, onions, stuffing mix, and cheese.  Mix well.  Add spinach and stir until everything is evenly distributed.  Optionally chill mixture for a half an hour to make it easier to work with.

Working with slightly wet hands, take about 1 – 1 1/2 T. spinach mixture and roll into a 1 inch ball and place on a baking sheet (if you are going to cook the spinach balls right away, leave about 1 inch between the balls; if you are going to freeze them, you can line them up so that they are almost touching).  Repeat until all of the mixture is used up.

To cook the spinach balls right away, bake in a preheated 350 degree oven for 15-20 minutes, until the stuffing is golden brown.  Otherwise, freeze the spinach balls on the baking tray(s) until solid (about 1-2 hours).  Remove from tray(s) and store in an airtight plastic bag in the freezer until ready to use.  To cook from frozen, preheat oven to 350, and bake about 20 – 25 minutes, or until golden.

Enjoy!

Steven about to eat a spinach ball!