I is for iceberg lettuce

The prime ingredient in the retro wedge salad as well as many other salads produced since the 1920s, iceberg lettuce has been around for a long time! Crisphead, as it is also known, was the only lettuce I remember from my childhood in the 1950s; I didn’t even know there were other kinds of lettuce until I was well into my teens. Back in the day, it was typically found on every sandwich made at home from egg salad to bologna to BLTs. It was often served as a salad too with Russian dressing, occasionally topped with tomatoes or cucumbers or sometimes just dressing if toppings were scarce. 

Iceberg lettuce was so popular in mid-century America that Tupperware even invented a plastic container in which to store it! Many of you will remember these green containers that took up so much space in the refrigerator; the inside had a removable plastic disc with a spike sticking up so you could push that into the core of the lettuce head and then add a bit of water to the bottom of the container to keep the lettuce from drying out. Attach the lid, burp it and voila, crisp lettuce for weeks. Ingenius! I had one of these at some point in the past but got rid of it when we started eating more romaine and other greens.

The story behind the demise of iceberg’s no-rival popularity fascinates me. It happened like this, more or less: back in the 1970s when Caesar Chavez organized a boycott to protest the working conditions of California lettuce pickers, iceberg suddenly disappeared from grocery store shelves and/or became so expensive that shoppers looked to other alternatives. Alice Waters had a little something to do with the unraveling of iceberg’s celebrity as well when she opened Chez Panisse in Berkeley, California, in 1971. Waters simply dismissed iceberg lettuce as inferior produce while promoting the more delicate, flavorful greens she had discovered in France while training there as a chef. As a champion of the fresh and healthy food movement, Waters recognized the nutritional shortcomings of iceberg lettuce (substandard by all accounts) over other greens such as romaine, endive, mesclun, and arugula. These two accidents of history changed our tastes and broadened our culinary choices forever. Who knew?

Today iceberg still remains popular in America especially at steak houses, small town diners, and now, with the resurgence of the wedge salad, it can be found in many fancier restaurants too. I love iceberg lettuce on a good wedge salad; and, of course, one cannot have a real BLT sandwich without iceberg… it would just be wrong and un-American as well. My iceberg wedge salad recipe adapted from Bon Appetit magazine is listed below the photo.

Wedge Salad
Serves 4

4 slices of thick-cut peppered bacon
1/2 finely chopped small shallot
3/4 cup sour cream
1/2 cup buttermilk
1 Tbsp. chopped fresh chives
1 Tbsp. white wine vinegar in a small bowl
1/2 cup crumbled Maytag or other mild blue cheese
Adjust consistency with buttermilk, if needed. Season dressing generously with kosher salt, freshly ground black pepper, and more vinegar, if needed. Cut 1 small head of iceberg lettuce into 4 wedges; place on plates and spoon dressing over. Top with bacon, chopped chives and more freshly ground black pepper to taste. Enjoy!

H is for hummus

One of my favorite appetizers and all-round healthy snacks, hummus is dead simple to make at home in under 10 minutes. I usually make the classic recipe which follows below but once in a while, I'll add some roasted red bell pepper which is very good too.

Hummus originated in the Arabic world and literally meant "chickpeas" with the complete name of the prepared spread being "hummus bi tahina," which just means chickpeas and tahini (sesame seed paste). The earliest known recipes for this dish are recorded in cookbooks published in Cairo in the 13th century. Smart people even way back then! The basic ingredients are chickpeas, tahini (sesame paste), lemon, garlic and salt; it's been eaten in the middle east for millennia.

My introduction to hummus began in a Greek restaurant in Silicon Valley many, many years ago. It was just the classic version served with a drizzle of olive oil and the freshest pita bread for scooping up its deliciousness. And even though hummus is widely available in most grocery stores, it's easy to make at home and tastes so much better than commercial varieties. I don't go to the extent of cooking my own garbanzo beans, however, as I've found the canned variety is just fine. Here is my recipe:

CLASSIC HUMMUS

1 (19 oz.) can garbanzo beans, half the liquid reserved (add extra liquid for a smoother consistency)
2-3 Tbsp. fresh lemon juice
2 Tbsp. tahini
1 clove garlic, chopped
1 tsp. salt
black pepper to taste
2 Tbsp. olive oil

Super, super simple... just add all ingredients to a food processor and blend until smooth. Spoon into a serving dish, smooth it out and add whatever extras you want: a drizzle of olive oil, spices, chopped olives, chopped roasted bell pepper, cumin, parsley or nothing. Serve with pita bread, chips, or veges of choice.  (The swirled chili oil on top in my photo is Magic Ancho Chile Relish from Heidi Swanson's blog: 101cookbooks... the recipe can be found here. It's out of this world tasty; I use it on everything that needs a lift: sandwiches, tacos, veges, and as a bread dip.) Healthy. Yummy. Bon Appetit!

G is for gardening

May Sarton said it best in this lovely quote: Everything that slows us down and forces patience, everything that sets us back into the slow circles of nature, is a help. Gardening is an instrument of grace.

I try to approach gardening with that same mindfulness and gratitude -- whispering thankful prayers for everything that is thriving. The difficulty lies in trying to maintain that righteous presence in the face of damaging insects, intense heat, dry winds, and hungry animals. All those good intentions and hopeful expectations are often dashed ever so quickly by any number of these setbacks. Still as a long-time gardener, I never give up. Every year brings that familiar stirring within to dig in the dirt, plant some seeds, and see what happens, odds be damned. Over the years, I’ve gardened in every home I’ve lived from my condo deck in Silicon Valley to a 5-acre country property in Nebraska.

The next 2 photos are of my gardens in Nebraska.

These next 2 are of my Tucson garden in 2005 (fully enclosed screened garden) and 2015 (entirely open raised bed) respectively.

Any discussion about gardening would not be complete without mentioning my Dad’s garden. My parents lived in Pennsylvania in the same house where I grew up. Our yard was big enough for a large garden but my Dad planted an even larger one on some land that a friend bequeathed to him. Not far from our house, it had no fence around it and no water source; it was just an empty lot of weeds and meadow grass. I don’t know how he watered it as I had moved to the west coast by then, but he managed to grow a variety of vegetables in spite of these handicaps. 

Rabbits loved his garden too but he didn’t mind. When they ravaged his lettuce, he would respond with, “Everything has to eat.” Here is a photo of my Dad in his garden. He has a certain je ne sais quoi, no? Grace for sure.

F is for figs

I love figs, fresh with goat cheese or all by themselves. When we moved into our new/old house in May of this year, one of the first things I did was plant a black mission fig tree. It produced exactly 2 figs this season which I devoured right off the tree as soon as they were ripe. They were small but sweet and I imagined the bounty this tree could produce over the years and imagined baskets full that I would eat the same way hopefully having enough left over for making jam.

Figs are a gift from God I'm convinced. I've made fig jam from scratch using dried figs and eaten fig jam and preserves prepared by many purveyors. I never tire of it. One of the most special commercial prepared products I've come across is from Kozlowski Farms, Forestville, Ca, north of San Francisco. They call it, Fig & Muscat Wine Preserves. It is so excellent I can't imagine trying to duplicate it. I use it on pizza with goat cheese and spinach, on scones and on canapes. It's wonderful and I'm not even getting paid to promote it! Just saying. Check it out if you are intrigued. Bon appetit!

E is for epazote (eh-paw-ZOH-tay)

Epazote is native to Mexico and the tropical region of Central and South America, where it is commonly found wild. It is also widely naturalized throughout the world and the United States, especially California. In Mexican cooking, epazote is always added to the pot when cooking black beans for its natural carminative (gas-preventing) properties and because its potent aroma cuts the heavienss of the beans. Who knew!

When we started settling into our new home, I went in search of some cacti to add to our patio collection. An ad on Craigslist led me to a cacti sale in central Tucson held by a woman who had been growing cacti and succulents on her large residential property for several decades. There were so many varieties of cacti growing in the ground and in pots all over her property. I found several I wanted; one of them, a pine cone cactus had some other plant growing in the pot with it. The woman let me know it was epazote that had reseeded from her herb garden. It's especially good when cooked with black beans, she said. I had to have it; the cactus with the herb. So sweet.

All summer the herb grew effortlessly next to the cactus and now in January it's still doing fine after several prunings. I dried some of it, but most recipes call for fresh epazote and I can understand why. It's not unlike basil which is so much better fresh than dried so if you decide to use it, fresh is the way to go. Here is my black bean recipe with epazote:

Mexican Black Beans with Epazote (serves 2-3)

1/4 pound chopped fresh chorizo sausage

½ medium diced onion

1 diced carrot

1 diced celery stalk

2 garlic cloves chopped

1.5 tsp. ancho or New Mexico chile powder

1.5 tsp. ground cumin

1 large sprig fresh epazote chopped (or 1 tablespoons dried)

1 can black beans

1 cup chicken stock

1 Tbsp. fresh chopped cilantro

In a large, heavy skillet, brown chorizo sausage. Remove the chorizo, leaving the fat in the pan. Add onion, carrots, celery stalks, garlic and epazote to the pan and cook over medium heat until the vegetables become soft.

Add the can of black beans and the cooked chorizo to the vegetables, along with ancho or New Mexico chile powder, ground cumin, and salt to taste.

Cook on medium low heat for 15-20 minutes adding chicken stock to keep the beans moist. When ready to serve, top with chopped cilantro. Will keep for a couple of days in frig.

D is for desert

My home... specifically, the Sonoran Desert which covers over 100,000 square miles stretching from Arizona to Mexico and west to Baja California. Different areas of this desert can look desolate while others are lush with vegetation and mountains. I am most familiar with the Sonoran Desert here in Tucson with its towering saguaros, scrubby cholla and colorful prickly pear. The Catalina Mountain backdrop to the north of the city changes with the seasons; dry and rocky in the summer, then green and lush in the early fall to snow speckled in the winter. The desert really does have seasons. This is the view from my kitchen window... I never tire of it.

At all times of the year, the desert is full of life. Right now in early January, I have cultivated annuals, roses, and a flourishing vegetable garden. In February, the wildflowers will begin to bloom and from then on the many varieties of cacti and flowering shrubs will take their turns blooming throughout the warmer months of the year.

The desert is alive with wild animals too. In our little corner of the desert, we have coyote, raccoon, javelina, bobcats, and many varieties of birds, lizards and snakes. Our trail cam records some of them passing through our property at night -- rarely are the larger animals seen during daylight hours so we are delighted to be able to see their presence digitally.

There are many aspects of desert life to explore and appreciate. One I especially savor happens right after it rains when the creosote bush releases its unmistakable scent -- the smell of rain. A wonder to experience, it always reminds me of how blessed I am to live amidst the natural beauty of this desert I call home.

C is for cookbooks

Of which I have many. The count today is 444 which doesn't include pamphlets or food magazines. I've been collecting cookbooks since I can remember beginning with yard sale and church cookbooks when I was a teenager. My mother had a copy of Betty Crocker that I remember vividly; it must have been her go-to source for recipes because the pages were spotted and falling out from years of use.

My collection includes many newer titles but older ones too -- from Ottolenghi's Plenty to the 1944 edition of Elena's Famous Mexican and Spanish Recipes by Elena Zelayeta and so many more in between. I could write pages about my favorites and the things I've learned from reading and experimenting with the recipes that intrigued me. These cookbooks are like old friends that I can check in with from time to time and be happily entertained.

I especially love cookbooks that are not just collections of recipes, but cookbooks that can be read like a good novel. Food writers like Laurie Colwin, Elizabeth David and M.F.K. Fisher have entertained me and taught me so much about cooking and eating well; to them I owe a debt of gratitude.

If I had to chose favorites, they would be the binders of recipes I've assembled over the years: collected from cookbooks, magazines, cooking classes and a few I developed myself. These are the tried and true recipes that I rely on time and again.

Until tomorrow... must go check on my bread dough.