Doug peeling and seeding Iberian cayenne peppers.Mixed with salt and garlic. We will purée in a few weeks after it sours. This is what we’ll use in beef tartare. The Iberians are nice because they give nice color and some heat without being too hot.
Conveniently, this year Chris and Aeros’s tomatoes were ready the first week of September, which is good timing because it is typically a slower period for us. It keeps the kitchen crew busy instead of cutting their hours.
The PM crew washes and cores the tomatoes the night before. The AM crew comes in early to blanch, peel, and seed them.
Once the tomatoes are peeled and seeded, we take the skins and put them through the Squeezo, which will yield about 16-20 quarts of additional pulp.
After we cook all the tomatoes, we puree them and cool them. 300# of Roma tomatoes yields around 100 quarts of sauce and juice. (More about the juice later.)
The next morning we can the tomatoes. We could have done it the day before, but by that point in the day the PM crew is coming in, and it just makes more sense to break up the process into two days.
This is tomato water. After we’ve seeded the tomatoes, we put the seeds and liquid through a chinoise and let the liquid settle over night. The next day we carefully ladle the tomato water from the top, after all the solids have gone to the bottom. We end up with this clear liquid which is amazing for poaching fish in. We never seem to have enough of this.
Low and behold, we found some straights. “Straights”are the straight part of the garlic scape that we cut off, since they can sometimes be woody and not great for cooking up. We didn’t really know what to do with them, but we didn’t want to just through them away either. Thankfully, they lasted forever in the walk-in, and we shredded them up in the robot coupe and added it to some of the cabbage.
Will it be good? Who knows? We’ll let you know in a few weeks.
Bryan Greenawalt is an important link between Pittsburgh and a community of Amish farmers in Somerset County. Each week in the summer, and just about every other week in the winter, Bryan visits a network of farms and picks up things to bring to the Saturday East Liberty farmer’s market, the one right next to Home Depot. It’s the city’s longest running and only indoor farmer’s market.
I’ve gone out to Somerset many times with Bryan over the years, and every time something fruitful comes from it. I think it was seven years or so ago when I first met Sam and Nettie, one of Bryan’s biggest suppliers. I asked them if they’d ever heard of Shaker dried corn before, and they hadn’t. I told them it was dehydrated sweet corn and left thinking that they weren’t interested in doing it.
Three months later, Bryan showed up to the market with a five gallon bucket of Shaker corn. It was a pleasant surprise. Sam and Nettie had had a neighbor fashion a homemade stove top corn-dehydrator, and had been dehydrating corn for the entire months of July and August. It takes about 24 hours for the corn to properly dehydrate.
We’d tried dehydrating corn before in our electric dehydrator, but the Shaker corn from Sam and Nettie was a completely different thing: golden yellowish brown with a nutty aroma, and the texture of fresh corn when rehydrated overnight. I don’t know why theirs is so good, but it probably has something to do with the steady radiant heat of their wood stoves.
One of the great things about working with this particular Amish community, is that the scale most of their farms operate on is a good fit for our needs. For example, when we asked them to grow Tarbais beans for us, they were able to do it. We only use around 150# or so a season, which isn’t enough for a typical farmer to bother with, but it worked on Sam and Nettie’s scale. One of their neighbors grows chervil, summer savory, and epazote for us. It’s only a few pounds or so of herbs a week, but Bryan tells me they’re happy to do it.
Bryan asks me each spring what we’re looking for at Legume. Three years ago, I told him we wanted haricot verts, the tiny little French green beans which I absolutely adore. I picked out a variety from a seed catalog and gave Bryan the information. Four months later, Bryan showed up with a nice box of beautiful green beans. I took one bite and it was leather. I’d failed to mention that the beans needed to be picked really small.
Last year around this time, Bryan came with haricot verts again, and this time they were perfect. The next week, however, they were too big again, and not useable for the restaurant. But since they’d gone through the trouble of growing them, I bought a couple bushel anyways which we ate at staff meal over the next couple of weeks. (If you want people to grow things for you, you need to buy their food, even if its not perfect.)
When Bryan asked me if I wanted anything this year, I didn’t mention haricot verts. I’d given up. I didn’t want to ask these Amish guys to grow something we might not purchase, but low and behold, Bryan showed up with a bushel of perfect haricot verts this past Saturday. I’ll be really excited if they’re perfect next week too.
I really appreciate this relationship we have with this community, and am thankful for Bryan for making it happen. Most of the exotic local things we use throughout the year come from him: black walnuts, ground cherries, asparagus, red currants, quince, fresh shelling beans no one else seems to grow around here, sunchokes, over-wintered parsnips and salsify, grapes, and a few other things I’m probably forgetting right now. This spring Sam and Nettie planted some seabuckthorn plants, per my request, after I learned about it in Russia a few years ago. It’ll take a number of years before they produce fruit, but it’ll be worth the wait.
The arrival of cherries marks begins the time of the year when fruit options are plentiful. Blueberries and stone fruits aren’t too far behind, which will soon be followed by melons and grapes, and then apples and pears before you know it.
Then nothing but apples for seven and a half months.
Cherry season season was made extra special this year given the fact that there was crop failure in our region last year. We got a few from Maryland to get us by last year, but they weren’t the same as Kistaco’s, which has the best flavor. I’m not sure what the variety is, but it’s ideal for sour cherry pie and preserves.
Sometimes we get so excited about certain things around here that we put way more energy into preserving them than in actually serving them fresh. I suppose part if this is because I am a collector (some might say a hoarder) at heart. It’s fun preparing an entire season’s worth of jars ready for winter, and then seeing all of them sitting on the shelves in the fall.
Lately, however, we’re trying to enjoy things fresh in season and preserving less. This year we made more sour cherry pies than ever. We made sour cherry gastrique for the walleye dish we were serving, as well as a sauce of sour cherries, cider vinegar reduction, and goat demi glace which we served with tallow-aged goat rib chops.
But don’t worry: plenty of cherries made it to jars, mostly in the form of jam, which we’ll use as a base for a sauce for duck confit this fall. We put away around ten jars of cherry pie filling too, a Legume cult favorite, which we’ll serve sometime in January in order to (hopefully) drum up some business when it’s slow.
When I was a small boy, I used to watch our neighbor Gibby wander around our lawn searching for dandelion greens, which he’d dig up with a very large flathead screw driver looking thing. My parents thought it was a little strange, but the image stuck with me and inspires this salad. Wild dandelion greens from Chris and Aeros, jowl bacon vinaigrette, Parmesan, 5-minute poulet egg, and the last of last season’s giardiniera. It’s pretty much the best salad we make all year.