Author: lisareeder

(Photo by beyondtheflavor.com)

In the United States, duck has been a traditional autumn and early winter food because that is the appropriate time to pull it from the sky with a gun and some luck. The happy hunter would enjoy an animal robed in fat from easy summer eating.

In late fall, the birds have finished rearing their young and are moving to warmer regions for the winter. A duck’s fat keeps it buoyant and warm throughout a cold winter on cold water; naturally, fat content peaks in fall after summertime plenty. Remember the hunter in the duck blind, earflaps down and rifle poised? Any ducks brought home in autumn would have been plucked and scalded, some fat trimmed off (see “Use the whole bird,” right), roasted and eaten, organs transformed into a pâté, or terrine, stock made from the bones, and any leftover meat would have been preserved in fat (confit) or added to other savory bits for sausage making.

RECIPE FOR SUCCESS Use the whole bird Locally grown duck may seem expensive when considered by the pound, but consider the work that goes into each bird, and perspective is restored. Poultry growers feed, water, and rotate their birds daily. Thanks to an on-farm poultry processing exemption available in Virginia, many small- to medium-scale growers process their own birds, literally dedicating the birds to our tables. Insides If the innards are still in the duck, keep them for stock (neck, see below) or to stockpile (for foie gras or terrine). Outsides Shave the bird of some of its fat—but leave a little for self-basting and crisping. Keep the trimmed fat for rendering. Rub sea salt and citrus rind on the outside of the bird. Roast on a rack at 400 degrees; turn down the temperature when the bird goes in. To render duck fat for later use: Drizzle liquid in the bottom of the roasting pan (wine, cognac, broth or water) so that the dripping fat doesn’t burn. Cube the shaved fat, and drop into the roasting pan. When the skin is crisp, the duck is done; transfer to a platter to rest for up to 30 minutes. Pour the rendered fat into a ramekin or ovenproof bowl. Fat can be strained or rendered again to remove savory bits; cook gets to eat them. Remains Keep the bones! If greasy, roast them again to caramelize the fat, then make broth. Great for dressing Asian noodles, as a rich braising liquid for greens, or for making dirty rice or gumbo or jambalaya.

If you’re not a hunter, the season for duck is now, because the birds hit the pasture in Central Virginia in spring, and are ready for the table by early summer. Ducks? Here? I thought we only had chickens…

The concept of pastured poultry and backyard chickens seems to be sweeping the country—and ducks can fit into our modern world as well. Indeed, many producers of pastured chicken also keep other birds for meat and eggs, including quail, guinea hen, turkeys, geese, bantam chickens, and ducks.

Loosely described, the current model for producing pastured poultry was made famous by Polyface Farm in the Shenandoah Valley. They use low lying, portable enclosures that corral and protect the birds while offering them a fresh patch of pasture each day. Recently some growers in Central Virginia are raising ducks for eggs and for meat, and learning that they too have an important role to play on an integrated, intensively managed farm.

If you are accustomed to purchasing and preparing free-range chicken, expanding your repertoire to include duck will be a welcome stretch. The birds commingle just fine (or so the over-the-fence wisdom dictates). Chickens resemble a triangle, point down, when hunting and pecking; ducks are slender and diagonally upright when waddling around, with a high breast and lots of momentum. Once the bird is dressed (or undressed), it poses distinct but similar challenges for culinary preparation.

Ducks are swathed in a layer of fat just beneath their skin; it is thickest on their breast, which serves to insulate them in cold water and keep them bobbing along on the surface. Chickens have hardly any visible fat, with most of it residing in the skin, which is very easy to remove. But when animals and birds are raised on high quality feed, and forage for bugs and grass and trace minerals, their fat is something to be celebrated, not condemned.

Our kitchen columnist, Lisa Reeder, is an educator and advocate for local and regional food production in Central Virginia. She received chef’s training in New York and currently works in Farm Services and Distribution at the Local Food Hub.

(File photo)

Bread is made from grain, liquid, leavener, and love. Laugh if you will at the last ingredient, but without love in bread, you may find yourself in the bread aisle of the supermarket, attempting to choose between Limp Insipid (made with high fructose corn syrup) and Limp Insipid with Added Fiber (also made with high fructose corn syrup).

Travel to the bakery department of the same supermarket, and (while the packaging and the shapes may advertise variety) in reality all the breads are practically the same. In addition to stabilizers, substitutes, and preservatives, these breads are composed of flour that is splintered, denatured, bleached, and then enriched and mixed with water, salt substitutes, and high fructose corn syrup.

Let’s back up for a moment.

Almost any grain can be made into bread. Not coincidentally, almost any grain can be made into porridge of some sort. What’s bread got that porridge doesn’t have? Well, one can carry it and share it with others, and a nice crusty bread will stay fresh on the inside for a couple of days.

Grains are seeds, so within them are contained all of the necessary elements to sprout and sustain life—protein, fat, and carbohydrate. When grains are ground into flour, the fat and protein is removed from its protective coating of carbohydrate and exposed to air and moisture, signaling the seed to sprout. If conditions aren’t conducive to sprouting, the protein will begin to decay and the fat will go rancid (typically in a matter of months).

RECIPE FOR SUCCESS Croutons Nothing could be simpler than making croutons from fresh bread. Begin with a delicious bread that has oil content, fat content, and flavor, and your crouton-making becomes as simple as cubing the bread and leaving it at room temperature for eight hours or so. Fresh croutons like these will be perfect in a salad dressed in vinaigrette or a light creamy dressing, because they are still somewhat absorbent and yet crunchy enough to complement lettuces. For true homemade croutons, cube the bread and let it stale for a day, then toss it in olive oil, salt and pepper (try dribbling the olive oil down the sides of the bowl as you toss the cubes—better distribution, and the trick works for popcorn as well). Should you be inclined to include fresh herbs, chop them and then add them to the croutons when they come out of the oven, tossing again to distribute. If you are following a recipe for stuffing, consider that your high quality bread will be “thirstier” than the White Won- der, and adjust the quantity of broth or water for moistening.—L.R.

It is the carbohydrate component (separated from the other two) that has excellent capacity for longer-term storage, but it is the fat and the protein that balance absorption of the carbohydrates within the human system—remove them and you have removed much of the nutrition and all of the character of the flour.

Breads can be made from whole grains that are freshly ground. They will have a toothier texture, a stronger aroma, and likely be more aggressively seasoned so that the full flavor of the whole grain flour is balanced by other strong flavors. In general, whole grain doughs require more liquid and a lower, slower cooking time.

Water is the most common liquid component, but breads are also crafted from dough moistened with beer and milk. The liquid component serves to link together long chains of carbohydrates, and in the case of wheat flours, “develop” the texture and integrity of the loaf. As the dough expands in the heat of the oven, it is rich gluten development that allows it to puff up, solidify, and hold its splendid shape.

The most common leavener in bread is yeast, which is actually a living organism that exhales bubbles of lighter-than-air carbon dioxide. A well-developed crust encapsulates these bubbles and allows the crumb of the bread to expand; it also “catches” it when the temperature comes back down and the yeast is no longer active. Other leaveners include butter, eggs and cream (the fat expands as the temperature rises), plus the magical (chemical) combination of baking soda and baking powder.

The responsibility of bread craftsmanship is a weighty matter, and always requires physical labor, attention to detail, and the ability to adjust for environmental changes in temperature and humidity. That’s where the love comes in. A great bread is an outgrowth of its place and its people—Middle Eastern flatbreads for scooping stews on communal plates, the crusty French baguette strapped onto a bicycle like firewood, soft dinner rolls at Grandma’s house for Thanksgiving.

It is comforting to know that here among our neighbors are professional Makers of Bread, and that the dough is rising even now. Local bakeries and home bakers abound here in Central Virginia, so treat yourself to a few loaves of great bread (ask for freezing guidance!) and then play with them in the kitchen. Charlottesville City Market begins again this month (hooray!) and handmade breads, sweets, and even bagels and donuts are there for the eating.

Paying homage to the pepper

The long, strong days of sunshine are slipping away, and nighttime falls silent as the insects finish their summertime symphony. Every environmental cue carries one message to the plant world: FINISH WHAT YOU STARTED.  If you haven’t bloomed yet, bloom. If you need to be pollinated—you better find a bee. If your seeds are ready, ripen and swell and change colors and split, fall or explode—whatever it is, make your play and get those seeds into the ground.  

As temperatures start falling into the 50s and 40s, peppers of all shapes and sizes will suddenly and miraculously ripen to warm reds, brilliant yellows and oranges, and even a rich purple-black.

Hot peppers and sweet peppers are all part of the genus Capsicum, a diverse and established branch of the New World Nightshade family that has been stinging the human palate since 3500 BC. The flavor of Capsicum so reminded him of black pepper (Piper family, no relation) that Mr. Christopher Columbus himself dubbed New World peppers pimenta and pimentao.  

By his arrival in 1492, peppers had already made their way throughout North and South and Central America, with regional cuisines cropping up to take advantage of their flavor and tenacity. Upon oral ingestion, capsaicin raises the heart rate and causes perspiration, which in turn discharges heat through evaporation and lowers the body temperature.  Aside from this heat relief (and the flavor buzz), cooking with hot peppers retards the growth of harmful microorganisms at room temperature and under refrigeration. In a pinch, even a topical application of capsaicin has been reported to lessen the chance of infection.

Clever peppers have also harnessed the animal kingdom to do their bidding!  When they mature, peppers transform from a dull green (that matches their foliage) to a brighter, eye-catching color. This is a signal to the animal world that the pepper is sweet and ripe (oh, and by the way, I need someone to move my seeds around for me, toots, and sure, wrap it up in something safe like manure, would ya?) But really the ideal seed-spreader would have a wider range than, say, a raccoon, and would just ingest the seeds whole (without grinding them too much). In fact, birds lack the pain receptor that registers capsaicin and they don’t have teeth, so they do the bulk of the seed spreading for peppers.

But what about sweet bell peppers? Aha. The sweet red bell peppers (and their immature counterparts, green bell peppers) carry a recessive gene that inhibits the formation of capsaicin. Their palatability to humans makes them the most widely cultivated and consumed pepper in the world; they need our protection to thrive, however, because they lack that certain something that keeps the varmints away. 

Peppers can be eaten raw, lightly cooked, or fully cooked. They can be roasted, which also involves steaming, peeling, and de-seeding before use. Roasting is the best treatment for very firm peppers with a thick skin and thick flesh, like bell peppers and Carmen peppers. A mature red jalapeño can be smoked to become a chipotle; chipotles are most often found mixed into adobo sauce (which is a pureed tomato sauce). Peppers with thin flesh can be most easily dried, like cayennes and poblanos (the latter becoming an ancho when fully dried). From dried peppers come pepper flakes and chili powders of all sorts, plus taco and salsa mixes (and there’s no reason you can’t make that yourself).  For home storage in an era of electricity, peppers can be cut and blanched and frozen, or cooked and pureed into a sauce that can be canned or frozen.—Lisa Reeder

Our kitchen columnist, Lisa Reeder, is an educator and advocate for local and regional food production in Central Virginia. She received chef’s training in New York and currently works in Farm Services and Distribution at the Local Food Hub. 

Pepper survival guide

The best way to prevent pain and tissue irritation from spicy peppers is to wear rubber gloves when handling them—including harvesting or handling the whole peppers, which may have some capsaicin on the exterior.

When cooking with fiery peppers, practice PERFECT sanitation in the kitchen. That is, don’t touch anything but the food, and when switching between tasks clean the knife, the cutting board, and the counter and then wash your hands. If you are concerned about capsaicin, try using your nose to detect its presence on hands, apron, and dishes.

Because capsaicin is hydrophobic, washing with soap and water to combat a real scorcher is less than effective. Whether you ingest it, or it accidentally touched your face, your body, your pet or your child (not recommended) be prepared to flush the area with oil or milk (oil to bind to it and milk to neutralize it). If that isn’t practical, dip a paper towel in oil to swab the area, discard, and then repeat the process with milk. A set of un-spicy hands will really be useful when disaster strikes.

Uncertain of a pepper’s Scoville units, but willing to give it a whirl anyway?  Start by leaving the pepper WHOLE and infusing a dish with it (a stirfry with rice, a soup, or perhaps a salsa). If the dish is too mild, split the pepper a little, stir it a few times, and then try. And while you are testing it, don’t let anyone eat the pepper!

When in Romas

The humble Roma tomato is easy to overlook at summertime markets. Let’s face facts—you’ve bypassed them a million times in the supermarket, so red and cheerful (even in the dark night of winter) that they seem to be imitating wax fruit. Amid the motley, knobbly heirloom tomatoes (Mr. Stripey! Cherokee Purple!) and the facile, sweet-as-candy cherry and grape tomatoes (Snow White! Black Cherry!), the lowly Roma may not even be on the table, but instead rests quietly in a box on the ground or in the trunk, patiently waiting for a kind soul to give it a good home in a glass jar.

recipe for success Making Roma sauce on the grill • Check your propane supply—you’ll want to run the grill for two to three hours. • Choose your vessel—NO ALUMINUM OR CAST IRON. Ceramic must be rated for direct heat up to 500 degrees; enamelware is the best option. • Create a buffer from the heat to avoid burning the bottom. A pizza stone or oven rack (or extra grill rack) atop the grill rack will work. • Verify that the grill lid will close with the vessel and lid inside. Make necessary adjustments BEFORE putting ingredients into the vessel. • Cut Roma tomatoes in half (removing the small stem end) or in quarters. Add oil. Add to taste (some, not all): onions, garlic, shallot, bay leaf, ginger, curry, cardamom, pimenton, chile flakes, black pepper, salt, or balsamic vinegar.  • Light the grill and bring to a temperature of 250 degrees or so. • Keep two clean, thick dish towels and a long-handled spoon (wood is good as it won’t conduct heat) next to the grill.  • Moderate sauce stirring required; if sauce is watery after one hour, remove vessel lid. Remember that the steam will be very hot—watch your arm hair!

Roma tomatoes are cylindrical in shape, with thick skin and pulp and a low water and seed content. Their vines are of the determinate variety, meaning that the tomatoes mature in one huge crop (up to 200 tomatoes per 4′ tall plant!) and then yield no more. 

Commercial tomato growers and processors cherish the prolific bearing habit and the proverbial “thick skin” of the Roma: The cylindrical shape withstands mechanical harvesting and packing, and shipping, and processing, plus it yields more pulp and less liquid per pound than round tomatoes. Finally, guess which tomato has a higher natural sugar content (and less acid) than other tomatoes? Be it ever so humble, there’s no tomato like a Roma for making and marketing ketchup and pizza sauce.

But wait, wait, wait—as so often happens, the exploitation of the Roma tomato is a product of our commercial food system. In fact, the very traits that have led to its overexposure are the selfsame reasons why you must take the time to get to know your Roma. 

In addition to yielding excellent sauces and pastes, Roma tomatoes are well-suited for use in fresh salsas and salads, and can be dehydrated with excellent results. They can even be sliced in half (remove the small stem end!) and frozen “on their backs,” then piled into freezer bags for use this winter. 

But the true transformation of the Roma happens in a slow-cooked sauce. Sweet pulp and hearty, meaty flavor combine to create an addictive substance—not unlike ketchup, really—that is an asset to any cook. Mix it into hamburgers or glaze a meatloaf with it! Mix it with mayonnaise and spread it on a sandwich! Sprinkle it with Old Bay and dip your onion rings in it! 

To prepare a tomato sauce that showcases the sweet, meaty flavor of Roma tomatoes, it is necessary either to peel the tomatoes (at the beginning) or to make use of a moulin or food mill (at the end). You see, the Roma has thick skin, including the interior “walls” that surround the seed cavities, which provide body and flavor and volume to the sauce, but must actually be separated from the chewy exterior skin. 

To remove skins at the beginning of cooking, immerse the tomatoes in boiling water for 15 to 30 seconds, then immediately into iced water to halt cooking. This rapid temperature change should cause them to expand and then contract, splitting the skin and drawing it away from the flesh. Once the tomatoes are cool, gently pile them in a colander to drain and dry (so that the sauce isn’t overly watery). When a sharp paring knife is used to remove the stem end of each tomato, the rest of the skin should be easy to remove. It is prudent to make your incision over a large ceramic or glass bowl so that any juicy drippings are captured and go right into the sauce.

Once the tomatoes have been freed from their skins, there are a couple of decisions to make. Firstly, how will you store this sauce? If making a sauce to store in water-processed jars in your pantry, please follow a recipe and instructions specifically for that project. (The Ball Company, maker of Ball canning jars, has a number of online resources at www.freshpreserving.com). If you prefer to have frozen tomato sauce on hand all winter, free up some freezer space and use numerous smaller containers fitting two to four servings each.

When it’s hot in the kitchen, consider making your Roma sauce on a propane grill—and of course the project can be combined with another grilling project to take advantage of some time and energy savings. Any smoke from other items being grilled will only make your Roma sauce more delicious.

Our kitchen columnist, Lisa Reeder, is an educator and advocate for local and regional food production in Central Virginia. She received chef’s training in New York and currently works in Farm Services and Distribution at the Local Food Hub.

If strawberry season came and went as something of a surprise to you, the natural world has but one message for you: WAKE UP. The Year in Fruit is an annual parade that arrives in town, marches through, and then is gone until next spring. Each fruit is a group that marches together, with a clear color scheme that, upon closer inspection, yields a fantastic variety of shapes, sizes and complexions.

As the strawberries taper off, spring raspberries arrive—but just a few—and then cherries surge by, all at once, dark red and sunny yellow, long-stemmed and short-stemmed and sour and sweet and…gone. But oh, here comes hope in the shape of a peach, smallish and light yellow, firm and fuzzy, followed by peachy clingstones, juicy and fragrant, and then the brassy, buxom freestones, so sweet that they gush when you look at them.

Amid the cherries, a purple plum might appear, waving and vying for your attention; amid the peaches, some blackberries and blueberries beckon. Tender figs might march with the apples, stately and confident that they reign supreme in Central Virginia, and the shriveled, frost-bitten persimmons conclude the procession and close the fruit year.

Because fruit is a plant’s means of reproducing, the timing of harvest cannot easily be manipulated by humans; somehow, cherries know to turn bright red just when adult and adolescent birds are on the wing, looking for food, and persimmons finally fall from the tree when deer are mating and moving around, scanning for food and spreading the seeds in their droppings.

Making cherries last

 

According to the statewide website Buy Local, Virginia (www.buylocalvirginia.org), there are at least 12 U-Pick cherry orchards in Virginia, and an untold number of backyard and municipal specimens that might yield delicious fruit. Either way, the trick is to take advantage of cherry season the moment it arrives, and to do everything in your power to preserve it for the rest of the year.

First step is to go out and get some fruit, and to eat as much as you possibly can (and then give some to your friends and neighbors). In general, don’t wash fruit before you store it—wash it before you eat it (otherwise you’re encouraging microbial growth). Store fresh cherries in the refrigerator in glass or plastic containers with the lids slightly ajar, or covered with a clean, dry kitchen towel. For fun, soak some clean, pitted cherries in a mild wine vinegar or vinaigrette to make a fun, fruity salad dressing. Drop a few in a bottle of brandy, or vodka, or even Amaretto and invent a summertime, cherry-red cocktail.

When you’ve had your fill of fresh cherries, go out and get more fruit—it’s time to think of the future. Of course there’s jam and jelly, and one can even make pickled cherries; consider perfecting your fresh sour cherry pie recipe, and then prepare some extra batches of filling to store in the freezer (hey, you can even freeze pie crust, and you’ll be glad you did).

With any miscellaneous leftover cherries, cook them lightly, then separate the fruit from the juice: Freeze the fruit to use in autumn when preparing a sauce for duck, venison, or pork; use the juice to make salad dressing, or to drizzle on ice cream or squirt into a spritzer.

You can freeze cherries and other smallish fruit like berries by spreading them out on a cookie sheet (but check that it fits in your freezer before you begin!). The fruit will be frozen solid in a matter of hours, so dump it into a labeled freezer bag and roll out another batch. Dehydrated cherries would make a great addition to scones and cookies, and can also be rehydrated in oatmeal and cereal.

Our kitchen columnist, Lisa Reeder, is an educator and advocate for local and regional food production in Central Virginia. She received chef’s training in New York and currently works in Farm Services and Distribution at the Local Food Hub.

A cherry-flavored menu

 

COCKTAILS

Easy: Cherry Dark and Stormy. Soak cherries in ginger beer for a few hours; drizzle the infusion over dark rum and ice. Don’t forget to impale cherries on sword-stirrers if you can!

Advanced: Cherry Bounce. Recipes abound; the best ones will include some additional fermentation of the cherries and sugar that will result in the bubbles that put “bounce” in the name, but will also take six to 12 weeks to complete. Maybe for Labor Day?

APPETIZER

Easy: Cheese and olive plate, fea-turing aged and fresh goat cheese, cherries, almonds and mild olives.

SALAD

Easy: Spinach and mixed leaf lettuces with fresh chevre, hazelnuts and pitted cherries in tarragon vinaigrette.

ENTRÉE

Easy: Barbecue-glazed broiled chicken. Add reduced cherry juice to a spicy BBQ sauce for a deep red flavor and a sweet glaze.

Easy: Couscous. Include dried cherries in the couscous cooking liquid, then fluff with olive oil, fresh herbs and lemon juice.

Advanced: Seared saddle of rabbit with cherry sauce.

DESSERT

Easy: Good ol’ American cherry pie. Don’t forget the lattice top (it’s easier than it looks!).

Advanced: Cherries Jubilee. A dessert of sweet, dark red cherries, sugar and kirsch that is set briefly alight, then spooned over ice cream.

DIGESTIF

Kirsch/kirschwasser (liquor made from cherry juice and cherry pits, distilled into a clear brandy), served chilled (on a warm night) or warmed slightly in the hands (on a cool night, with a fire).

 

 

 

Spring siren
The strawberry is a sign of spring in full swing. Her neat appearance, modest curves and sweet, enticing aroma create quite a stir at City Market—everyone wants to smell, and touch, and move closer to this bright berry. Children cannot be called off. She catches your eye, peeking out from beyond the spinach and between the leeks. You push forward, elbowing innocent bystanders, stumbling against a stroller, anxious now that she may be disappearing before your admiring eyes. Perhaps you notice her adornment of a simple white flower, a delicate stem, an emerald leaf that perfectly sets off her ruby red complexion.
You draw closer, anticipating the rows of pint and quart containers, knocking aside the last apples, the bunches of kale and chard, even the upright, rigid leeks lined up like sentries. Her intoxicating perfume reaches out for you like beckoning arms, drawing you past the price tag and deeper, deeper, deeper into her beauty. In a moment she presses against your lips, her tender texture yielding, melting, collapsing into you. This kiss is the kiss of a springtime lover, returning year after year for a brief liaison that leaves you momentarily satisfied, and longing for more.

Today’s cultivated strawberry was hybridized in Brittany, France in the 1740s. It combines the large and abundant fruit of Fragaria chiloensis (native to South America) with the superior aroma and flavor of Fragaria virginiana (native to North America, and still present in the woods and fencerows of Central Virginia). This diminutive foremother blooms and bears fruit in the spring as well, and should certainly be sought and exalted—but the pithy consistency is a drawback, and one could spend all day wriggling underneath shrubs and fences to collect enough to make a single jar of jam.

Modern science to the rescue! Nowadays there are hybrids to suit many different purposes—not all of them noble. For instance, there is a variety that’s a heavy bearer of very large fruit that can be harvested underripe, and then shipped to ripen along the way.
Meanwhile, most U-Pick strawberry operations would choose an array of varieties in an attempt to prolong the season. For instance, including a portion of a Short Day bloomer would indicate an earlier start to the season; including a June Bearing variety would provide quantity in the late spring weather, when folks are ready to pack up the kids and make a day of it. Home gardeners and diversified family farms usually select one of several Everbearing varieties, which stay viable from spring until fall but tend to produce the most in the mild weather that accompanies spring and fall.

Kitchen skills

Berry wise
Strawberries are susceptible to fungus and mildew, but require copious amounts of water to produce fruit in quantity. Ideal berry days will have some rain and plenty of sun to dry the leaves and fruit before they begin to rot; berries picked when they are wet will begin to degrade very quickly, even if refrigerated.

Commercial berry producers have come up with a system called plasticulture that is observed by the U-Pick producers here in Central Virginia; plasticulture relies on a barrier of black plastic on top of mounded rows of berry plants. The plastic suppresses weeds, and covers irrigation tape or tubes, meaning the roots get the moisture they love, while the berries will only get spritzed by Mother Nature (who also has the ability to dry them). Berry crops are almost always treated with fungicide of some sort, while smaller growers might be more likely to go organic on berries and leave the yield up to chance.

The best berry is not refrigerated. I repeat: The best berry is not refrigerated. Eat it immediately, or store it at a cool room temperature—but still eat it immediately. If the berries are for a dessert or a salad, squeezing some lemon over the cut pieces will heighten flavor and draw out the juice of the fruit—or try an aged balsamic vinegar.

Our kitchen columnist, Lisa Reeder, is a chef and local foods advocate and consultant. Read more about her at http://alocalnotion.word press.com.

Recipe for success

Easy strawberry cake
Ideal for Mother’s Day, Memorial Day, or Father’s Day.

1-2 quarts fresh strawberries, room temperature
1 tsp. sugar, or 1 tsp. honey
2 pints whipping cream, plus salt and vanilla and strawberry liquid
1 8" roundcake (any white, yellow, or sponge cake of good quality will do)

Set aside a few perfectly cute berries to garnish the cake. Hull and slice the remaining berries in half or in quarters, capturing all of the juice that you can and dropping them into a large glass or ceramic bowl. Add sugar or honey, and swirl gently in the bowl to combine. Keep this at room temperature for a few hours before preparing the cream.

Using a chilled bowl and whisk, or an electric mixer (if you must!), add to the whipping cream a scant pinch of fine salt, plus a few drops of vanilla. Drizzle the juice from the berries into the cream, then whip cream to soft peaks, and return to refrigerator.
To assemble the shortcake, first cut your cake of choice in half HORIZONTALLY. This will take a long knife and some patience; the intent is to use the soft “inner” cake as the vehicle for the strawberries and cream. So, the bottom piece remains the bottom piece as it is. Spread about half of the whipped cream on the cake, then about half of the strawberries (including some juice).

Flip the remaining layer of cake so that the fluffy “inner” cake is on top; plop the rest of the whipped cream in the middle, then squoosh it so that it barely begins to slip over the sides of the cake (and the soft middle section will begin to ooze out as well—this is a good thing). Add the last of the berries on top of the cream, and drizzle with any remaining liquid. Some shavings of chocolate, or a grating of nutmeg or of a chocolate espresso bean, will only improve the celebration.

This cake is best about two hours after assembling it; protect from tiny fingers, but leave it at room temperature.