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ROBERT BONNELL, OUR CORRESPONDENT IN FRANCE, SAYS YES

Editor’s Note: Truffles, those little knobs of fungus, have long been a prized ingredient in French and Italian cooking, and in recent years have begun to appear on more and more high-end American restaurant menus. Are they really worth their high price and do they live up to all the hype?  Robert Bonnell takes us on a visit to a winter truffle market in France, and explains what the fuss is all about. And yes, you read the above photo correctly, those lovely little buggers will cost you 700 € (about $1,000) a kilogram. Robert reports:

The black truffle, tuber melanosporum, is a devilishly expensive fungus which lives underground, associated with the root systems of oaks and several other trees. In France, truffles are harvested from late November until early March and are considered a great delicacy, their unique taste and aroma making them an exalted addition to a variety of dishes.

Commonly associated with the more southerly French regions of Périgord and Provence, black truffles are also found in the southern Loire Valley. Some are still found wild in the woods, but many come from plantations of truffle oaks, grown from seedlings whose roots were infused with truffle spores. But even in the plantations, a truffle hunter needs help to find them. Once performed by pigs, locating truffles is now the work of dogs. (As one purveyor of truffles says, it’s not easy to talk a pig into getting into the car.) At any rate, an effective truffle-hunting dog at work is a wonder to behold.

Every winter a number of truffle vendors from throughout the region take their bounty to the Marché aux Truffes (Truffle Market) in Marigny-Marmande, about sixty kilometers (thirty-five miles) south of the town of Tours. Those with an image in mind of a colorful village filled with old geezers in berets walking their prize truffle pigs may be disappointed. You already know about the lack of pigs. And there’s nothing extraordinarily picturesque about Marigny-Marmande, especially in the dead of winter when the market takes place. The vendors’ tables are set up in the town’s nondescript 1960’s-style salle polyvalente (a multi-purpose room, but it sounds better in French). Those who will not be disappointed with the market are people who want to learn more about truffles and the hunters who go out looking for them on chilly winter days.

The market takes place from 8 AM until 1:30 PM every December 21 and 28, plus the second and fourth Saturdays in January and the second Saturday in February. The December markets are the largest affairs, with up to a dozen truffle vendors inside the building plus numerous stands inside and outside selling baked goods, wine, cheese, sausages, jams and jellies, truffle oak seedlings and more. There’s also a truffle-based lunch available on the December dates with such dishes as truffled lentil soup, boudin blanc sausages sliced lengthwise and filled with a layer of truffles, and even a truffled dessert. The truffle sellers are at the market in January and February, too, but the number of other products on sale is reduced, and there’s no truffle lunch, although there are still truffle snacks. Check out the tartine (open-faced sandwich) stand. Here they sell half a small baguette smeared with butter and chopped truffle. It’s a good way to get into the spirit of things.

If the tartine has whetted your appetite, walk around the room. Each truffle vendor will have one or more baskets of truffles, priced according to category. This year’s prices ranged from 70€ to 90€ per 100 grams (about $26 to $33 per ounce, which is just right for two people). The more spherical the shape of the truffle and the less blemished, the more expensive it is. The top category is called “extra”. Less perfect-looking truffles are relegated to categories I and II. However, this is nothing but a beauty contest since truffles from all three categories taste the same.

The best mode of shopping is to pick up a suitable-looking truffle and smell it (though it’s best to ask the vendor’s permission first). Some of the truffles don’t have much of an aroma; this could be because they were picked too long ago (both the flavor and the aroma start to fade after a few days), or maybe they weren’t all that good to begin with. I go for the truffle with the best and strongest aroma. But, as one vendor puts it, “You must follow your heart.”

The question that will naturally arise is why anyone would spend that kind of money in return for a small hunk of fungus. After all, even though truffles from the Marigny-Marmande market come direct from the people who dug them up and are generally priced below what they would be elsewhere, a one-ounce category II truffle still costs over $25. The answer is that their flavor and aroma are absolutely unique, and if you like them, there’s really no substitute – even truffle oil can’t replace the experience of an real truffle. But even if you’re making one of my favorite truffle recipes, oeufs brouillés à la truffe (truffled scrambled eggs), where the rest of the ingredients – eggs, butter and a little cream – don’t add much to the total cost, this is still going to be a splurge meal.

Here’s the recipe for oeufs brouillés à la truffe for two people: In a double boiler melt 2½ tablespoons of butter. Add six beaten eggs plus a one-ounce truffle, sliced very, very thinly, plus some salt and pepper. Stir constantly with a wooden spoon for about ten minutes, until the eggs are set, but not dry. Remove from the heat. Stir in 1½ tablespoons more butter and two tablespoons cream. Serve as soon as the butter is melted. For best results, store the truffle and the unbroken eggs together in a small, tightly sealed container for three to four days before cooking. This allows the truffle aroma to infuse the eggs.

Admission to the market is free. For more information, contact the Richelieu tourist office at contact@tourisme-richelieu.com.

Patricia Wells has recently released a cookbook called Simply Truffles with recipes for all occasions. For more information plus a couple of recipes, check her website at www.patriciawells.com/books/simply-truffles-by-patricia-wells.

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Robert Bonnell will soon be publishing an ebook reviewing the off-the-beaten-path cave restaurants, hotels, artisans, museums, etc. of France’s Loire Valley.

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Truffle vendor in Marigny-Marmande, France.

Truffle tartines (sandwiches) for sale.

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Oak seedlings whose roots are infused with truffle spores.

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Text and photos by Robert Bonnell.

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For years I hesitated to try making sauerkraut.  I guess I thought the process was too mysterious and difficult. Last year I tried making it for the first time and it came out wonderfully.  What I discovered was, it isn’t difficult at all. Basically, you chop cabbage, add salt, and let it sit.  In a couple of weeks, you have sauerkraut.  O.K., I exaggerate a bit, but truly, it is not complicated.

All right, I hear some of you wondering, “why would I even want to make sauerkraut at all?”  And if you’ve only eaten that mushy stuff out of a jar or can, I don’t blame you.  Take my word for it, fresh, homemade kraut is something else entirely. And nutritionally, it combines the great profile of cruciferous vegetables with the probiotic goodness of all naturally fermented foods. Vern Varona, in his book, Macrobiotics for Dummies, puts it this way: “Researchers have shown that the process of fermenting cabbage produces isothiocyanates, which are known to prevent cancer growth….Sauerkraut also has strong detoxifying properties. Containing plentiful amounts of probiotic bacteria, which create lactic acid, sauerkraut aids digestion by restoring a healthy balance of beneficial bacteria throughout the intestinal tract.” Not convinced? Once made, it’s a convenience food, as it will keep in your fridge for weeks, maybe months, no cooking or further preparation needed. True, it is salty, so think of it as a pickle or a condiment.  Eat it in small quantities, a couple tablespoons at a time. If you’re still worried about salt, give it a rinse. It’s great in sandwiches or as a condiment with rice and other grains. My easy, step-by-step directions are after the jump.

Photos: Top--Cutting the red cabbage. Above--By the fifth day it's already looking like sauerkraut, although still crunchy and only lightly fermented.

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MAKE SAUERKRAUT AT HOME

1. Have your hands, knife, cutting board and bowl especially clean. Wash and pat dry one or more large cabbages (a large cabbage will weigh around four pounds). Use green cabbages if you like, but I use red because the kraut comes out such a striking color.

2. Cut it into quarters, then slice as you would for cole slaw, but don’t cut it quite as fine. Use the cores and all, it  all makes good sauerkraut.

3. Place in a large bowl and add good quality sea salt (use about three tablespoons of salt for every five pounds of cabbage).  I also added a few chopped garlic cloves and the juice of a lemon, but those are optional.

4. Using your hands, work the salt into the cabbage, kind of knead it as you would bread.

5. Place the cabbage in a crock, large glass jar or some other non-reactive container. Tamp it down with your fists, or a potato masher.

6. Insert a plate to almost cover the cabbage. Weigh down the plate.  I used a pitcher filled with water. Cover all with a clean cloth and place in a cool, out-of-the-way corner.

7. After 24 hours, check to see if a watery brine has formed to cover the cabbage. If not, add enough brine so that the cabbage is completely covered. To make a brine, dissolve 1  1/2 tablespoons salt in one quart filtered water and add that to the cabbage until it is covered in brine.

8. Cover again with a towel, and check every day or two.  It is edible at every step of the way.  After a few days it should be a still-crunchy cabbage pickle and after two weeks or so, it should be full-on sauerkraut. If a little scum appears, don’t worry, just skim it off. How fast cabbage ferments depends on a number of factors, temperature primarily, and the reason we prefer to do it in the winter is that cooler temperatures lead to a slower, more even fermentation.

9. Once it’s reached the degree of fermentation you prefer, refrigerate your sauerkraut and enjoy it for weeks.  The sauerkraut juice is also good. Add it to soups, or save it to kickstart your next batch of kraut.

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I inserted a plate slightly smaller than the crock, then weighed it down with a glass pitcher filled with water. It's now sitting in a cool corner fermenting (covered with a clean towel).

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The sauerkraut I made last year looked like this after nine days. It turned out really well.

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It hasn’t entirely sunk in yet, but it seems I’m about to become a home owner. Judy, my realtor, called yesterday to tell me my offer on this 1045-square foot house built in 1932 has been accepted. After loosing out on two others, I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever find my house.  It seems that the houses I’m drawn to, a lot of other people like as well (there were six offers on this house). Still, at just over $100,000, and with interest rates as low as they are, it will be much less costly to buy than to continue to rent. So, knock on wood, if everything goes well, we are scheduled to close escrow on February 17th.

Like most things in life, this house has its upside and its down. The exterior could use sprucing up; the house needs a new roof, and the garage, roofless, is possibly a tear down. On the other hand, the interior is  freshly-painted and move-in ready. There are great hard word floors throughout, and the home’s original character is very much intact. Also, there’s a new foundation, and unusual for California, a walk-out basement. The kitchen, did I mention the kitchen?  It’s more than I need, but I’ll take it–beautifully remodeled with spacious granite-topped counters, prodigious Ikea storage, and sunny windows facing east and south. Interesting isn’t it, that the house which has by far the best kitchen of all the houses I’ve seen is the one I’m able to buy? Best of all is the location, location and location.  While it doesn’t have water views, it is on a hill near the marina and waterfront.  From my street, there are views of Mare Island, San Pablo Bay and the hills of Marin. With a little help from my friends, this could be the cosy-est and cutest house in all Vallejo!

What am I feeling?  Amazement and gratitude mostly, and once in a while a little bit of dread at the responsibilities of home ownership. With housing as expensive as it is in the Bay Area, I never thought I could be a home owner. Well into my sixties, this property virgin is about to be a virgin no more. And truthfully, I recognize that I’m not alone in this. To family members who stepped forward to help with the down payment, and to friends who offered advice, encouragement, who said prayers and lite candles, I say a sincere “thank you.” And because my kitchen is also my MacroChef laboratory, I hope to share with all of you what we create there for many years to come. Again I say, “thanks.”

Click here to see more photos of what will be, if all goes well, my new home. I previously posted about my home buying journey here.

Update: I’ve posted more photos that I took during the home inspection, after the jump.

The kitchen, all new and pristine with it's marble tile floor and granite counters, is a bit over the top for a house this modest. However, with tons of counter space and storage, I'm not complaining (need to change the hardware on those cupboards, though). Update: More photos, after the jump.

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Home inspector, John Marshall, in the living room.

View from the living room, through the dining room and into the kitchen. Posing is my realtor, Judy Schilling.

Nice hood, but I'll need to buy a kitchen range. Any suggestions?

View of the front yard, through the front bedroom window.

View of the tear-down garage through the back bedroom window. The yards, both front and rear are a blank slate, meaning there's a lot of work to do.

Even a nice, clean walk-out basement. The stairs lead up to the kitchen.

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Apples are one the oldest and most widely-grown of all plants cultivated by man, and to answer the question posed by my headline: no, apples as such are not endangered, but thousands of apple varieties most definitely are. One hundred years ago, as many as 15,000 varieties of apples were cultivated in the U.S., whereas today, eleven varieties make up 90% of all apples grown commercially. They’re the usual suspects: Fuji, Pink Lady, Red Delicious, Golden Delicious, Gala, Granny Smith, and so on. So, imagine my surprise when I saw these ping pong ball-sized heirloom beauties in the organic section of my local supermarket. Upon doing a little research, I discovered there are two feel-good stories here. One has to do with heirloom apples, the other with the farmers who grew them.

So, what are heirloom apples? You’ve probably seen, bought or possibly even grown heirloom tomatoes, old varieties which were once common, but which have almost disappeared. With apples, it’s the same idea: conserving old varieties keeps us in touch with our cultural history, safeguards genetic diversity, and provides us with a greater choice of tastes, textures, colors and culinary possibilities. Prominent among groups promoting heirloom apples is the Slow Food Movement which has published a wonderful booklet on the subject. In the Bay Area, Slow Food Russian River promotes Gravenstein apples in Sonoma County, where orchards have been declining for decades due to suburbanization and conversion to vineyards.

But, I digress. The crunchy, moist apples I bought are Crimson Gold, a variety developed in the 1940′s by crossing two other heirloom varieties, Yellow Newton and Esopus Spitzenburg, a crab apple. Crimson Golds had all but disappeared by the 1970′s, when they were rediscovered, and now they’re grown in small quantities in a half dozen commercial orchards. With a nice balance of sweet and tart, they are great for eating when you want a little snack, something less than a large apple. They’d be perfect to pack in lunch boxes or to carry in your pocket. I haven’t tried baking them, but, reportedly, they hold up well, maintaining good texture. I think you could simply pull off the stem and bake them whole.

The other feel good part of this story is that they are grown by a quality-conscious, family-owned business, Cuyama Orchards, in California’s Santa Barbara County. Howard and Jean Albano have been growing apples since the 1990′s on a farm 30 miles east of Santa Barbara. At 3,200 foot in elevation, their sixty acres of organic orchards produce well-known varieties such as Pink Lady, Fuji and Gala, but they’re also committed to growing heirloom varieties which they test market at Southern California farmer’s markets.  Recently, they’ve planted 200 trees each of heirloom apples from France and Turkey. Having grown up on a farm, I’m in touch with what a risky life it is, and so, I salute the Albano family for creating a thriving business and for helping to keep alive a part of our cultural heritage which could so easily be lost.

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Those of you who have been following this blog for a while may have noticed that I’m crazy about corn. I’m not entirely sure why, maybe it’s because I was reared on a southern Minnesota corn and soy bean farm and we depended upon that highly productive grain to put food on our table and money in the bank. In any case, today’s recipe showcases cornmeal, along with caramelized onions. True, caramelizing the onions takes a bit of time and patience, but you’ll be rewarded with an addition to the muffins which is moist, sweet and slightly smoky. You could, of course, bake this recipe in a cake pan as cornbread, but it seems to me muffins are more fun to eat, with extra crunchy, golden crust around the edges. Using cupcake papers to line your muffin pan will save you tons of grief at clean-up time and ensure that the muffins pop out easily. Cornbread in any form pairs well with soup, and especially with soup in which beans play a prominent role. Recipe, after the jump…

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Illustration: Corn with both male and female flowers from Köhler’s Medizinal-Pflanzen (via Wikipedia)

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CARAMELIZED ONION CORN MUFFINS

Preheat oven to 375˚ F/ Yields 15 muffins

Dry ingredients:

2 cups cornmeal

1 cup unbleached flour

3/4 cup whole wheat pastry flour

2 teaspoons baking power

1 teaspoon baking soda

pinch of salt

Wet ingredients:

1 medium onion, peeled and thinly sliced

1-2 green onions, trimmed and thinly sliced

1/4 cup olive oil

2 cups soy or rice milk or milk of choice, warmed to room temperature and acidulated by adding 4 teaspoons rice vinegar

1/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon maple syrup

1. Heat a sauté pan and sauté the onion over medium-high heat 2-3 minutes or until wilted. Then turn heat to  low and allow onions to slowly turn golden brown and caramelize. Stir occasionally, and continue cooking 25-30 minutes. Have patience, the whole point is that the longer and more slowly the onions cook, the sweeter and more flavorful they will be (if they seem to being going dry, it’s o.k. to add a few tablespoons of water, cover and steam for a couple of minutes to bring back the moistness).When the onions are nearly ready, sprinkle lightly with salt and stir in the green onion.

2. Measure the dry ingredients into a large mixing bowl. Stir well to combine.

3.When the onions are ready and the milk has curdled slightly, add the oil to the dry ingredients and mix it in.  Then add the maple syrup to the milk and mix that along with the onions into the dry ingredients.  Mix everything well.

4. Have ready a muffin pan lined with cupcake papers. Fill each about 3/4 full with batter.  Then bake in a preheated 375˚ F oven about 20 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the middle comes out clean.

5. Eat while still hot!

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Editor’s Note: My friend Susanne Jensen is a natural foods chef who’s had a long and varied career, including having been both a student and teacher at the Kushi Institute in Massachusetts. Currently, she teaches cooking at Willard Middle School in Berkeley. She’s the one responsible for the delicious ravioli we enjoyed at my open house last week. In this guest post, she shares her insights into making ravioli– her recipes and step-by-step photos are after the jump.

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Making ravioli is something fairly new to me. It started a few years ago, when I had to find a fun and creative bean recipe for my middle school students. We had done bean soups, bean chili, bean burgers and beans for burritos, but needed a new recipe. I came upon White Bean Ravioli in Peter Berley’s book  Modern Vegetarian Kitchen. I purchased a few pasta makers and off we went on a bean ravioli adventure. The students made dough, bean filling, rolled out the dough, stuffed the dough with filling, cut and cooked. At the end we all sat down to a feast of bean ravioli. Even the most reluctant bean eater enjoyed these raviolis. At home I have now expanded the repertoire to squash ravioli, cheese ravioli (for my daughter, who loves cheese) and the  newest:  fish ravioli, which was invented this week inspired by a piece of left over fish and some left over squash.  There are really no limitations, other than the imagination, to the varieties of ravioli one can make.  Bon Appetit!

In the recipe for Gary’s New Years open house, I used butternut, carnival and red kuri squash. Any variety or mixtures of squash can be used for this recipe. I prefer the sweeter kinds. I cut the squash in half, removed the seeds and roasted the squash on a baking sheet, open side facing down, for about 35-40 minutes at 400˚F. Once the squash was soft, I scooped it out of the skin and blended it in a food processor.

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SQUASH RAVIOLI

(Makes 20-24 raviolis)

For the filling:

2 cups squash purée

4 halves sun-dried tomatoes in olive oil, finely chopped (save oil)

1/4 cup Parmesan cheese (optional)

1/4  teaspoon sea salt

Generous amount of black pepper

Zest from ½ a lemon

•In a medium size bowl mix together all ingredients.

For the dough:

¾ cup unbleached white bread flour

¼ cup semolina flour

¼ teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 large egg (optional, add ¼- 1/3 cup more water to get the right consistency)

¼- ½ cup warm water

Directions:

•In a large bowl, stir together unbleached white flour, semolina flour and salt.

•Make a well in the center of the bowl and add the egg and water.

•Beat liquids lightly with a fork to break up egg.

•Using a wooden spoon, slowly incorporate the liquid into the flour. Use a hand to knead the dough,  it will seem more stiff than bread dough, knead until all the flour has been in incorporated into dough.

•Place the dough on a table or cutting board. Spoon rounded teaspoons of the filling every 1 ½ inches lengthwise along one half of the dough, leaving a ½ inch boarder. With a damp pastry brush, moisten the area around mounds of filling. Fold the other half of the dough to meet the edge and gently press around each mound of filling to seal.

•Cut the ravioli into squares with the filling in the center of each piece. Set aside on a clean towel to dry. Do not let them touch or they will stick together.

•To cook, fill a large pot with water and bring to a boil, add a table spoon of salt and add raviolis, cook 6-10 at a time, cook for 3-5 minutes or until floating. Gently remove from water with a slotted spoon or mesh skimmer.

•Add sauce and serve.

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My friends in the Bay Area have been coming to my home on New Year’s Day for so long, we can scarcely remember a time before this tradition began. My modus operandi is that I try to keep it simple; I set out a buffet of six or seven dishes (plus bread and a dessert or two), most of which can be  prepared ahead and served at room temperature, and everyone helps themselves to food and beverages and then settles in wherever they can find room to enjoy a mellow afternoon of conversation. Sometimes my menus have a theme, and sometimes I just cook dishes I think will go together, and I try to challenge myself by making at least one thing I’ve never made before. This year, my friend Susanne Jensen offered to contribute homemade squash ravioli, and so I dreamt up a more-or-less Italian menu around that (I hope soon to put up a separate blog post on Susanne’s raviolis). So, here in words and photos are five dishes we made for this year’s celebration. For dessert I made the Italian fruit cake, panforte, which I previously posted here. All these dishes could not have been done without the help of my friend, the inimitable Frank Melanson. Frank came three days before the party to help with all aspects of preparation.

Top photo: If a classic summer salad consists of tomatoes, cucumber and lettuce, of what would you construct a winter salad? That’s the challenge I faced in creating this dish. I based this salad on vegetables (and some fruit) which, in the Bay Area, are plentiful in farmer’s markets now. The major ingredient is savoy cabbage which we tore into pieces as you would lettuce, then blanched very briefly.  Once drained and cooled, we tossed in radicchio and belgium endive, as well as some fuyu persimmon slices and pomegranate, and some toasted walnut pieces which we lightly-glazed with maple syrup. While for everyday meals I seldom combine vegetables and fruits this way, for this holiday meal I wanted to create an especially colorful and seasonal salad. To dress the salad, I made a creamy vinaigrette dressing in the blender, with apple juice concentrate, lemon juice, umeboshi vinegar, garlic, mustard, salt and pepper and olive oil.

Photo below: Cannellini beans, are not only so Italian, but are also one of my favorites. When cooked just right, they’re rich and tender, and almost meaty. I soaked the beans overnight and then cooked them for about an hour, but I started checking them for doneness after 50 minutes. Cook beans in plenty of water, then the only real trick is in the timing: check them frequently towards the end of the cooking time. Overcooked beans turn mushy, o.k. for soup, but a no, no for salad, and undercooked beans just don’t taste right and can be difficult to digest. Once cooked and drained, I tossed them with a dressing of olive oil, lemon juice, white balsamic vinegar, umeboshi vinegar, garlic and parsley. Just before serving, I mixed marinated kale into the beans, and that recipe is here. Kumquats chopped small added an occasional textural and flavor surprise. See three more dishes we made for New Year’s Day, after the jump…

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If there’s a way to cook cauliflower which yields a better result than roasting, I’ve yet to discover it. We cut the cauliflower into small flowerettes, tossed it with a little olive oil, mirin, salt and pepper, spread it on parchment paper-lined cookie sheet pans and roasted it in a 400˚ F oven about 35 minutes (after the cauliflower has been in the oven 25 minutes, begin checking it frequently so you can remove it when it reaches the stage of doneness you prefer). Once the cauliflower was roasted we tossed it with sliced, pitted green olives and oranges, peeled and cut into segments.  I may have sprinkled on olive oil and added salt and pepper, but this dish really needs no additional dressing.

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Farro is an old form of wheat which was grown in Italy for millennia, before almost dying out in the last century. Lately, it’s been revived as a specialty crop for the natural and gourmet market.  If you can’t find farro, wheat berries or spelt are good substitutes.  Cook according to package directions, then drain, cool and toss with a little olive oil to keep the grains from sticking. I roasted a mixture of fennel, bell peppers, butternut squash, carrots, mushrooms and red onions (read about roasting vegetables here). After that, we mixed the veggies with the farro, a cup of diced Red Hill Farm smoked goat cheddar cheese and seasoned it all with umeboshi vinegar, salt and pepper.

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Although my New Year’s menus are largely vegetarian, I often make one dish with fish or sea food. This year we did sardines with a sweet and sour marinade, a recipe I adapted from Italian Country Cooking by Loukie Werle (a cookbook I heartily recommend). While this recipe is a lot of work (try cleaning and deboning dozens of small fish), I was pretty happy with the result.  Would I make it again?  I’m not sure, but if I did, I’d use trout filets rather than sardines. One of the beauties of this dish is that it is made entirely a day ahead. Anyway, after the sardines were cleaned, butterflied and deboned, we dipped them in seasoned flour and panfried them for about a minute on each side.  Once the fish were drained, we covered them with the marinade and let them sit over night in the fridge. Our marinade consisted of red onions, sliced lemon and garlic, all sautéed together in olive oil until tender, then simmered briefly with lemon juice, white balsamic vinegar, mirin and golden raisins, and of course, seasoned with salt and pepper. Just before serving, we garnished the fish with sliced almonds and parsley.

To see what we made for our New Year’s celebration last year, click here. A slide show of the party, posted by Bob Starkey, is here (click on slide show).

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It’s not exactly a secret that Portland, Oregon has become one of America’s premiere food cities, known as it is for its fresh, local, seasonal, and largely organic cuisine. So, when I made a quick pre-Christmas trip there to visit my fellow foodie friend, Adele, I knew I was in store for some wonderful eating.  I was not disappointed. I was barely off the plane when Adele whisked me to Tan Tan, a friendly, family-run Vietnamese joint in the close-in western suburb of Beaverton. This is an easy-to-love restaurant, serving really fresh food, casual and inexpensive.  Reviewers on Yelp rave about the bahn mi sandwiches, but I found the more unusual Vietnamese crepe to be completely satisfying, and not to forget the spring roll. Most spring rolls don’t get me excited, but this vegan version, stuffed with seitan, tofu, and the usual rice noodles and veggies, delivered so much clean flavor you really didn’t even need to dip it in the rich peanut sauce. Pho, the much loved Vietnamese noodle soup, is  another specialty here.

Several factors have contributed to Portland’s rise as a food city. The relatively mild climate and proximity to the fertile Willamette and Hood River vallies would be two, but also there is Portland’s comparatively low cost of living which has attracted young chefs, because the cost of opening a food business is a fraction of what it would be in Manhattan, San Francisco or most big cities. Diners benefit as well, as prices nearly everywhere seem to be downright reasonable compared to the Bay Area (and Oregonians love to rub in the fact that there’s no sales tax). It would take a couple weeks of eating and food shopping in and around Portland to even skim the surface of its food culture, but in a few days, I was able to squeeze in quite a bit.  My report is after the jump.

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Photos: From the top–1) Vietnamese Crepe with dipping sauce at Tan Tan in Beaverton, 2) Food carts in the S.W. Alder area of downtown Portland, and click on this video for a humorous, but informative report on Portland’s food cart scene. , 3) Retail store at Bob’s Red Mill, 4) Vegetarian Spring roll at Tan Tan contained both seitan and tofu, really yummy!

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Although there’s lots that’s new about Portland’s food scene, several spots which have been around for a while, warrant a visit. Not to be missed is Bob’s Red Mill in nearby Milwaukie, which since 1978 has been selling natural and organic whole grain products, more and more of which are gluten free. Visit their impressive retail store and restaurant and take a tour of the mill where everything is stone ground. Of course, you will find Bob’s Red Mill products in most natural food stores and even many supermarkets nationwide, and online. While not exclusively a foodie destination, Powell’s City of Books on Burnside Avenue in downtown Portland has one of the largest selections of food-related books anywhere, and a major online presence as well. Farmer’s markets, too have long been a major force in the Portland food scene, and I recommend the Saturday morning market in the park at Portland State University between S.W. Hall and S.W. Montgomery streets in the downtown area. This market is currently closed for the winter and will reopen in March.

You get a sense of the local, independent nature of Portland’s food culture when you visit any one of twelve New Seasons Markets scattered around the Portland area. While Whole Foods has bought out or driven out of business local natural food stores in many areas, New Seasons, founded only in 1999, completely dominates that market segment in Portland. Visit one of their stores, and you’ll understand why. Another area where Portland clearly leads is their food cart culture.  While San Francisco has dozens of food trucks, Portland seems to have hundreds of food carts, trailer-like places where food is cooked and sold. I’ve yet to really dip into this part of Portland’s food scene, but the low cost of entry makes it possible for imaginative chefs to get into the business on a relative shoe string. These carts are sprinkled seemingly all over town, but there’s a large group of them around S. W. Alder between 9th and 11th Avenues, downtown.

As for restaurants, numerous blogs, such as Portland Monthly’s Eat Beat, will keep you up to date on the city’s ever-growing restaurant scene, so I’ll just comment on a few places I was able to check out. Tan Tan, mentioned above and in the photo captions was perhaps most memorable because the food so surpassed one’s expectations for such a moderately-priced venue. Once lowly ramen, gets a respectful upgrade at Boke, 1028 S.E. Water Street, and I enjoyed it so much that I’ll be posting about ramen here soon. There are several well thought of vegan restaurants in Portland, and Adele and I tried Portobello, 1125 S.E. Division St., where we shared a meal of  roasted beets on cashew cheese as an appetizer, a deep dish pizza with a gluten-free, polenta-like crust, seitan medallions and a pear tart with house made coconut ice cream, a satisfying meal in a pleasant, contemporary environment. Although I didn’t have time to try it, Natural Selection, new this year, seems to be regarded as Portland’s best vegan restaurant. Finally, I highly recommend Tabla, 200 N.E. 28th Avenue, a  Mediterranean bistro where three impeccably cooked and presented courses can be had for $28. When I’m having a mellow evening out with friends, I don’t take notes and I don’t photograph, so I can’t remember  everything we ate at Tabla, but I do recall having one of the most precisely-cooked and clean tasting fish dishes I’ve had in a long time. No doubt, I’ll be returning to Portland before long–there’s so much to see, to do, and most of all, to eat. Anyone who lives in Portland and wants to make additions and corrections to this brief report–please have at it in the comments area!

Whole grain breakfast and lunch orders wait to be picked up at the kitchen of Bob's Red Mill retail store.

Waiting to order bowls of steamy ramen noodles at Boke.

Baked goods which are both vegan and gluten-free from Petunia's Pies and Pastries, Portland State University (PSU) Farmer's Market.

One of the most satisfying vegan and gluten free cookies ever, based on corn flour and almond flour and with peanuts and chocolate chips, probably sweetened with brown sugar, also made by Petunia's.

Not to be missed in Portland is Powell's City of Books in the Pearl District, with a dizzying selection of cookbooks, and most other categories as well.

Miso ramen at Boke.

Benessere offers dozens and dozens of quality oils and vinegars, and best of all, you can help yourself to a taste.

Spanakopita, dolmas, among other goodies in the deli department at New Seasons Market.

At the PSU Saturday farmer's market, a display of Belgian endive's various stages of growth. Sunset Lane Farm produces this labor-intensive vegetable in the Willamette Valley.

Fresh cranberries were all sold out by Thanksgiving, but you could buy cranberry juice blends grown and bottled by Vincent Family Cranberries, on the south Oregon coast. Oregon and Washington are important producers of cranberries, after Wisconsin and Massachusetts.

Tis the season... conifers grow abundantly in the Pacific Northwest.

Oregon is known for fabulous mushrooms, both foraged and cultivated.

Huddling around a stove at the Portland State University market. It was a damp 30˚ F on Saturday, December 15th, the penultimate market of 2011.

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Panforte, literally “strong bread” in Italian, originated in Sienna in the middle ages as a sort of tribute paid to the monks and nuns, or so the story goes. In any case, it’s now a rich, fruit and nut cake made for the holidays and enjoyed all over Italy and a good many other places as well. High end stores sell panforte at steep prices, but you can easily make it at home. This maple syrup-sweetened version goes together quickly and bakes in only about 35 minutes. Serve with coffee or tea.

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PANFORTE

(recipe adapted from the Esalen Cookbook)

preheat oven to 350˚ F/ serves 12-16

1 1/4 cups water

3/4 cup maple syrup

3/4 cup canola oil

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon allspice

1 teaspoon nutmeg

pinch salt

1 1/4 cups raisins, lightly packed

1 cup chopped dried apples and pears

1 cup unbleached flour

1 cup whole wheat pastry flour

1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 1/2 cups sliced almonds

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1. Measure the first nine ingredients, including the apples and pears, into a large sauce pan and heat just until everything comes to boil. Turn off the heat and let it sit a few minutes.

2. Meanwhile, measure the flour, baking powder, baking soda and almonds into a medium mixing bowl.  Stir together well to combine.

3. Pour the dry ingredients into the wet, and stir together to thoroughly combine.

4. Pour into an oiled, preferably round, 10″ cake or tart pan. Spread, and smooth to make it even.

5. Bake in a preheated 350˚F oven 30-35 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the middle comes out clean.

6. Cool on a wire rack before attempting to cut.

7. While I usually don’t use refined sugar in any form, because it is traditional for this cake and because I was making this for a New Year’s party, I dusted it with a little bit of powdered sugar.

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I’m not entirely sure why, but this is my favorite time of year. Perhaps it’s a holdover from childhood, when year’s end meant two weeks off from school, and of relative freedom.  But I do think it’s deeper  than that. It has to do, I think, with the change of season, with the solstice, when the nights are longest and hours of sunlight the fewest. Because the sun is lower in the sky, colors are more vivid, and everything feels lighter and less tense. It’s the time of the big yin, a time to turn inward, a time for less action and more contemplation. Our bodies, whether we acknowledge it or not, are attuned to these changes. For many plants and animals, winter is a time of rest, and shouldn’t it also be for us? I wonder if some of the extra illness so many of us experience in winter isn’t partly because we fail to heed this seasonal call to rest, and instead press ahead with ever more work and social activity.

Having said that, it’s also true that there’s a great deal to enjoy now. As the weather turns colder, people seem to gather more closely, and the bustle of cities becomes more alluring. I’m not much of a shopper, but once a year or so I enjoy the crowds in downtown San Francisco, which at this time reach an almost New York-like intensity. I agreed to meet up with my friends Susanne Jensen and Sophia Hummell to take in the music, the decorations, to people watch and to have a pre-Christmas lunch. Although it was the Winter Solstice and only four days before Christmas, with temperatures in the 60′s, and a bright sun, the crowds seemed both larger and more relaxed than usual. It felt as if we’d all taken a pledge to be in a really good mood. And so, here’s a little bit of what I saw, on my own, and with Susanne and Sophia on the shortest day of year. Whether or not you observe a holiday this week, I hope you are able to slow down, take a breath, and enjoy this special time of the year. Best wishes in all you do.

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Photos: Top–The world’s largest gingerbread house? Who knows, but you can walk through this edible marvel in the lobby of the Fairmont Hotel, on Mason Street at the top of Nob Hill. Occasionally, the story goes, people nibble on it and the hotel pastry chefs must make repairs.  Above: A Christmas tree and menorah side-by-side in Union Square. We were dismayed that neither this tree nor any of the the other trees we saw was real.

Panettone, the traditional Italian Christmas cake, stacked nearly to the ceiling at Molinari's, on Columbus Avenue in North Beach.

Skilled musicians perform Christmas songs at the entrance to Union Square.

Wayfare Tavern, celebrity chef Tyler Florence's Sacramento Street entry into the San Francisco restaurant scene.

You don't usually see ice and palm trees in the came scene, but here it is. This ice rink at Embarcadero Center is one of three in downtown San Francisco. The Ferry Building is in the background.

Shopping opportunities abound, even at City Lights, the legendary North Beach bookstore. "Howl" sweatshirts, tee shirts or caps, anyone?

Lunch al fresco at Cafe de la Presse, corner of Bush and Grant, across from the Chinatown gate.

Have your gift wrapped and donate to the American Red Cross.

What I want for Christmas: La Cornue, the Rolls Royce of kitchen ranges, at Williams Sonoma on Post Street. One could buy a small house for that these beauties cost.

Meeting up at the Christmas tree with friends Susanne and Sophia.

I don't usually eat in shopping center restaurants, but the food at Cupola, on the fourth floor of San Francisco Center was fabulous. We ate four kinds of vegetable antipasti, a margherita pizza, butternut squash ravioli, and a salad.

This tree in a shop window is decorated with pandas, dragons and other delightful Chinatown kitsch.

Shop local: Heath Ceramics, the esteemed pottery which has been manufacturing its tableware and tiles in Sausalito since 1948, has a shop in the Ferry Building.

Finally, this sugar cube castle decorates the lobby of the St. Francis hotel, on Powell Street just across from Union Square.

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