Shallots Web

'Maters

Sense memory is pretty interesting. I think we often take for granted our sense of sight and hearing so much that a familiar face or tune never has the same kind of profound effect as a smell or a taste from the past.  A few weeks ago, I was reminded, through scent, of a time in my life that seems so long ago as to never have happened.  As I breathed in the scent, I was uncontrollably thrown into a moment where I was standing on a sleet-covered sidewalk in the Back Bay of Boston, bathed in the light of a shop decorated for the holidays, holding onto someone who seemed like the love of my life at the time.  For a smell to transport me so quickly through time and space, without the struggle of trying to remember, was almost too much to take.  How does your brain do this to you?  Sure, it happens with an old photograph or a melody every once in a while, but never as much as taste or smell, I think.  

Bread and Butter (Lettuce)

When I got back to my computer, I couldn’t help but reconnect with the love in that memory and tell him about what happened, and how I was taken back to a time so long ago.  His response sort of took me by surprise, but in a great way.  He said he understood sense memory like that, and spun it back to me with a taste memory.  He said that he always thinks of me, with the same kind of intensity, when he makes the fried green tomato BLTs I invented years ago.  When he said that, it dawned on me that I had not thought of those sandwiches in years, perhaps because of broken-hearted connotations.  With so much water under the bridge, I immediately found myself craving one.  

Fried Green Tomatoes

Unfortunately, I had to wait to make the sandwiches, as it took a few weeks to get real green (unripe) tomatoes from the farmer’s market.  We shared the bacon, lettuce, and fried green tomato sandwiches [BL(FG)Ts] at Sunday supper with Meggie and David recently.  They were better this time, for some reason – maybe fresher tasting.  The sense memory took me back, though, and I was suddenly in my huge, old, greasy kitchen in Boston, sitting in the first chill of late summer and devouring my new sandwich invention.  If you’ve seen Ratatouille, there is a scene near the end where Anton Ego, the food critic, has a moment with the title dish.  He takes one bite of that meal and is transported to his childhood, to his family, and to his own fledgling tastebuds.  Perhaps my reaction to the taste of those layers of goodness was not as overwhelming as Ego’s, but I felt assured that, even in my adult life, I am building memories of moments with food.  

BL(FG)T

BL(FG)Ts

If you are new to fried green tomatoes, don’t be scared.  They are not easily messed up, provided that you have a non-stick skillet.  Perhaps a bit obnoxiously, I do make my own tomato chutney, mostly because I like it the way I make it.  You should feel free to swap out a not-too-spicy store-bought chutney of any kind (not only tomato).  If you need recommendations, just let me know.

A few weeks ago, Meggie, David, the Bun and I were blessed to have the opportunity to attend one of the dinners in the Outstanding in the Field series (see link at the right), run by Jim Denevan and a crew of loyal and committed farm groupies.  I call them that because their philosophy is about food, but not so much about the end product on your plate.  They are committed to making people become more aware of food origins and how it actually makes it to your pantry or your dinner table.  Throughout the evening, a slew of wonderful farmers and food providers came by to talk about the amazing raspberries that were in our dessert, or about the delicious beer they made to accompany our first course.  Each one had a great story to tell, or at least some interesting facts to relay, and made us all feel we were part of something very special.  Some of our favorite dishes were a beautiful, smooth corn chowder with sausage (and fresh coriander seeds from an herb patch not 20 yards from where we were sitting), amazing fried rabbit pieces, and phenomenal pecan pie.

One of the things that I had a difficult time grasping, for at least the first part of the meal, is where we were in the city of Chicago.  The dinner was held at the City Farm, which is essentially right in the heart of what used to be one of the most crime-ridden housing projects in the country.  The remnants of the Cabrini-Green towers still loom to the west, the condition of which plays a strong discordance with the beauty and spirit of the farm.  What I tried to do throughout the evening was to reconcile the many disparities of time, place, and sociology in that place.  There we were, indulging in an expensive meal with 150 other people to whom the luxury of fresh, organic, delicious food was given, when a block or two away, people were potentially eating cheap, processed food because it was all they could afford.  Several more blocks to the other side of us, the residents of the Gold Coast might have been sucking down foie gras and obnoxious vintages of French wine, just because they could.  We were happy to learn that the City Farm is, in fact, connected to the community through service and food provisions, so it isn’t just the privileged who reap the benefits of the food they grow.

For those of us thinking about the concept of place over the course of those courses, I think that there was something garnered in making the effort to consider the proximity between oneself and the food one eats.  It also seemed important to consider that, regardless of who we are and the money we may or may not have, we should know what it means to eat good food.  Part of me felt guilty about having that amazing meal there under the stars, prepared lovingly by our chef, Mindy Segal, and her tireless staff.  But then another part of me realized that my presence there was not the norm for the City Farm, but the exception.  Though they might provide food for some of the more high-end restaurants in Chicago, they also seem committed to their own sense of place and the people who live in the area.  Does a tomato taste better when it is turned into a luxurious soup at a table set with white linens than, it would simply sitting on a plate, sliced and sprinkled with salt and pepper?  I think I’ve been on both sides of the tomato here, and I can say that they taste equally good when they come from the ground outside your door.

Fresh Fruit Tart

This dessert was inspired by my friend Christine. As teenagers, we often put together little dinner parties or just made food together from recipe books we started collecting at a very early age. She started making something called a Tranchee aux Fruits, which was basically a crust, a sweet cheese layer, and a layer of fresh fruit. To make the dish especially appealing, you melt a little apricot jam with some water and brush it over the fruit, which gives it a beautiful, jewel-like shine. Once you have the crust made, this dish could not be simpler to make, and everyone seems to find it quite impressive. You should feel free to play around with the combinations of fruit you use, depending on what you find freshest at the market. Also, alter the cheese mixture to your liking. Most often, I just use a bit of regular cream cheese, mixed with confectioners sugar and flavored with a little vanilla extract. Here, I used some almond extract and I think that, in the future, I’ll try a little orange flower water. Go with your instincts on what you think works together. I chose the almond flavor here because the peaches (and all stone fruits) are related to almonds. If I am feeling a little more fancy or frivolous with money, I might try some Mascarpone cheese in this recipe, or some other Neufchatel-style cheese.

As far as the crust is concerned, make it as simple or complicated as you like. For this version, I made a pat-in-pan shortbread crust which was delicious and easy. Granted, it was not as easy as the store-bought crescent rolls that Crissy and I used to use, but not too bad. A homemade or store-bought flaky pastry crust will work, too. Just make sure that you get enough crust up the sides of your pan to hold the cheese and fruit. Regardless of what you choose as the crust, I think a fluted tart pan makes the most attractive presentation. In these high-summer days, when fresh, local fruit is at its best, I cannot think of a better way to showcase those delicious flavors.

Fresh Fruit Tart