Halloween has pagan roots in the Celtic Samhain, a festivalof the harvest and the dead.  The Celts saw the end of October as the“end of lightness” or the end of summer, and the “beginning ofdarkness,” or the long, cruel winter ahead. At this timeof year, harvests were complete, livestock were slaughtered, and communitybonfires were started. During this transformation from light to dark, theancient Celts believed that the border between this world and the spirit worldbecame thin, allowing spirits to pass through. Some spirits were thought to beharmless, such as the family’s ancestors; while other harmful spirits werewarded off with the use of masks and costumes.

Despite Halloween’s origins in European culture, it hasclearly meshed with Native American culture here in the United States, with theelements of corn and pumpkins being the most common symbols of theharvest. The next time you find yourself carving a pumpkin, you shouldthink of how much more difficult your task would be if you were following theCeltic tradition of carving a much denser turnip or rutabaga. The American tradition of pumpkin carving actually preceded the popularizationof the Halloween celebration in the United States, which is thought to haveorigins in the Irish immigration following the Great Famine of 1846.Pumpkin carving was a harvest ritual and was not specifically associated withHalloween until the mid-to-late 1800s. 

However, for all of our Halloween obsessions with pumpkins,the culinary state of our much beloved gourd is a sad indeed. Aren’t ourpumpkins good for more than scary or comical faces?  Most of the pumpkinsgrown in the United States are purely ornamental. Even if you tried toroast and eat your jack-o-lantern, you would quickly discover that most of theflesh has been bred out of the pumpkin and what is left is watery, stringy, andof lackluster taste.  Sadly, the only pumpkin that most Americans haveeaten is canned and usually in the form of an overspiced pie orquickbread. One can fully understand why pumpkin remains a virtuallyundiscovered vegetable at this point. 

I did not begin to fully appreciate pumpkin until I beganto think outside the box—or, more accurately the orange globe. If youare looking only for round, bright orange ones that we most readily identify aspumpkins you are missing out on a myriad of beautiful colors and shapes and thebest pumpkin eating. It is also important to note that terms pumpkin andwinter squash are used interchangebly, so we should loosen our rigid“pumpkin” guidelines even further.  Both are gourd-like squashof the genus Cucurbita. 

Some of my favorite varieties are the beautiful grey-blueAustralian Jarrahdale;  the Japanesekabocha; the old green-striped Southern cushaw, popular in theAppalachians;  and in South Louisiana,the Long Island cheese pumpkin. And the dependable and ubiquitous butternutsquash is my favorite supermarket standby.  I will use any of thesevarieties in my “pumpkin” pies—and the pies are much better forit. 

However, my pumpkin culinary advententures don’t stopthere. By far the tastiest method for cooking winter squash is to roast itin big chunks that have been tossed with a bit of olive oil and salt andpepper. Roasting the pumpkin slightly caramelizes it and gives it anamazing depth of flavor that I find totally addictive.  You can then usethe roasted pumpkin in many different ways.  I love big chunks of it ontop of a salad of spicy mixed greens and hazelnuts, walnuts, or pecans. Many other cultures have explored the savory possibilities of winter squashwith much greater depth. 

In the Mediterranean, they make a lovely autumnal hummus ofroasted pumpkin and tahini. The French love their pumpkin gratins; theItalians, their pumpkin risottos and ravioli. In Mexico, they make adelcious raw sugar roasted pumpkin very similar to Southern candied yams.I particularly love pumpkin when its sweetness is countered with a bit ofspice, such as the savory tarts that I make with pumpkin and a spicy Indiantomato chutney and the agrodolce (sweet-sour) pumpkin from Mario Batali’s Molto Italiano.

It was with these dishes in mind that I gravitated toward achili with pumpkin. Since fall is also firmly established soup and chiliseason in my family, it seemed a natural fit. Moreover, following thewisdom of “what grows together goes together,” I knew that theAmerican Indian crops of pumpkin, beans, peppers, and a side of cornbread werea natural match. The results did not dissappoint. So this weekend,whether you are carving pumpkins, trick-or-treating, or standing around a bigbonfire, you can have your pumpkins and eat them, too.

Feel free to substitute other beans in this chili, or addmeat for a non-vegetarian version. When I made this recipe at my parents’house this weekend, 2 cups of shredded brisket from a previous meal made adelicious addition. If you wanted to add meat from the beginning, youwould need to brown it along with the onions and peppers.

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White Bean and Pumpkin Chili

2 medium onions, diced (about 2 cups)

2 red bell peppers, preferably roasted and skinned, cut into medium dice

2 jalapeño peppers, seeds and membranes removed, cut into fine dice

4 Tablespoons olive oil

2 1/2 pounds tomatoes, coarsely chopped, or about 4 cups 

1 1/2 tablespoons chile powder, mild, hot or a combination

1 teaspoon ground cumin

1 teaspoon curry powder

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

2 bay leave

2 teaspoon salt

2 teaspoons honey or sugar

2 teaspoons apple cider vinegar

4 cups cooked white or black beans, preferably from dried

4 cups roasted pumpkin or winter squash, directions below*

pinch of Mexican oregano

Serve with sour cream, chopped cilantro, chopped scallions,shredded cheese, and cornbread (recipe below).

Directions:

Bring the beans to a boil, then turn down and simmer untiltender. Otherwise, use drained and rinsed canned beans** (see below).

In a large stock pot, sauté the onions in olive oil untillightly golden. Add in the bell peppers and jalapenos, and cook for about fiveminutes until tender. On medium heat, add the chili powder, curry powder,ground cumin, cinnamon, bay leaves, and salt, and cook for another minute. Then add the tomatoes and the honey or sugar, stirring well toincorporate.  Cook at a simmer for 10 minutes. 

Once the beans have become tender, add them into the chilibase, along with their juice, and simmer for about 1 1/2 hours. Add the pumpkinand vinegar just before serving. Taste, and adjust seasoning.

*Remove the seeds and the fiber from the pumpkin and cutthe flesh into chunks, leaving the skin still attached. Mix the chunks in abowl with 2 or 3 tablespoons of  olive oil, salt and pepper, and ateaspoon of dried oregano. Lay the chunks on a baking tray, skin side down, andput them in the oven, which you have preheated to 425 degrees F. When the chunks ofpumpkin are soft and the edges are tinged with brown, remove from the oven andallow to cool, and scoop out chunks of the pumpkin from the skin with afork.  Measure out 4 cups of the pumpkin and save the rest for anotherpurpose, like a salad or snacking later.

**If using canned beans, cook the chili tomato base anextra 20 minutes before adding the beans.  Add the rinsed beans along with2 cups of water and cook for another 20 minutes.  Add the pumpkin andadjust seasoning before serving.

Black Skillet Cornbread

Serves 6 to 8

2 cups cornmeal, preferably stone ground (you maysubstitute up to half of the cornmeal with all purpose flour if you prefer)

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

4 tablespoons oil or drippings—bacon grease or lardgives distinctive flavor, but a mixture of a high heat vegetable oil, such assafflower or grape seed and butter, makes a fine substitute

1 large egg

1 1/2 cups whole buttermilk or whole milk

A few teaspoons of honey or sugar (optional)

Directions:

You really need a 9- to 10-inch cast-iron skillet for thisrecipe. If you do not have one, I can’t think of any better way to spend$15-20. You can buy cast iron pre-seasoned these days, if that part of theprocess has always scared you. You may substitute a 9- or 10-inch cake pan ormuffin tins, but you will lose some crispness in the crust.

Heat the oven to 450 degrees.Heat the bacon grease or oil in a 9-inch cast-iron skillet in the oven for 10minutes to get it very hot before you pour in the batter. Whisk the cornmeal,salt, baking soda, and baking powder together in a large bowl. Add the egg andbuttermilk and whisk until smooth. Add the sweetener if you wish. With a thickoven mitt or kitchen towel, remove the hot skillet from the oven and verycarefully swirl the grease around the pan to coat the sides. Pour about half ofthe hot oil into the batter and whisk it in. Then pour the batter into the hotskillet. If the batter does not sizzle when it hits the pan, it was not hotenough—heat it longer next time. Place the skillet on the lower oven rackand bake for 15 minutes. Transfer the skillet to the upper rack and continuebaking until the cornbread is dark golden brown on top. Remove the skillet fromthe oven and invert the cornbread onto a large plate or cutting board. Sliceinto wedges and serve hot. If the cornbread will not be served immediately, itshould be cooled on a rack so that the crust maintains its crispiness. Thebread reheats in a moderate oven wonderfully.

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In my personal experience the single most rewarding aspect of eating locallyhas been exploring my own region in depth. I think of it as seeking the wisdomof Wendell Berry who says repeatedly, “You’ve got to know where you are. You’vegot to consult the genius of the place.”

Before moving to North Carolina,I was living a few miles from where my family had settled six generationsback. The loss that I felt in my newplace was a disconnection to the past and to the land that I now lived on. I fell into a counterculture of my own—acommunity of multigenerational farmers and DIY punks who mostly grew and/or ateseasonal, locally grown and foraged food. There was an intentional effort within this community to live Berry’s idea of a goodlife, one that values sustainable agriculture, healthy rural communities,connection to place, the pleasures of good food, meaningful work, a functioninglocal economy, reverence for nature and the interconnectedness of life.

I experienced an ever increasing awareness that the food choices I made weregoverned by the competing considerations of identity, convenience, price, andresponsibility. Through my choice to support small, local farmers bybuying directly from them, I could help preserve agricultural land in an areathat was experiencing rapid growth.

In the long term, however, what keeps me interested in locally grown food is discovering that self-imposedgeographical limits on our foodshed support the minor agricultural products, forwhich there are increasingly fewer markets in our current boundless global foodsociety. There is a deep and understatedsort of satisfaction that comes from delving into long forsaken traditionalfoods, such as lard from pastured pigs as a cooking fat, sorghum molasses as awholesome sweetener, and old varieties of Southern apples found here in the NorthCarolina Piedmont. 

It was in this spirit of discovery that I first sampled a rustic,idiosyncratic apple that I found for sale at the Carrboro Farmer’s Market. That apple had a winey, complex taste thatjust doesn’t exist in modern apple varieties.I sought to learn more. It turnsout that although they are virtually extinct on the commercial market, thereare many, many varieties of delicious old timey apples with a rich, ifdisappearing, history behind them. And that is what fascinates me: not just alocal apple, but an apple with a story, a history, and a sense of place, all ofwhich contribute to the pleasure of every winey bite.    

My apple love led me to premier apple preservationist Creighton Lee Calhoun,who grows 450 varieties of heirloom apples at his nursery and apple orchardjust down the road from me in Chatham County, North Carolina.In his book, Old Southern Apples, he describes over 1600 beloved Southernapple varieties, many of which are now extinct. The reason that so many differentvarieties arose is that European settlers opened enormous new lands all over the South from the 17th to late 19thcentury. Therewere perhaps tens of millions of apples seeds planted—not grafted as in thecommon nursery practice—in the South during this time. Apple seedsare like humans—each has a unique genetic code and will yield a treethat is different from its parent tree. 

Apple seeds were cheap, durable and portable, and the men and women whoplanted these trees knew that most seeds would yield mediocre applesat best. Most apples would be used to feed the hogs or to makevinegar or hard cider. A few of theseedlings would yield apples good enough for cooking, fresh eating, andsome to keep through the winter. Out of the millions of seeds that wereplanted, a few would become exceptional trees that were cherished by Southerners. These trees were often reproduced by digging up the root sprouts that sometimesspring up around the apple tree. It is those varieties that havesurvived in the backyards of the old homesteads that Calhoun has collected.  

Thanks to his propagation, those storied apples can be found for sale at mylocal farmer’s market and all of my apple recipes are better for it. 

HeirloomApple Sauce (makesabout 5 half pints)

2cups water

2cups apple juice

1cup orange juice

6Tablespoons sugar or honey

6whole cloves

4cardamom pods, cracked

2cinnamon sticks

1/2teaspoon of fennel seeds

About10-12 medium apples, preferably sweet and soft fleshed varieties, peeled,cored, and quartered (if you have a food mill, you can skip the peeling andcoring)

1teaspoon vanilla extract

In a medium saucepan, combine the water, apple juice, orangejuice, cloves, sugar, cardamom, cinnamon, and fennel.  Bring to a boil and reduce liquid byhalf.  Strain the liquid to remove thespices. 

In a large heavy bottomed saucepan, combine the apples withthe spiced liquid. Simmer for about 20minutes until the apples are falling apart tender. Remove the apples from heat, add vanilla, andlet cool. Process in a food processor orfood mill to desired consistency. Ladleinto sterilized jars and top with two-piece lids. Process in a water bath for 15 minutes.   

Oven-RoastedApple Butter (makesabout 4 half pints)

To turn your applesauce into apple butter,

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

To your applesauce mixture, add ½ cup brown sugar, 1Tablespoon of ground cinnamon, and ½ teaspoon each of ground cloves and groundginger. Bake the apple puree, stirringoccasionally, for 1 1/2 to 1 3/4 hours, or until very thick and deeply browned.

Ladle the apple butter into sterilized jars, top with twopiece lids and process in a water bath for 10 minutes.

Apple tartsRustic Apple Tarts (makes 1 large tart or 6 small tarts)

Dough

½ pound butter, unsalted, very cold and cut into 1-inchpieces

½ cup ice water, drained

¾ teaspoon salt

2 ½ cups unbleached all purpose flour

Apples

About 10 medium apples, preferably a sweet-tart cookingvariety, peeled, cored, and cut into wedges, about 8 per apple

½ cup sugar

1 tablespoon butter

Splash of apple cider or juice

Pinch of salt

¼ cup crème fraiche, optional

Walnuts, optional

Measure flour and salt in a bowl or in the bowl of a foodprocessor. Toss in the cubes ofbutter. Using a pastry blender orpulsing your food processor, cut the butter in the flour until the butter isthe size of large peas. You want fairlylarge pieces of butter because this is what produces a flaky crust. Pour all of the water into your flour mixtureand mix the dough until you can gather it into a shaggy ball. Flatten the ball of dough slightly and foldit back on itself to get it to come together more. Flatten the dough into a disc, wrap inplastic wrap and refrigerate at least 1 hour before rolling out.

Place the disc of dough on a well floured surface. Flour the top of the dough and brush off theexcess. Flour your rolling pin aswell. Place your rolling pin in thecenter of the disc of dough and roll towards the top. Turn the dough a quarter turn to your rightand repeat. Use your bench scraper or aspatula to scrape the bottom of the disc of dough to keep it fromsticking. Add more flour asnecessary. Continue to flour yourrolling pin and scrape any sticky pieces of dough off of it frequently. When your dough is ¼-inch thick and in arough circle, drape it over your rolling pin and transfer it to a parchmentlined baking sheet. Cover it withplastic wrap and place it in the refrigerator while you prepare yourapples. 

To caramelize the apples, place a large frying pan overmedium heat. Sprinkle the bottom of itwith ¼ cup of sugar. When the sugarbegins to caramelize, swirl the pan and toss in about ½ of the appleslices. Toss the apples to coat them incaramel and let them cook for about 2 minutes.Dump them out on a parchment lined baking tray and spread them outslightly to cool. Cook the other half ofthe apples exactly the same way. Whenyou dump the second batch of apples onto your baking tray, place the pan backover medium heat and add the tablespoon of butter, the apple juice and a pinchof salt. Bring to a boil and with awooden spoon try to get any bits of caramel stuck to the pan stirred into thesauce and melted. Pour this over theapples and set aside.

Remove the tart dough from the refrigerator. If you wish, brush the bottom of the doughwith crème fraiche. Pile the apples intothe center of the tart, leaving about a three inch border. Fold the border up over the apples. Brush the crust with an egg glaze (1 eggbeaten with a pinch of salt and a splash of cream) and sprinkle it lightly withsugar. 

Bake at 375 degrees until deep golden brown, about 1 hour.

Alternately, you can make 6smaller tarts. Just reduce the cookingtime to about 40-45 minutes.

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Judging from the first canning-equipment display I’ve ever seen at my local health-food store, home canning is undergoing a revival. Let us not forget, though, that long before Ball and Kerr were churning out jars, food preservation was a common practice.  Traditional cultures all over the world preserved much of the food needed for the winter through lactic-acid fermentation.  Sauerkraut, kimchi, grape leaves, cucumbers, turnips, green tomatoes, peppers, corn, and many, many more vegetables were commonly preserved through this process.     

Of all methods of preserving, lacto-fermentation is the most magical.  At its simplest, it is just vegetables and salt.  This provides the right conditions for nature to take its course.  The salt slows the decomposition of the vegetables briefly until the sugars in the vegetables are broken down by friendly lactobacilli and converted into lactic acid to preserve the vegetables for many months.  Thinking about real, lacto-fermented pickles makes my mouth water.  There is no substitute for their complex and nuanced taste.  I was born into sweet pickle territory, however, and grew up on bread and butters and apple cider vinegar-y okra pickles. Though delicious as well, that’s not what I am talking about here.  Here we are talking about the artisanal crafted, slightly unpredictable, real thing.

Not-so-classic dill pickles: just add chiles.My first encounter with real, garlicky, brined pickles was at the all-you-can-eat pickle bars of Jewish delis.  Since then, my love of pickles has led me on pickle eating field trips to the Russian community of Brighton Beach, Brooklyn, where they serve massive slabs of whole pickled watermelon, to Japan, where I ate pickled umeboshi plum, daikon radish and burdock root for breakfast alongside bowls of rice and miso soup.  I’ve also discovered some hidden fermenting traditions in my own region as well, such as the Appalachian tradition of pickling whole ears of corn on the cob, which has roots in Native American food ways, and the grape leaf pickles found around Winston-Salem, N.C., most likely connected to the Moravian settlement there.This is the perfect time of year to try your hand at fermented vegetables.  The days are getting shorter, the nights cooler and temperatures are on the decline. However, harvests are still coming in. When fermentation temperatures rise above the low seventies, yeasts and mold growth on the surface of the pickles are more aggressive. Cucumbers, the vegetable most synonymous with pickles, prefer cooler summer temperatures and are plentiful at my market right now.   Another of my favorite vegetables to ferment is peppers, and this is high pepper season. A fermented hot sauce has a sophisticated lingering flavor and not just heat.  It might be bad news for the hot sauce business, but once you’ve made a homemade, fermented version, you may never buy another bottle of the stuff. Fermented sweet peppers are delicious on sandwiches, chopped into salads, tossed in a stir fry, and just about anywhere you choose to apply them.If you want more information about this type of pickling, there is tons to explore. Unfortunately, there’s a lot of misinformation as well. I highly recommend Nourishing Traditions by Sally Fallon, Wild Fermentation by Sandor Katz, and The Joy of Pickling by Linda Zeidrich.

Before you begin, there are a couple of important things to remember when fermenting vegetables. First, be absolutely certain that your vegetables are fully submerged beneath the brine and sufficiently weighted down.  If an errant cucumber is sticking out of the brine and exposed to air, yeast and mold are likely to flourish.  Check your pickles regularly and immediately skim off any growth that does occur. 

Yeast and mold are much more difficult to combat at warmer temperatures, which is why, along with the necessity of putting food by for winter months, fermentation is traditionally done in the fall.  Temperatures between about 55 and 70 degrees Fahrenheit make the best pickles, but with careful monitoring I have successfully fermented at temperatures up to 80 degrees.

In quite a pickle: not just for cukesMany traditional pickle makers believe that pickles need to be made when the moon is waning, so you might want to consult your lunar calendars as well.

Once fermented, the pickles will keep in your refrigerator for up to a year so long as they remain submerged in the brine.  Below, instead of giving you a specific recipe for fermenting pickles, I have attempted to give you a general guide and a ratio for brine that you can adapt endlessly.  The saltier your brine, the longer your fermentation will take and the more sour your pickle will be.  Below you will find my most commonly used ratio for brine. However, you can successfully cut the salt in half and still have pickling success. Your pickles will be not get as sour and will pickle in about half to three quarters of the time.  This is how the half sour pickle of Jewish delis is made. Lacto-fermented Pickles 101The following guide will make two quarts of fermented vegetables.  If you want to make 12 quarts of pickles, simply multiply everything by a factor of six. Necessary Equipment: a stoneware crock; a food grade plastic bucket or other nonreactive container to hold your pickles, such as a large glass jar; a measuring cup and measuring spoons; and either a plate that will fit snuggly inside the rim of your container or two plastic Ziploc bags large enough to cover the surface of your pickling crock.Ingredients: 2 pounds cucumbers or about 2 quarts of other vegetables, such as quartered green tomatoes; green or wax beans; thinly sliced carrots or beets; small peppers or pepper strips  Brine: 3 Tablespoons fine sea salt; 1 quart filtered water. Suggested herbs and spices:

Garlic is a must in my opinion – 5-6 cloves, crushed, sliced, or chopped per quart of brineDill – a handful of dill heads or fronds per quart of brineBlack Peppercorns – 1 teaspoon whole peppercorns per quart of brineMustard Seed – 1/2 teaspoon per quartChile peppers – dried or fresh, 1-2 per quart of brine, or more if you dareBay leaves – 1 per quart of brineFor crunchier pickles – add a few grape or sour cherry leaves per quart of brine.**A note on other spices—The sky is the limit with how you spice your pickle. My advice is to choose no more than three predominant, complimentary flavors that you want to accent in your pickle. I almost always use garlic. Try an Asian spiced pickle with Sichuan peppercorns and ginger, or a Mexican spiced pickle with jalapenos, cumin, and oregano. Mixed pickling spice gives pickles a spicier, old fashioned flavor. Create your own pickle based on your own favorite herbs and spices, such as horseradish, fennel, celery, basil, tarragon, or curry powder.Pick a peck—then pickle ‘em. Method: In a clean crock or other pickling vessel, layer your well washed vegetables and spices.  Leave about 4 inches at the top of your crock.  Prepare your brine with cold, filtered water.  Whisk well to completely dissolve the salt and pour the brine over your vegetables. The brine should just cover your vegetables. Next, you need to weight down your vegetables to keep them fully submerged in the brine.  You can do this by using a plate that just fits inside your crock, thus creating a seal, and weighting that plate down with a well-scrubbed, large rock or several quart jars that have been filled with water.     Alternately, you can use a plastic bag filled with brine to act as both a weight and a seal.  I often use this method.  Fit a heavy 1-gallon plastic freezer bag inside another (for larger than 2 gallon crocks, I use the 2 ½ gallon bags). Fill the inner bag with a salt brine of 3 tablespoons salt to 1 quart of water and tightly close both bags to prevent leaks. Place on top of the pickles, making sure it fits tightly around the inner edge of the crock. It acts as an airtight weight on top of the vegetables, which will discourage the growth of yeast and scum. Store the crock in a cool place (60° to 75°F). Liquid may bubble and seep from the pickles as they ferment, so place the crock on a tray to contain any overflow.Now that’s hotYour pickles will take about 4-10 days to complete fermentation, depending on the temperature of fermentation and the concentration of salt in your brine.  Cooler temperatures and saltier brines slow fermentation.  You will know that fermentation is complete when bubbles are no longer rising to the surface of your pickles and they have a fresh, tart smell.  Taste the brine.  If the saltiness is not balanced with sourness, you can let your pickles continue to ferment another day or two.  Truly Sensational Hot Sauce:Ferment hot peppers, adding garlic for spicing, if you wish. Turn your fermented hot peppers into hot sauce by simply stemming and pureeing them. Be sure to wear gloves when handling hot peppers. If you want a thinner sauce, strain. Bottled sauce will keep all year in the refrigerator.

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This Halloween, have your pumpkin—and eat it, too

Try as I might, I cannot hate on August. I half-heartedly complain in solidarity with the masses about the stifling heat and humidity, as well as my scratchy, ragweed-irritated eyes.

But in truth, this is the time of year I long for. August means watermelons, okra, fresh corn, peppers, tomatoes, and the seasons’ first figs. I am obsessed with these sun-drenched summer vegetables. They form the basis of my food identity, shaped by the geography of my Mississppi birthplace and my family’s particular affinities.

These heat-loving vegetables are what the South grows best, and Southern cooks show a deft hand in preparing them. My relationship with them is intimate, rooted in family history. My grandfather and my father taught me to grow them in doted-on backyard gardens. I learned to prepare them and to put them away for the winter at my grandmother’s elbow.

My grandmother would often prepare a meal with as many as six different summer vegetables and serve them up with hot and crispy cornbread. I still find this food to be the best food in the world, and at least once every summer, I host an all-out Southern summer harvest feast to share these traditions with my friends. Eating them in the much the same way that my family did many generations ago is my dinner-party version of a séance.

Appearing now at a market near you: late-summer veggies yearning to be fritters.Photo: April McGregerMy everyday reality, however, is that I live a hectic modern life in a two-person household. I have a need for simple, quick meals with a minimum of cleanup required. I have, therefore, found myself returning meal after meal to the versatile fritter.

Fritters are everywhere in the South, from street vendors selling sweet rice calas in New Orleans to the ubiquitous hushpuppy, which accompanies both barbecue and fried fish. The food scholar Jessica Harris, who has spent her life studying the culinary cross-currents between Africa and the Americas, says that wherever fritters have been perfected anywhere on the Atlantic rim, an African hand most likely had a hand on the pan. Though an age-old culinary tradition, fritters adapt perfectly to our modern lives. They come together in a flash, are endlessly adaptable, and are a perfect medium for recycling leftovers. And they work just as well as a cocktail nibble as they do at lunch, dinner, breakfast, or even dessert, for that matter. They can be a main dish, a side, and/or the bread component of your meal. They are perfect for summer, too. For just when you just can’t bear to turn on the oven, they cook quickly on the stovetop.

I have many favorite combinations for fritters. Grated zucchini or summer squash pair well with herbs and flour or breadcrumbs. Corn cut fresh from the cob gets an extra dose of corn flavor from stone ground cornmeal. Whenever I have leftover rice in the refrigerator, they make the perfect basis for a fritter, delicious with cheese, beans, or seafood. Serve them with a simple salad or top with a dollop of chutney or sour cream.

Here are a couple of my favorites, with guidelines for making them your own.

Okra FrittersServes four as a main course, or eight as an appetizer

Fritters are often deep-fried, but in my version I simply pan fry them in the smallest amount of oil for a healthier, neater and more economical version. For fluffier, fancier fritters, beat the egg whites to soft peaks separately of the yolks and fold them in at the end. Leftover batter holds well in the refrigerator for a couple of days. I absolutely love these fritters with a Indian-style tomato chutney.

1 1/2 cups stone ground cornmeal (or crumbled cornbread OR cooked rice) 2 teaspoons baking powder3/4-1 cup buttermilk, or milk or yogurt2 eggs, lightly beaten4 cups thinly sliced okra (see suggested substitutions and other additions below)A big pinch of cayenne Salt and pepperolive, safflower, or other neutral vegetable oil for frying

Measure the cornmeal and the baking powder into a medium bowl and whisk to blend. Mix in all the remaining ingredients together except the oil. Season with about 1 teaspoon of salt and a big pinch of black pepper and cayenne pepper.

Film a large skillet (or two) with about 2 Tablespoons or so of olive oil. When the pan is hot (on medium heat), drop heaping tablespoons of batter into the skillet. Cook over medium to medium low heat until dark golden brown on the bottom, about 3 minutes. Flip and cook the second side. Eat while hot with salsa, chutney, or other condiment.

Substitutions: fresh corn cut off the cob, diced green tomatoes, cooked shell beans or field peas, coarsely mashedAdditions: diced hot pepper, diced onion, garlic, herbs, spices

Fritter your life away in style.Photo: April McGregerZucchini Fritters Serves four as a main course, or eight as an appetizer

Fritters are easy, resilient, and flexible. Excess water from vegetables such as zucchini, however, can result in soggy fritters. We remedy that problem by salting and squeezing out the excess water before mixing it with the batter.

4 cups grated zucchini (1 ½ to 2 pounds), squeezed dryAbout 1 ½ cups of bread crumbs, flour, or cornmeal2 teaspoon baking powder2 eggs, beaten4 scallions, chopped including the greens2 garlic cloves, chopped1/2 cup chopped herbs—any or a combination of parsley, cilantro, basil, mintsalt and pepperA splash of milk or buttermilk, if needed, to give the batter a spoonable textureOlive oil for the pan

Sprinkle about 1 ½ teaspoons salt over the grated zuchinni and set it aside in a colander to drain for 15 minutes. Meanwhile, mix the remaining ingredients together except the oil. After 15 minutes squeeze any excess water from the zuchinni and then mix it with the batter. Season with a big pinch of black pepper. Film a large skillet (or two) with 1 Tablespoon or so olive oil. When the pan is hot (on medium heat) drop heaping tablespoons of batter into the skillet. Cook over medium heat until golden brown on the bottom. Flip and cook the second side. Eat while hot with sour cream, yogurt, or salsa verde.

Substitutions: grated eggplant, butternut squash, sweet potato, cubes of roasted vegetablesAdditions: cheese, other spices or herbs, seeds or nuts.

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This Halloween, have your pumpkin—and eat it, too

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This is the time of year when the produce at the farmer’s market is so perfect and so abundant, that with little more than a drizzle of vinaigrette you can create refreshing salads, which are what I truly crave this time of year. I have found that if I spend as little as half an hour twice a week, I can keep my refrigerator stocked with delicious and nutritious salads that keep my family and me eating healthfully as well as supporting our local farmers.

When I head to the market, I buy what appeals to me with faith that I can turn those vegetables and fruit into delicious meals with just a few ingredients from my pantry. I have standard salads that I turn to again and again, like cucumbers and onions, with nothing more than a drizzle of vinegar and a pinch of salt and sugar. I love blanched green and yellow wax beans, which I keep in plastic bags in the refrigerator for snacking as well as adding to salads. With a creamy dip, they are the favorite snack of my nieces and nephews on our beach trips. If we fire up the grill, we are sure to throw on way more vegetables than we can eat so that we have extra for the rest of the week. Grilled corn and red peppers get thrown into everything and charred eggplants get mixed with a bit of garlic, tahini, and lemon juice to become baba ghanoush for stuffing into pita bread.

Every year it seems that I always add a few new salads to the mix as well. This year, I am mad over farro. Farro is an ancient wheat, also known as emmer wheat, with a nutty flavor and an appealing texture that is popular in Italian cooking. It has been my go-to grain since early spring when I began combining it with roasted broccoli and preserved lemon for a totally satisfying, substantial salad. Farro is at the ready to rescue you from your pasta-salad malaise. It can be combined with just about anything. Cherry tomatoes, basil, and olives are traditional, but my favorite summer salad this year is black-pepper spiked farro with cantaloupe, cucumber, mint, and feta. It’s unexpected, a complete meal, and totally refreshing. When I am at the beach, I love to throw boiled or grilled shrimp or squid in this salad as well.

Photo: April McGregerFarro with cantaloupe, cucumber, feta, and mint 1 1/2 cups farro1 half medium, fragrant cantaloupe, seeded2 pickling cucumbers or 1 large cucumber1 large shallot, chopped1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil3 Tablespoons Sherry or red wine vinegar2 big handfuls of mint leaves, half chopped, half as whole leavessalt1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper1/3 cup crumbled feta

Cook farro in large saucepan of boiling salted water until just tender or according to your package directions. Depending on whether you are using semi-pearled or regular farro, it could take between 10 and 45 minutes. Drain. Transfer to large bowl.

Meanwhile, peel the ½ cantaloupe and cut it into wedges about 1 1/2- inches wide. Thinly slice the wedges and place in a medium bowl. Thinly slice the cucumber as well and add to the bowl with the cantaloupe along with a few pinches of salt.

Dice the shallot and place in a small bowl with a large pinch of salt. Add the vinegar to the bowl and whisk in the olive oil. Season dressing with a full teaspoon of black pepper and the chopped mint. Add the dressing, the cantaloupe, the cucumber, the feta, and the mint leaves to the farro and toss to combine. Taste for seasoning and add more salt, vinegar, or olive oil if needed. Refrigerate at least 30 minutes before serving.

Photo: April McGregerThree-bean salad with tomato vinaigrette When I bring home an array of fresh beans from the market, I immediately blanch them and place them in plastic bags in the refrigerator. Then they are ready for snacking and tossing into salads like this one. I also love them tossed with boiled new potatoes in stone ground mustard vinaigrette. If you don’t have access to fresh shell beans, you can leave them out. But if you do, please try them. They add extra protein, folic acid, as well as a lot of flavor. Try fresh field peas, butterbeans, garbanzos, runner beans, and more. You can also use canned beans, just rinse and drain them first.

1 pound mixed stringless beans—I used green beans and yellow wax beans1 cup fresh shell beans, such as cranberry beans, field peas, or butterbeans or drained, canned garbanzo beansA handful of olives, pitted and halved 1 cup chopped good tomatoes (I used my roasted heirloom tomatoes) 1 large shallot, diced fine2-3 tablespoons red wine vinegar1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oilSalt and pepperA handful of fresh basil leaves

Trim the beans and set aside. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Parboil the shell beans in salted water until tender, about 15 minutes, depending on the type of bean. With a slotted spoon or small strainer remove the beans from the water and spread out to cool quickly. Blanch the green and wax beans in same salted water until just tender, about four to five minutes. Drain and immediately dunk in an ice water bath or spread them out to cool. Pit and halve the olives and add to the beans.

Place the diced shallot in a small bowl or a jar with a lid and add a large pinch of salt. Add the vinegar, then whisk in the olive oil. Stir in the chopped tomatoes. Add more salt and freshly ground pepper. Toss in all the beans and the basil leaves. To preserve the vibrant color of the beans, don’t toss with the vinaigrette more than two hours before serving. Delicious cold or at room temperature.

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This Halloween, have your pumpkin—and eat it, too

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Would a summer without garden-grown tomatoes really be summer at all? For me, summer is: tomatoes ripening on the windowsill; picking the hornworms off the tomato plants; a huge bowl of tomatoes on the kitchen counter; tomatoes at every single meal; farmer’s markets so packed with dazzling tomato colors and sensual shapes, they outshine the fresh-cut flowers.

I relish the first tomatoes of the season in their purest, raw form: tomato sandwiches, BLTs; cucumber-tomato salads; classic panzanella salad of tomato-drenched crusty bread, scented with intoxicating fresh basil and briny with anchovies & capers; and simple stacks of olive oil-drizzled, salted, jewel-toned tomatoes. But alas, the time comes when I want something different. Finally, it’s time to cook them.

My idea of tomato sauce was changed forever the summer that I spent on the Aeolian island of Stromboli off the coast of Sicily, gathering seismic data which would be the basis for my master’s thesis in geology. I was there to study geology, but it was the rich food culture of this tiny, isolated island that captured my imagination. In the tiny market in the village, deep-red cherry tomatoes hung from the rafters by their 4-foot plus brown stems.

The tomatoes were sold semi-dried, following an old Sicilian tradition of hanging small cherry tomatoes outside in the sun for three to four days after harvest to profoundly concentrate their flavors. My Italian colleagues turned these tomatoes into the quickest, easiest, most succulent pasta sauces that I had ever eaten. Using the sweet 100 or sungold cherry tomatoes from my own garden and farmer’s market produces a close approximation, and it remains the first cooked tomato dish that I turn to in the summer.

Following the Sicilian sentiment that excess water is the enemy of tomatoes, I have found the best tomatoes for this sauce are often grown by young farmers or new farmers who haven’t yet saved up the capital to put in an irrigation system. Without the irrigation, the farmer’s tomatoes may not grow as large or yield as much, but they will be the most delicious. Like wine grapes, you see, tomatoes benefit from a bit of suffering.

Briefly, I am content with impeccable fresh tomatoes and an intensely flavored, effortless, and fresh sauce. That contentment quickly subsides and every glorious tomato I pass by at the farmer’s market looks like a missed opportunity to preserve the pleasure for when the bounty ends. Lives get busy; summer vacations draw us away from our gardens and our kitchens; and yet, the seasons roll on. Before we know it, the seemingly endless supply of tomatoes will start to dwindle whether or not we’ve made time to capture these nuanced flavors for enjoyment beyond the dog days of summer. Months without a taste of the dark & smoky Cherokee Purple, the bright yellow Kellogg’s Breakfast, or the zippy striped Green Zebra seems unbearable and, thankfully, unnecessary.

I get to work putting a few pints by here and there. Similarly to the Sicilian semi-sundried tomatoes, large and juicy heirloom tomatoes can be slow-roasted in a low oven to reduce excess liquid, concentrate flavor, and increase acidity. Plus, we can keep the oven at such a low temperature that it doesn’t even heat up the house. As an added bonus, this method couldn’t be easier. There’s no peeling or seeding involved. Even if you don’t can them, they will keep covered in olive oil for several months in your refrigerator, where they will serve as your secret weapon. Chop for an instant pasta sauce; add zip to beans or soups; use as the basis for roasted tomato vinaigrette; pair with fresh mozzarella & a loaf of bread for a perfect picnic. The possibilities are endless, and the flavor is unparalleled. So what are you waiting for?Roasted Heirloom TomatoesIf you like you can pack different varieties of tomatoes in alternating layers in your canning jar, or you can separate them by color for more distinctive tastes and hues.

Makes about 3 pint jars10 pounds heirloom tomatoes1 head of garlic, cloves separated but not peeledA couple of shallots, halved, but not peeled, optionalA handful of thyme sprigs1 cup extra virgin olive oil2-3 teaspoons kosher or sea saltYour favorite fresh herbs for tomatoes—basil, marjoram, or oreganoA few dried red chili peppers, optionalLine 2 sheet pans with parchment paper or foil. Preheat your oven to 250 degrees F.Rinse your tomatoes, and slice them in half across their equator, or into thirds if they are particularly large. Line them on the baking sheet in a single layer, seed side up. Drizzle generously with olive oil. Scatter the garlic cloves, shallots, garlic, and thyme over the tomatoes. Sprinkle each tray of tomatoes with 1 teaspoon of salt.

Place the tomatoes in the oven and roast for about 6 hours, until much of the tomato juices have evaporated, and the slices have shrunk to about ½ their original size.

Let the tomatoes cool at room temperature. Then with a spatula transfer the slices to your very clean pint jars (wide mouth canning jars will be easiest to deal with.) Layer fresh basil, or your preferred herb, between the slices of tomato, as well as the cloves of garlic and shallots that you squeeze from their hulls. Leave about 1 inch of headspace at the top of each jar. Choose your Preserving Method

• Short-term: top with a 1 inch thick layer of olive oil and a clean lid, and they will keep in your refrigerator for 3-4 months.

• Long-term: Top the jars off with a thin layer of olive oil, leaving a good inch of head space. Date the jars and place them without lids into the freezer. Because liquid expands as it freezes, it is best to let the jars freeze without lids first to be sure that the jars to not crack. After your tomatoes are frozen, you can top with clean lids, and they will keep for up to one year. Alternately, pack the tomatoes in quart freezer bags, date them, and keep them for up to 1 year in your freezer.

• Long Term Shelf - Pack tomatoes into sterilized jars, leaving about 1 inch of head space. Add 1 teaspoon of lemon juice or red wine vinegar to your tomatoes and top off with extra virgin olive oil, leaving a final 1/2 -inch of head space. The added lemon juice or vinegar increases the acidity of your tomatoes even further to prevent the growth toxins or bacteria. Top with sterilized lids. Line the bottom of a large pot or canning kettle with a folded dishtowel. Place your jars of tomatoes in the kettle on top of the dish towel at least ½ inch apart. Fill the pot with water until it covers the tops of the jars by at least one inch. Bring the pot of water to a low boil. Adjust the heat to maintain a steady simmer and process the jars for 30 minutes. Carefully remove the jars with a jar lifter and place on a clean towel to cool completely without disturbing. Store on a cool, dry shelf for up to 1 year. Massimo’s Pasta StromboliDon’t skimp on the amount of olive oil in this pasta sauce and try to use a Mediterranean one with a nice, fruity taste. It really makes the dish.Serves about 41/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil4 cloves garlic, thinly sliced2 pints cherry tomatoes, such as Sweet 100 or Sun Golds, whole2/3 cup of good green olives, such as Picholineabout 20 fresh oregano or marjoram leaves or about ½ teaspoon of either, dried3-4 dried hot peppers, optionalA teaspoon of salt-brined capers, rinsed and chopped (skip if all you have are the pickled kind)1 pound penne or rigatoni pastaBring a large pot of salty water to boil. Cook the pasta until al dente, reserving some pasta water.While the pasta cooks, make the sauce. First, with the side of your chef’s knife, smash the olives and remove the pits. Set aside.Then, heat a large skillet or sauté pan with the olive oil over medium-high heat. Add the garlic and cook, stirring constantly, for only about 15-30 seconds, until it just begins to color.Add the tomatoes, oregano or marjoram (reserve a few fresh leaves for sprinkling at the end), pitted olives, capers and hot peppers, if using, and cook until the tomatoes just begin to burst, about 5 minutes.Add the cooked pasta to the skillet and cook over high heat, stirring, for an additional minute to marry the flavors. Moisten with a tablespoon of olive oil and/or a bit of pasta water, garnish with the reserved herbs, and serve immediately.

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This Halloween, have your pumpkin—and eat it, too

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I’m bored by chocoholics.

Don’t get me wrong; I very much appreciate good chocolate. But after attending four cookouts in the past month without a fruit-based dessert in sight I have had enough. Had the scent of perfectly ripe peaches somehow escaped my hosts? Are they unaware of the painfully short cherry season—whose end is near?

What about all the bramble berries that line the ditches and roadsides this time of year? What sort of person does not delight in these things? Please, hold the chocolate cupcakes. It’s summer—the season for peach juice dripping down our elbows and blackberry-stained T-shirts.

Perhaps there is something anxiety-producing about preparing fresh fruit desserts. I admit homemade pie crust can be difficult for the uninitiated. But anybody, oh anybody, can make a cobbler, and there is no dessert more rewarding. Because cobblers are spooned into bowls rather than sliced and served up on plates, you can get away with less thickening agent, such as cornstarch or flour. This means more fruit juices and more vibrant flavor.

What could be better than bubbling fruits of summer with golden biscuit topping and just melting vanilla bean-flecked ice cream? Cobblers are as easy as whipping up a pan of brownies, and with a few tips, you’ll be free to do your own experimenting. After all, that is what being inspired by the season’s best is all about. Here’s what you need to know:

Follow your nose, wherever it may lead.

Cobbler 101Use the best fruit you can find. Use your nose, your eyes, and your mouth to find the best fruit. Peaches should smell like peaches and should be without a trace of green (which means they were picked too early). Berries should be sweet, not just tart. Cherries should look shiny and firm without brown spots. You can forage your own bramble berries from unpolluted areas for a very thrifty cobbler. Shop farmer’s markets and pick-your-own operations to find the season’s best. Pick-your-own orchards are a great way to get out into the countryside, and offer much more than just the amazing fruit for an amazing price that you’ll take home. I feel like a kid again every time I climb the wooden ladders to pick cherries at my favorite cherry orchard.

• Crisps, crumbles, fruit dumplings, betties, grunts, sonkers, slumps: all are all essentially cobblers with slightly different toppings, assemblies, and cooking methods. Below I’m offering you two recipes, one with vegan options, as a start.

Follow your own inspiration and free yourself from recipes once you’ve learned the basics.

• Plan now for spontaneous cobbler later. Whenever I find perfect fruit, I always buy or pick a lot. Plenty to enjoy now, and some to put by for later. For berries, cherries (pitted), and peaches (sliced first), I spread them out in a single layer on a sheet pan and put them directly in the freezer. When they have frozen completely, I transfer them to a freezer bag and date it. Cobbler is a snap to throw together any time, but making double batches of topping and freezing half for later makes the next cobbler even easier, and halves the cleanup time as well. I keep a bag of frozen crisp topping, rolled pie crust, or drop biscuit cobbler topping in the freezer for instant cobbler assembly.

Still life, with cherry bucket and scale

To freeze drop biscuit topping, spoon it out onto a parchment-lined baking sheet and freeze it. After it is frozen, transfer it to a freezer bag and label it. You can bake the fruit and the toppings directly from the freezer without defrosting.

• Don’t forget the ice cream. Make your own, or pair your cobbler with Grist’s favorites (both dairy-based and vegan). You can also serve up your cobbler with whipped cream or crème fraiche, or a non-dairy treat.

Cobbling it all togetherUse these recipes as a guide for getting started, but let your local fruit options and what’s in your pantry inspire your combinations. I had sour cherries in my freezer and perfectly ripe peaches on my countertop so that’s how I chose this cobbler. Their color combination is stunning and their flavors complement each other well. I like the texture that oat flour adds to biscuits and scones and its flavor goes very well with peaches, as does the cardamom. I love the rustic look of cobblers made in cast iron skillets (I used a 10”), but you can use a 2 1/2 quart casserole or pyrex dish, too.

For biscuit cobblers, the topping is not very sweet so a fair amount of sugar is added to the fruit. Crisps offer a sweeter topping so the fruit is less sweet to balance it out. For the crisp recipe featured below, I combined blackberries and blueberries with a  vegan coconut-almond topping. It’s just as beautiful as it is delicious.

Sour Cherry & Peach Cobbler with Oat-Cardamom Biscuit ToppingAbout 8-10 servings

Filling 1 tablespoon butter, softened 4 cups fruit (I used 2 cups pitted cherries, 2 cups unpeeled, sliced peaches)Pinch of salt1 Tablespoon cornstarch or arrowroot½ cup sugar Pulp of half of a vanilla bean, or 1 Tablespoon of vanilla extract

Drop Biscuit Topping1 cup unbleached all purpose or pastry flour1 cup oat flour (rolled oats processed in the food processor or coffee grinder to a coarse meal), or substitute whole wheat pastry flour, cornmeal, buckwheat flour, nut meal, or other flour2 Tablespoons turbinado sugar, divided1 ½ teaspoons baking powder½ teaspoon salt, preferably fine sea salt½ teaspoon ground cardamom, optional (you can also substitute cinnamon)¾ stick (6 tablespoons) very cold unsalted butter, cut into ½ inch cubes1 cup very cold buttermilk or plain yogurt2 Tablespoon cream to brush the tops of the biscuits

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Butter a 10-inch cast iron skillet or a 2 ½- to 3-quart casserole or pyrex dish with 1 tablespoon of soft butter.

Prepare the filling. In the buttered pan, combine fruit, sugar, salt, cornstarch, and vanilla. Set aside while you prepare your biscuit topping.

To make the biscuits, whisk together the flours, 1 tablespoon sugar, baking powder, and salt. Toss in the butter cubes, and using your fingers, a fork, or a pastry cutter, cut the butter in the flour until it is the size of large peas. Quickly, stir in the buttermilk until just combined. Dollop large spoonfuls of the biscuit dough onto the top of your prepared fruit. Leave spaces between the dropped biscuits for the cobbler filling to shine through. Brush the tops of the biscuits with cream and sprinkle with the reserved tablespoon of turbinado sugar.

Bake for about 45-50 minutes, until the biscuits are golden brown and the fruit is bubbling. Serve warm with ice cream.

Vegan Blackberry-Blueberry Coconut Crisp 1 Tablespoon virgin coconut oil4 cups or 2 pints mixed blackberries and blueberries2 tablespoons natural cane sugar Pinch of salt1 ½ teaspoons cornstarch or arrowroot1 teaspoon grated lemon or lime zest, optional

Coconut Almond Streusel Topping3/4 cup all purpose flour, rolled oats, a mixture, or a gluten free baking substitute½ cup packed brown sugar Rounded ¼ teaspoon sea salt1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon1/8 teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg6 tablespoons virgin coconut oil, room temperature1/2 cup shredded unsweetened coconut2/3 cup sliced almonds (about 2 3/4 ounces)

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Grease a 10-inch cast iron skillet or a 2 ½- to 3-quart casserole dish with the tablespoon of coconut oil. In the prepared pan, prepare the filling. Toss together the blueberries, sugar, salt, cornstarch, and citrus zest. Set aside while you prepare the topping.To make the topping, combine the flour, brown sugar, salt, and spices. Using your fingers, cut in the coconut oil until it is the size of large peas. Stir in the coconut flakes and sliced almonds. Crumble the topping on top of the blueberries. Bake about 45 minutes, until the topping is golden brown and the filling is bubbling.

Some other favorite cobbler combos:Blackberry-Raspberry Cobbler with Buckwheat Biscuit toppingPlum Pecan CrispBlackberry-Blueberry Cobbler with Cornmeal Biscuit topping

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This Halloween, have your pumpkin—and eat it, too

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In a medium mixing bowl, combine the dry ingredients - cornmeal, flour, baking soda, and salt - with a whisk. In another medium bowl, whisk together the egg, buttermilk, and melted butter.Whisk the dry ingredients into the wet ingredient until just combined. Some small lumps are okay. Be careful not to over mix.

Heat a heavy bottomed skillet or griddle over medium heat.  Grease the pan lightly with butter. Spoon the pancake batter into the hot skillet, using about 2-3 tablespoons per pancake. Cook on one side until bubbles appear on the surface of the pancake and flip. Cook the pancakes another minute on the other side. Place on a plate in a warm oven to hold warm until all the pancakes are cooked.

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This Halloween, have your pumpkin—and eat it, too

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Add delicious, smoke-kissed food, and you have a wholly sensory experience. All of my favorite food experiences take place outdoor over a hardwood fire: oyster roasts, hickory-smoked barbecue, and wood-fired pizza. I have come to believe that my happiness and well-being is dependent on my ability to gaze up into a tree canopy while sharing a fire, a meal, and maybe a song, with friends.

Perhaps that explains why the first thing Phil and I did when we bought our first home six years ago, was build an earthen oven in the backyard. We had just found out that we had three small hickory trees on our property that had been damaged by lightening and would have to come down. I knew we couldn’t let the wood from our dead trees go to waste so we stacked it up into a grand woodpile and went to work. We turned clay, sand, and straw into a beautiful and effective oven, following the instructions of Kinko Denzer’s Build Your Own Earth Oven.

The egalitarian nature and the organic forms of earthen, or cob, building had fascinated me for years before we broke ground on our oven. It requires no great skill, expense, or tools. Even children can participate mixing the mud mixture and sculpting it into place. The technology is ancient, and mud is still the most common building material in the world today. Perhaps best of all, this type of building is completely non-toxic, can be sourced from your own yard, and is completely recyclable.

The magic of mud and wood: a backyard earthen pizza oven heats upPhoto: Whitney BrownOur resulting oven might not have all the bells and whistles of the $20,000 outdoor kitchens featured in glossy food magazines, but for less than $200 and a little sweat, I think we built something far more magical. In the years since building our oven, we have gotten so attached to our backyard pizza parties that I cannot imagine ever being without them. These primordial traditions of fire, earthen building, and basic flour and water cooking bolster our connection to both the past and to each other.

Perhaps building an earthen oven is not for everyone, but I am sure most of you have a grill that you can fire up for making pizzas. Even if you just want to use your home oven equipped with a pizza stone, pizza is a great way to please everyone, let those who want to pitch in, and adapt your toppings to the seasons. If you’d like to host a pizza party, here are a few tips to help things go smoothly. The key is good planning and good fundamentals.

Get it together: a pizza party mis en placePhoto: Whitney BrownPerfect Pizza DoughThis is my favorite dough for making pizza. I like to make it a day ahead and place it in the refrigerator overnight to rise slowly. Then on the day I make pizzas I can concentrate on assembling my toppings and building the fire. When I make the dough I like to use part all-purpose and part bread flour, as well as a little whole-wheat flour for flavor and texture. You can use even more whole wheat flour, you just might need to add a bit more water as well.

Sponge: 1 ½ cups warm water (105-115 degrees F)2 cups unbleached all-purpose or bread flour2 ¼ teaspoons (1 package) active dry yeast2 teaspoons honey (optional) Dough:Sponge3 Tablespoons extra virgin olive oil2 teaspoons fine sea salt OR 3 teaspoons of kosher salt1 cup whole wheat flour2 cups all purpose or bread flour

To make the sponge, sprinkle the yeast over the water in a large mixing bowl, whisk it in, and let stand until creamy, about 10 minutes. Stir in the honey and then the flour. Cover tightly with plastic wrap and let rise until very bubbly and doubled in bulk, 1-1 ½ hours. To make the dough, stir olive oil and salt into the sponge with a wooden spoon and mix well. Whisk in 1 cup of the whole wheat flour; stir in the remaining flour, 1/2 cup at a time, and mix until the dough is well blended and just slightly sticky. You may not need the last ½ cup of flour. Cover the dough and let it rest for 5 minutes. Then knead the dough on a lightly floured surface until soft and velvety, about 10 minutes. First rise: Place the dough in a lightly oiled container, cover it tightly with plastic wrap, and let rise until doubled, about 1 1/4 hours or preferably overnight in the refrigerator. Shaping and second rise: If you refrigerated your dough, remove it from the refrigerator about 2 hours before you wish to use it. Divide the dough into 4 equal pieces and shape them into balls. Rub each of the balls of dough with olive oil, place them on a parchment lined sheet pan, and cover with a clean towel.When your oven or grill is hot, roll out 1 piece of dough on a well-floured counter or use your knuckles to gently stretch out the pizza dough. Don’t worry if you don’t get a perfect circle. That is part of the charm.

My Favorite Five-Minute Tomato Sauce for PizzaI make a basic tomatosauce in late summer with fresh paste tomatoes and can it for use allyear long. For this one, I turn to store-bought canned tomatoes. Iprefer whole plum tomatoes, such as the Fire Roasted Muir Glen brand,or the prized San Marzanos.

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil    1 28-ounce can whole tomatoes1 teaspoon fine grained sea salt1 small sprig of fresh marjoram, oregano or a few leaves of basil1 ½ teaspoons crushed red chili flakes2 cloves very fresh garlic, grated2 teaspoons red wine vinegarIna wide saucepan heat the olive oil over medium high heat until hot butnot smoking. Pour in the can of tomatoes and crush them with yourfingers or the back of a wooden spoon. Add the salt, the fresh herbs,and the chili flake and cook over medium high heat until much of theexcess moisture has evaporated, about 3 minutes. Add the raw, gratedgarlic and cook another two minutes. Add the red wine vinegar andremove from heat. Discard the herbs. Taste and add more salt or chiliflakes if you like. Cool before using as a pizza topping.

Pizza Toppings for Late SpringThese toppings are just to giveyou an idea of a starting point. Choose your own favorites. Justremember to start with either an olive oil brushed crust or tomatosauce. Use toppings sparingly so that your crust does not get soggy.Place each topping in a small bowl of its own. Pre-cook the bacon,sausage, greens, mushrooms, caramelized onions, and any topping youchoose that will not cook very quickly. For quick cooking greens likedandelion, I just toss them in a bit of olive oil and salt and pepperbefore throwing them on a pizza.

In the OvenIf cooking the pizza in the oven, indoors or outdoors, slide the stretched or rolled-out dough onto a cornmeal or semolina dusted pizza peel and add your toppings. Be reserved with toppings and try not to get anything wet on the pizza peel or your pizza may stick. When your pizza is topped, jiggle the pizza peel to see if the pizza slides around freely. If the pizza appears to be stuck, use a spatula or bench scraper to loosen the dough from the peel and toss a bit more cornmeal under that section of the dough.

Next, slide the pizza onto the clean floor of your pizza oven or onto a baking stone in your home oven. Bake until the pizza is bubbly, and the crust is well browned. It will take as few as 3-4 minutes in a hot pizza oven or about 10 minutes in a home oven on a pizza stone.

On the GrillFor grilled pizzas, slide your rolled-out dough onto the back (bottom side) of a well-oiled sheet pan. Brush the top of the pizza with olive oil and have all the rest of your toppings ready. Things will happen fast once the pizza is on the grill so you must be ready. Keep the toppings very simple. Slide your prepared dough onto the grill over direct heat. Cook about 2 minutes, just to sear the bottom of the dough. After 1 minute, lift up the edge of the dough to be sure you aren’t burning it. If you are, move the dough to a cooler spot on the grill.

When the underside of the dough is seared, flip it with a pair of long-handled tongs. Immediately brush the top with olive oil and add your toppings. You will most likely need to close the grill to cook the top of the pizza. When the toppings are bubbly and the cheese is beginning to brown, the pizza is done. Transfer to a cutting board and serve.

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This Halloween, have your pumpkin—and eat it, too

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I found the market shelves stocked with lovely loaves of ciabatta, baguette, marble rye, and challah, but I was most intrigued by a few loaves that I knew at first glance were special. Packaged in brown paper bags with a hand-stamped wood-cut logo, the loaves were not internationally known bread classics. Instead, their labels heralded unusual ingredients: “Heirloom Grit” and “Kamut.” These intriguing loaves came from a bakery called Farm and Sparrow.

I couldn’t resist calling up David Bauer, Farm and Sparrow’s owner and baker, to arrange a visit. Through my talk with Bauer, I realized he represents a new type of baker. He sees himself as part of a larger decentralized, healthy, and diverse food system. The kamut, spelt, and buckwheat that you find in Farm and Sparrow’s breads are known as landrace grains—grains that developed in the absence of modern breeding techniques. Landrace grains tend to be tougher, more resilient, and not dependent on chemical fertilizers, intense irrigation, and pesticides in order to survive.

Bauer sells his breads at the tailgate farmer’s markets throughout the Asheville area. He is deeply committed to his local food community. Unlike most bakers who buy flour, Bauer sources whole grains, which he grinds himself the same day he makes his bread.

For him, the ideal would be to source grain locally. But finding locally or even regionally grown grain is nearly impossible in the United States today. The reason for this scarcity lies in the industrialization of agriculture over the last century, which went hand in hand with the consolidation of food processing.

A loaf of bread made of locally grown and stone-ground grains requires a certain kind of infrastructure that disappeared almost completely from our national landscape in the 1880s, with the introduction of the steel-roller mill and the rise hard Midwest-grown wheat. The steel-roller mill could efficiently remove the perishable germ and bran from wheat berries, creating a shelf-stable flour that could easily travel long distances.

Before this development, local mills had been necessary because flour had a shelf life of approximately one week. After, flour could be stored for months. Scalping the bran and the germ from wheat, however, meant stripping away key nutrients and fiber. This technological advance represented a nutritional step backward. 

Flour then went on to be the first food to be centrally produced and widely distributed. What essentially amounted to the dumping of cheap, Midwest-grown wheat on the rest of the country resulted in the erosion of regional grain markets as local farmers couldn’t compete with the prices of cheap Midwestern wheat. The new roller mill technology also didn’t work as well on the softer wheat varieties that grew in most of the rest of the country. So the disappearance of the small stone mill meant the disappearance of softer varieties of wheat as well—and the homogenization of U.S. bread making.

In the 125 years since, this transformation has been little noticed and mostly forgotten. Then in 2007-2008, global wheat prices soared for a variety of reasons, ranging from the U.S. biofuel boom to a drought in Australia’s bread basket. Suddenly, bakers had to begin thinking hard about this fundamental ingredient that they had long taken for granted. Was it really worth it to pay top dollar for the same old mediocre hard-wheat flour they had been using for years? They began to see how their total reliance on Midwest wheat affected their regional food security—and, given the sudden prices volatility, their very viability as businesses. By fall 2008, high flour prices had pushed bakeries nationwide into a state of crisis.

Creative loafingPhoto: April McGregerIt was through my conversation with Bauer that I first learned of a group of bakers, millers, and farmers in North Carolina working collectively to do something about it by bringing back regional grain husbandry through the North Carolina Organic Bread Flour Project.

Jennifer Lapidus, an immensely talented and principled bread baker of the now defunct Natural Bridge Bakery, is the project manager of the grant. She brings her experience as a baker to the table in hopes that by working cooperatively the group can successfully navigate the tricky task of developing supply and demand simultaneously.

I headed back out to Asheville a few weeks later for the Artisan Bread Festival to learn more about the NCOBFP, a major topic of discussion for this year’s event. Glenn Roberts of South Carolina-based Anson Mills—which has done amazing work preserving southern grain traditions—was a featured speaker. He gave bakers some insight into the grain husbandry of yesteryear and a glimpse of our future as breadmakers.Roberts predicted that we are moving back towards the old tradition of an average of 30 mills per county. Modern laboratory-developed wheat is failing us, he said: yields are plummeting as salt builds up in the soil from excessive irrigation. Meanwhile, new diseases pop up faster than the labs can generate resistant strands. The solution lies in biodiversity: a move back to region-appropriate, more robust wheat varieties, grown not in vast uniform fields but rather in combination with other crops.  

In order to grow wheat while maintaining the health of the land, one also has to grow buckwheat, sorghum, and cowpeas—a legume that fixes nitrogen, suppresses a pest called nematodes, and keeps down weeds. Reviving regional grain-growing means a return to whole-system agriculture, and Roberts predicts it will happen sooner than we think. For the health of people, of communities, and of the land, I stand with a group of micro-scale bakers like Lapidus and Bauer, who are ready to take on the challenge of developing intensely flavorful bread and pastries with unstandardized, capricious, and diverse locally produced grains. Market Brown BreadMaking yeasted breads with small batch flours requires a bit of experimentation, scientific inquiry, careful observation, and an open mind. Anson Mills has a wonderful, informative website with lots of well tested recipes for using their products. If you are lucky enough to find a farmer growing wheat or cornmeal for sale at your farmer’s market, I find it easiest to first experiment with quickbreads, biscuits, and pancakes. If you can’t find locally grown grain in your area, let your favorite farmers know you would be a regular buyer if they grew it. Here’s a quick and easy recipe for a very satisfying, unyeasted brown bread that was the first bread I made with 100 percent locally grown grains. Feel free to experiment with your grains since the bread is quite forgiving. Unlike most quickbreads, this one is not a dessert bread but the perfect accompaniment to dinner. With a simple carrot-ginger soup, it makes a lovely spring meal. 3 cups whole wheat flour (or rye or ground oats)1 cup cornmeal (or other grain)1/2 teaspoon salt1 teaspoon baking soda1 egg1 3/4 - 2 cups buttermilk2 Tablespoons sorghum, molasses, honey or maple syrup4 Tablespoons melted butter(optional - a handful of raisins or nuts)Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Grease a 1 pound loaf pan and dust it with cornmeal. Set aside. In a medium bowl, stir together the flour, cornmeal, salt, and baking soda. In a separate bowl, whisk together the egg and the buttermilk. Beat in the butter and the sorghum. Stir the buttermilk mixture into the flour mixture. Different flours absorb different amounts of liquid so you may need to add another splash or two of buttermilk to get your batter to the right consistency. It should be thick but still pourable.  Spoon it into the loaf pan and cook for 50 minutes on the middle rack. To test for doneness, insert a toothpick into the center of the bread dough, and it should come out clean. If your bread is getting too dark on top, you can cover the top loosely with foil. Let the bread cool in the tin for 5 minutes, then remove from the tin onto a rack to cool at least 30 minutes before serving. Serve warm with fresh butter. Makes 1 loaf.  

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