cooking can be god through Nash's Farmshare Recipes, October 6th 2006

It's too early to be late and tomorrow's already a fading fact so let my delays know lawn care --

-- Potato Salad: the next generation --

two hands of yukon gold potatoes
the greens from your skulking yellow beets
a few cloves of garlic, minced
a hot chile, minced, optional
some dill
a fat cup of yogurt
some juice from a lemon

Wake up and take a clean cheesecloth, rag, or unclaimed t-shirt from its rightful owner. You will be making a version of labneh, a popular Lebanese experience somewhere between yogurt and cheese. Chop the dill with a fine eye and mix it, along with some good salt, into the yogurt. Envelop the yogurt in the t-shirt and hang somewhere unobtrusive for a few hours. After a day the yogurt will have dired into cheese and you can use it for some other dish. For the potato salad, however, only let it hang for a few hours (perhaps 6?) until it fools itself into a thicker, creamier body image. Welcome to the New Mayonnaisse.

Wash your hands and potatoes well (naturally) and steam or boil (again, always, forever, with salt) them until tender (ten minutes, missile time). Roughly chop the beet greens and drape over the cooking spuds for their final moments of glory, just enough to wilt and to brighten the leaves. Remove both leaves and potatoes and let them be cool for an infinite moment. Slice the yukons into delectable bite size morsels and set aside.

Toss the leaves with salt, black pepper, and lemon juice. Toss the potatoes with minced garlic and optional chile. If Nash had bothered to give you celery or cabbage, they would surely have been invited as well. Bah, c'est notre vie.

Mix enough New Mayonnaisse with the potatoes to coat but not smother, testing for salt and balance. Layer the bottom of your serving dish with the beet greens, peaking out attractively as a pie crust would. Pour the filling onto the crust, dusting with lemon juice and ground cayenne. Chill in the shade or other refrigerator. The hot of the dill, garlic, and chile arbitrate perfectly with the cool of the yogurt, potatoes, and morning air.


-- Oatmeal Goodness Cookies --

For something (almost) completely different, give the following cookie recipe a shot. Remember friends, while baking, quantities are important.

dry:
two cups flour
one and a half cups rolled oats
a teaspoon baking soda
half a teaspoon salt
one spoon freshly ground cinnamon
half a teaspoon of nutmeg

wet:
3/4 cup maple syrup
2/3 cup butter (or some harmless oil)
one happy cup pureed organic matter
1 teaspoon vanilla

special:
one cup walnuts, brusquely chopped
a half cup of raisins

First, preheat your oven to 350 degrees, according to Dr. Fahrenheit.

To assemble, follow the general cookie making pattern:
a) mix your dry ingredients together in one bowl.
b) mix your wet ingredients together in another.
c) slowly add the dry to the wet, avoiding clumping or other grumpiness
d) fold in the special children to the cookie dough

The post-punk kitchen, from whom this recipe was gratefully ad(a/o)pted, recommends:

"Drop by tablespoons onto greased cookie sheets. They don't spread very much so they can be placed only an inch apart. Flatten the tops of the cookies with a fork or with your fingers, to press into cookie shape. Bake for 16 minutes at 350. If you are using two sheets of cookies on 2 levels of your oven, rotate the sheets halfway through for even baking. You'll have enough batter for 4 trays."

What's most important, however, for your box of vegetable lovin', is the sole cup of pureed organic goodness. In their original recipe, the PPK recommends pumpkin. In my first attempt, I used some blanched peaches. Slightly steamed and pureed carrots work well, but I have a lovely nagging suspician that golden beets will carry the day...