Sometimes things do not go as planned.

Recap: I was dreaming of a kitchen counter covered in these

So we got some chicks

Then that cute fluffy yellow one died. 

Panic!  Terror!

Okay, fine, we moved on. Then we got this one, you voted and her name became Ingrid.  And life was good.

Our backyard had become one of my favorite places.  We would sit outside, watch the chickens and admire our partially done fence.  We even got a pool!

That is not us, and those are not our kids

Kyle and I were in the pool enjoying ourselves when we heard it.  I had heard it earlier in the day, and was worried but brushed it off.  When we heard it again, I did some quick internet research.  Jackie, who was supposed to look like this:

(this is a hen, FYI)

instead looked like this:

(and, of course, this is a rooster, also FYI)

Shiiiit.

From that day forth, the glamourous Jackie O was now referred to as Jack Kennedy.  To keep our neighbors happy, the next day he flew the coop to a nice couple in Brooklyn Park who told me they would be using him for breeding. (Fingers crossed for you Jack!)

And then there were two.

To be continued...

You may remember my post from around this time last year when I wrote about the fabulous experience I had with Kyle and my parents at the Minnesota version of Outstanding in the field.  We were fortunate enough to experience the dinner once again, for what I can only hope is a newly formed tradition with Kyle and my parents. 

This year, similar to last, my parents, husband and I packed into a four seater Toyota and travelled west into what I consider uncharted Minnesota territory.  This time we were farther south, and stayed on a highway I was relatively familiar with, until we passed all the expensive Excelsior houses and spun around in a rural round-about.  "How civilized" my mother commented.  I was gathering excitement for our upcoming meal; wondering who I might know, how things would be different from the year before, and of course, what we would be eating.  As we slowed to approach the would be dinner site (Star Thrower Farms) , I jumped out of the car to grab some pictures and cleverly ran into my lovely friend Kathy, who just so happened to be the woman who earlier this year introduced me to the wonderful world of foraging.  Having not seen each other for months, we gabbed about how good it was to see the other again, until I realized I had all but abandoned my dinner guests to chat.  I trudged along to meet up with the rest of the crowd and get my hands on some of the first treats of the evening. 

First up, charcuterie compliements of celebri-chef Mike Phillips.  His work at the Craftsman has been well regarded in the Twin Cities, but is about to partake in an new adventure called Green Ox, creating salumi for the masses (!!!!).

This year's event was notably hot and humid, compared to last years breezy, overcast and ultimately electrified experience.  We stood around and chatted sipping on our aperitifs of Minnesota made vodka and refreshing prosecco. Jim Denevan (founder and ah-mazing artist chatted with us a bit, giving us a breakdown of how it all began.  Soon there after we were introduced to farmers Deborah and Scott Pikovsky and took off to enjoy a tour of the farm.

The tour involved meeting some of their Icelandic sheep, their many rams, the milking room (including a not-to-be-messed-with guard llama) and my favorite: an amazingly well preserved old barn with gorgeous interior architecture.  Finally, we headed down the hill towards the massive linened table set for 150.  Jealous yet?

The guest chef this year was again Scott Pampuch, owner and chef of The Corner Table and the man behind the locally based Tour De Farm.  His experience cooking with local food is quite extensive and it showed clearly throughout every course.  Up first was a salad of grilled sausage and peaches, mizuna and kohlrabi purée with a sprinkling of lamb pancetta served with a Rush River Double Alt beer.  The peaches were sweet, the lamb sausage earthy, the mizuna added a slight spice, the kohlrabi purée was smooth and creamy as silk, pancetta crunchy and salty and the beer bitter.  Not a bad way to start off an amazing meal. 

Up next was a lamb tamale made with Kathy's foraged black trumpet mushrooms and Riverbend farms cornmeal, dressed wtih greens, pickles and oh-so-hot hungarian wax peppers.  Amazing.  Gorgeous.  SPICY!

Phillips and Pampuch sprinkle sheep queso fresco on a lamb tamale salad.

The sun seemed to be lowering itself in the sky at an alarmingly slow pace, but fortunately two of the dishes were paired with rosé, my all time favorite way to beat the heat.  Well.  That and sitting in my newly purchased backyard swimming pool.  But that's a story for another time.  We followed up the tamales with a simple dish of grilled lamb, potatoes, baby carrot and onion. When well executed, the easiest dishes can beat the most extravagant any day of the week.  

Nothing better to beat the head than a cool, tart palatte cleanser.  This consisted of goat yogurt paired with ground cherries served on what were at one time the floor boards lining Chef Pampuch's attic.  Absolutely stunning.

The palatte cleanser came in quite handy as the next course consisted of a rich and flavorful lamb loin, heart, kidneys (blech!) and tongue.  I'm the first girl to step up to the organ meat plate, but the kidneys were way too much for me.  I'll take liver any day of the week though and I wonder who got to eat the lamb sweatbreads? Hmmmm.....

At this point it was time for a break and some good digestion.  Mom and I hit the Biffy's (seriously the nicest port-o-john I have EVER been in.  It flushed!  And had a pump for water!  Very ooh-la-la in the land of portable toilets) and I became infatuated with OITF's vintage bus. 

We rounded out the evening with some lovely desserts.  We started with the best dessert of all: cheese, berries and honey.  But soon enough the sun passed beyond the trees and the cheese had been consumed. A quick round of sweet corn ice cream followed, which we enjoyed as the bugs began their twilight assault and quickly devoured our legs. It was time to go.

Thanks to everyone who made that lovely Saturday night possible: The lamb, the farmers, the land, the chefs, the line cooks, the dishwashers, the foragers, the diners, the crop mobs, the organizers and everyone in between.  It couldn't have happened without you. 

Normally I'd post this over at www.kngsommers.com but I think you'll find the relevance here. 

Martha and Tom are a pair of Twin Cities food bloggers (I definitely recommend their blog, appropriately named "Martha and Tom") that suggested an engagement session at the farmers market.  There are many more to come, but I needed to get a few edited so they could announce their engagement to the internet.

Today started off just fine.  I woke up at a relatively normal time, felt good and was ready to start the day.  Until I realized I couldn't eat breakfast.  I am a major breakfast eater, and turn into a she-devil if you keep it away from me.  It's not so much that I'm hungry in the morning, necessarily, but come 10 or 11am, if I haven't eaten it becomes very noticeable to just about everyone this side of the Mississippi.  I had my annual exam at 11:10, and because I'm interested in seeing how much cholesterol lowering medication I'm going to need go to on (and prepare to send the bill to my enablers. You know who you are) I made the wonderful decision to skip breakfast and let the medical tech poke me with a needle. 

Someone pointed out to me that fasting is the reason to schedule your appointments very early in the morning.  Well that's all fine and dandy, but also the reason I had this appointment to begin with: my last appointment was at 8:45 and due to a bit of sleeping in, traffic on 35, and a tight schedule, I arrived at 9:05 and was told that was too little, too late.  Hence, the reschedule (over a month later might I add). 

The blood withdrawl went as planned, I was poked and prodded and looked at, and was sent on my merry way.  This is when things became problematic. I'm going to go as far as to say my brain doesn't work at all if I don't eat breakfast.  I was in Edina and couldn't for the life of me figure out where I was going to go eat.  So I just got in my car and drove, ending up at Costco in The West End of St Louis Park, and tried every sample they had to offer, hoping it would sate me enough to make a fricken decision.  On my way out I saw a Panera bread sign and thought to mysef "FINE!" 

Sometimes being a stubborn ass isn't worth giving up decently okay foodstuffs.  At least it would be consistent.

As I walked up to the door all I could focus on was the poster depicting what looked to be a Caprese salad and then there, on the menu it was listed "Tomato, Mozzerella and Basil Salad"... aka, suburban caprese.  Fabulous.  I ordered that along with a Black Bean soup and took my seat at the counter waiting for my buzzer to buzz.  As I approached the counter I knew something was wrong.  That was a big bowl of lettuce, topped with mealy tomatoes and THREE fucking balls of fresh mozzerella.  I'm fairly confident there was actually more fat free Italian salad dressing on that salad than there was mozzerella.  And of course, croutons.

WHY DO PEOPLE MESS WITH PERFECTION?  CHEESE, TOMATOES, BASIL!  IT'S SO FUCKING EASY!!!!!!! And the black bean soup?  Of course.  OF COURSE they put a 1/2 cup of cumin in their Black Bean soup and lunch was rendered inedible. Fortunately for me they gave me a half pound chunk of multigrain bread which I slathered with three teenie tiny packs of butter so that I could get the energy to walk out of that place, leaving piles of terrible food just sitting on the counter. 

Needless to say, I haven't really recovered from my lunch experience.  I'm still hungry, but have no motivation to eat, or perhaps fear that anything I do eat will be as utterly disappointing as that ridiculous lunch.

Now, I know what you're thinking:  "What a fucking snob, eat your shitty salad dressing like a big girl and shut up already."  I would like to point out that I truely enjoy about 10,000 things that don't make me a goddamn snob.  So I'm putting together a list to keep me in your good graces after I just chewed out Panera.

1) MSG.  I love the stuff.  It's like crack to me.  Give me a bag of Cool Ranch Dorito chips and that bag WILL be gone, regardless of size.  This actually probably encapsulates a lot of trashy items I like, but Doritos and Earl's really take the cake here.

2) McDonald's

Though I dont' actually eat there, I would eat the hell out of a Filet'o'Fish any day of the week.  And McDonald's breakfast?  Don't even get me started.  Fat? Sodium? Cholesterol?  Bring it on.

3) Shake'n'bake

Pork chops, specifically.

4) Ranch dressing

On anything.  Including Pizza

5) Tostidos Salsa con Queso

This is almost as bad as Ranch.  Eggs, chips, burritos, straight out of the jar...

6) Lalli's Pizza in Milwaukee, WI

I haven't had this in years, but I still dream about it

7) Pickles wrapped in cream cheese and ham

8) Mini corn dogs

9) Strawberry Quik

10) BBQ meatballs

There, okay? I like disgustingly tasty things.  Now somebody get me some wine.

Yep, another blog post.  Hold onto yer hats!  This one is even all original content; GASP!

I haven't yet blogged about our csa, or how amazing it is... but I promise you I will, and that it is indeed amazing.  We went with Riverbend Farms this year and they are simply wonderful, if not simply for the unique things we've gotten so far: corn meal AND turtle beans from last year's harvest (!!!)  I really meant to keep some of the turtle beans for us to plant our own beans next year... but then I forgot to save a few and they all got soaked along with the edibles.  Oh well.  This meal was incredible, not just because I used an entire tub of mascarpone cheese in the polenta, or because I cooked the beans in my favorite Italian fashion, but because aside from the salt, mascarpone cheese and oil, every ingredient came from within 80 miles of our house.  Locavore-ism at its very best (and most delicious).

I made the beans in the same fashion Kyle and I learned five years ago (has it really been that long?) while living in the hills of Italy:

Rince your beans well, and pick through them to sort out broken beans and pesky stones.  Soak your beans in cool water with about an inch of water covering them (add more water as the beans will absorb some).  Cook them in their soaking water with a few cloves of garlic, add salt and stir every once in a while until the beans are the right consistency for you.  I like them just past al dente so they still have a tiny bite to them. When they're done, drizze really good olive oil and serve with crusty bread  Holy cow it's sinful, not to mention incredibly healthy.  You can use them at every meal (they were quite lovely with CSA eggs fried and their yolks oozing onto the beans) and they keep in the fridge until they mold or smell funny, but I can pretty much guarantee they won't be around long enough for you to get to that point, so just keep using them until they're gone. 

This polenta was absolutely fluffy, perfect, sinful and divine.  I was literally in love.  If you can get your hands on homegrown corn meal, do it now and do it fast.  Little chunks of whole squeaky corn REALLY brought the dish together.  For one cup of corn meal, I used 4 1/2 cups of 1% milk with a 1/2 cup of half and half (this is what we call improvising when you don't have whole or 2% milk on hand). 

Ingredients:

1C cornmeal

4 cups whole or 2% milk

1 tub mascarpone cheese (12oz ?)

Salt to taste

Two cloves of Garlic (or five garlic scapes) minced

Bring the milk and garlic to a simmer and slowly add the cornmeal over medium heat, whisking constantly until well incorporated.  Stir once every 5 minutes until it reaches the consistencey of apple sauce, about 30 minutes.  Serve immediately.