Here’s a preview of the new tasting room at the cider house Wandering Aengus is opening early next month as well as some pics of sexy cider apples. Would that I could be a cider apple pressed and fermented with some of my friends.

Kevin Zielinski walks his orchard at E.Z. Orchards. He’s growing a number of heirloom cider apple varieties, including Muscadet de Dieppe, Domaine, St. Martin, Champagne Reinette, Douce Moen, Marie Menard, Muscadet de Lense, Muscadet de Bernay, Marin Oufroy, Roxbury Russet and Yarlington Mill.

The cider making book I was reading was written by Annie Proulx of all people. I couldn’t quit it.

I love these cider apples, blushing and soft on the outside, bitter and caustic to the tongue!

I had this great idea for a blog post when I signed up for the Minto Island Growers CSA last winter. I was going to take a picture of my bin of produce every week to capture a visual representation of the bounty of the seasons. Look, I would write, how the broccoli trickles in, how the fava beans gather for a party in July, how the tomatoes show up later and take all the glory.  It was going to be great!

And then summer finally came and I abandoned this project and threw myself into some new ones instead, namely, trying to find a way to process all of the vegetables that come in with my CSA.

If you haven’t belonged to a CSA, it works like this: You send in what feels like an exorbitant amount of money (in this case, $500), to the lovely people of a farm in your area (here, Elizabeth Miller and Chris Jenkins), and then wait through a terrible, terrible spring for your boxes to arrive. Finally, at the beginning of June, you go pick up your first box.  I opened that first box to find lacinato kale, fresh tea, green garlic and black turtle black beans. A few hours later, Elizabeth sends an email relating news of the farm, information about what is in our box, and recipes based on the produce we received. It’s kind of like having someone tell you what you opened for Christmas a couple hours earlier. Now what do I do with all of this stuff?

I have always had serious doubts that CSAs were for me. I have a produce problem. Living in Europe for a few years, and growing up in a house where mom went to the grocery store every day, has made me into one of those people who can generally only have a few items in the fridge at a time. Otherwise, my refrigerator becomes a swamp of moldy green beans and mesclun sludge.  I’m very ashamed about it, actually. I know I’m not alone here — I often read reports that Americans throw their weight in food away every year — but it’s something I have to seriously work at to keep from happening.

So a CSA sounds kind of nightmarish, doesn’t it? Random produce arriving at the peak of its freshness, in season and ready to be seasoned? Unplanned? Never knowing what’s coming next other than a vague idea of what is coming in season? As with many new personal challenges, I vowed to do this one the correct way and NOT WASTE A SINGLE KOHLRABI.

Since that first self-recrimination we have seen a lot of great stuff come in through the CSA. We had a month of blueberries delivered fresh, bunches of radishes, delicate greens of all stripe, squash, tomatoes, blackberries, bok choi, broccoli, rhubarb, fava beans and greens, garlic, strawberries, cabbage, cauliflower, spinach, green beans, sweet onions, and more. We even got a couple of those kohlrabi I had worried about.

Has it been too much? No, I would say it hasn’t been enough! A strange transformation has happened in this house. Always having produce in the house means always eating produce. Surprise! If it is local and fresh, it is probably also delicious. We’re lookin’ pretty fine from all those vegetables. I’m pretty sure we’ve aged a year and a half in reverse from all the antioxidants.

There have been some surprises. It turns out, processing even these smaller amounts of produce unleashes in me new waves of nostalgia for my grandparents’ home, where someone was always out on the porch snapping beans. I have been thinking all the time about my grandfather, how he would just slice up a kohlrabi and eat it like an apple.

Yes, the kohlrabi again.

I’ve found ways to incorporate a lot of this produce by exploring new recipes. One of my favorites for the summer was Thomas Keller’s summer vegetable gratinee of eggplant, tomatoes, squash and zucchini. I can’t reprint it here, but it basically involves treating vegetables as if they were precious gems. Dude has killer technique.

But that kohlrabi, it pretty much slew me. When I got it, I ran my hand over its smooth surface and laid it down gently in a produce basket on my kitchen counter. Then I looked at every day, reminiscing about the past. And then I forgot about it. From time to time I would see it again, and get all weepy inside.

Friends, that kohlrabi is there even still. I just checked on it, and it has become something of a shrunken head of a kohlrabi.

My husband would be quick to remind me that this happened once before, when I was living in a student housing complex north of Munich, Germany. I bought some kohlrabi at a grocery store downtown and didn’t use it, not for lack of imagination, but out of a deep longing for home. Is that ridiculous? Beautifully so. When he discovered what I had done — or in this case, not done — he plucked that kohlrabi up and planted it down in the weeds near the building’s entrance. At least there we could visit it. The thing actually grew and was still growing when I left a few months later.

The CSA is still going strong, as you can see from the picture above. Even though the Willamette Valley had a tough spring, and the boxes’ contents are directly affected by the whims of the weather, I would definitely do this again. I’ll probably try not to make any grand statements to myself about using all of it next time around, though. I’ll just do my best and love all of the surprises and let myself weep at the kohlrabi on the counter.

Food carts/trucks in the Statesman Journal today! And since there isn’t yet an online site featuring all of the Salem food cart locations, I’m posting them here. These are mostly the ones featured in the column, but there are many more to be added.

If you are interested in rolling into town with a food truck or are just curious about the rigamarole required to operate one here in Salem, you can visit the City of Salem Revised Code. You will find the requirements for food carts under #31 (police protective licenses) , 31.1020 is for street vendors, such as James the Waffle Guy, and 31.1075 is for Mobile Food Units (trucks).

El Pollo Feliz/Mariscos Playa Azul

3828 Silverton Rd.
Salem, OR 97305
(503) 391-9896
Food: Mexican

Minto Island Growers Food Cart

3394 Brown Island Rd.
Just off River Rd. S. – Follow the signs
Wednesday- Saturday 11:00-6:00
Cash or Local Check Only
Food: Sandwiches, salads, soups, smoothies made with the farm’s produce

KarnaVor BBQ
(503) 856-6463
Tuesday-Saturday
Roaming, follow @karnavorbbq or call
Food: Barbecue

Smokin’ Swine bbq

3905 Silverton Road Next to Kilroy’s Storage
Food: Carolina Style BBQ
(503) 689-4242

Downtown Waffles

@downtownwaffles Salem, OR
Corner of Chemeketa and Liberty Streets downtown
Food: Waffles

Tony’s Churros food cart
Usually in the parking lot of the El Grullense taqueria near Lana Ave

Oregon Crepe Company
Salem Wednesday Farmer’s Market and Salem Saturday MarketOff Holidays, Sun & Mon
1199 South Water Street
Silverton, OR 97381
(503) 991-3852

I realize there is a certain naivete  in thinking you might want to own some goats, or, for that matter, any kind of livestock.

Certainly, in writing a story in which I announce my dream of owning a goat, I am setting myself up for major criticism by more realistic people who know implicitly that things like goat farming are not for them.

But this has to be one of the things I love most about Oregon. People out here just do their thing, without worrying too much about how it might appear.

Take the Thompsons, of Classical Goats, the family that decided to host me for a goat stay a few weeks ago.  They are massively interested in all kinds of off-the-radar things.

Case in point: I had been at the Thompson’s for about ten minutes before Bill Thompson taught me how to play the ukelele.

It was “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” — thanks for asking!

Salem might not follow the footsteps of Seattle and Portland and, soon, Eugene, in adopting an urban goat policy (and I have to say, that’s probably a good thing), but I love that I live so close to someone making their own chevre, ricotta, cheddar and mozzarella from goat’s milk.

Now I just have to figure out what I can produce in my own cottage industry to be in a good position for a trade.

Do pixelated words count?

I don’t know about you, but I’d much rather stuff my face on stuffed grape leaves for a good cause than simply send in a check.

I’ve been to Marc’s before and love his approach to fresh, healthy, Mediterranean food. If I had a Kardashian budget I might even just hire him to do all of my cooking.

Spicy peanut soup for everyone!

But I’ll settle for the odd chance to eat and his funky home in NE Salem.

Here is the official announcement:

KMUZ 88.5 is Salem’s budding Community Radio Station. Just a few dollars separates Salem from having it’s own forum for local music and public affairs run and owned by the community. You will be treated to an amazing authentic Mediterranean Dinner by Lebanese Chef Marc Nassar, including Lebanese Rolled Grape Leaves, lamb riblets, Spanikopita, Hummus, Lentil/yam soup, Arabic salad with vinaigrette and feta, and of course marc’s famous BAKLAVA. You will entertained by Sherry Calahan, one of Salem’s finest professional belly dancers, and updated about the State of the Station by KMUZ board member Melanie Zermer. Things are happening, and we are SO CLOSE! Come help make it happen, and have an amazingly wonderful time doing so!

Please spread the word to anyone who you think has an interest in Community Radio in Salem.

DETAILS DETAILS DETAILS!

Who: All persons interested in the creation and success of KMUZ 88.50 Community Radio

What: KMUZ 88.50 Benefit Dinner with Belly Dancing by Sherry Calahan and Station updates by Melanie Zermer

When:  February 12, 2010 – 6:30pm

Where: Marc’s Place at 468 21^st NE Salem OR between State and Center.

WHY: Because we believe that independent community media best serves the community in Music, Art, and Public Affairs

COST: $50.00/plate – Reservations Required, RSVP

Information and Reservations: Contact myself Melanie Zermer melbelle57@gmail.com

Lots of shout-outs in the Oregonian today by my friend Rachel Bucci, who penned a travel story about Salem for the Oregonian. It’s kind of a get-off-the-highway-you-lazy-travelers take on the things to do in the area for travelers.

Venti’s, Bubble Rooms, Little Cannoli Bakery, they’re all there.

Perhaps not surprisingly for a story appearing in our neighbor to the north, the comments are a tad uglier than the story, pointing out the lack of public transportation on weekends and holidays and suggesting that what you will really encounter in the state capital is illegal immigrants.

I’m glad Rachel alerted the big O’s reader’s to La Capitale, but Portlanders are certainly hearing a lot about it these days. Just last fall, Willamette Week did a road trip featuring La Cap that praised the restaurant for being the  “the closest you’ll come to a Portland-style restaurant or French bistro in the state capital.”

Um… since when is anything exceptional “Portland-style?”

I’m going to start calling everything good I find in the state “Salem-style” and see where it gets me.

We had nine people show up without costumes for trick-or-treating last night. Some of them were morose teenagers, but two were adults and three were the kind of children you want to see on your doorstep for this holiday.

We live in the kind of neighborhood where you can’t really hide from the effects of the recession. We’re not in the thick of it — I like to think of the microhood as this little island amid much mess — but we’re close enough to Lancaster Drive and some multi-unit housing that we can’t really turn our backs on people who have less than we do.

And then comes Halloween, a time that I’ve always looked forward to as a way to meet some neighbors who, perhaps, aren’t so in-your-face friendly. At Halloween, the shared joy of child-raising, I imagined, could create enough commonality that we could learn names, faces, enough to maybe raise a hand or nod a head next time around.

But this year took a sad turn. We had 62 people show up at our door — an exciting turnout — and a fifth of them didn’t have costumes on.

Perhaps you might say these are those too-cool-for-school teenage segment, but when I asked some of the kids where there costumes were (as is my right as a candy-bearing home-dweller) I was met with:

“We’re too poor to buy costumes.”

First of all, that’s a bunch of bunk. My neighbor (who isn’t poor) put together an awesome costume with little more than some electrical tape.

But some of the people on my door really did look pretty hard up, and they weren’t costumed as poor people. They were in street clothes. At one point, I thought of handing out canned goods instead of Skittles.

Next year, I might switch out the Twix for some food bars or dried fruit. Not in place of candy, but in addition to it.

The Demons of D Street 2010:

1 cheerleader
6 fairies
2 Transformers
1 Mike Meyers
4 Ornery unclad teenagers
1 Spidergirl
1 Spiderman
1 scary jester
3 princesses
1 jailor
1 convict (that I know of)
1 gorilla in a wheelchair
2 anonymous, hard-off adults who needed food
1 adult Gandalf
1 Munch’s Scream
1 sorcerer
1 vampire
1demoness
1 80s dancer
1 80s skeleton
1 warlock
1 bag of candy
1 zombie
1 disaffected teenage father who claimed his little girl’s “candy had been stolen” and he had to trick-or-treat for more
3 boys with no costumes
1 cow
2 brides
1 “not a morning person”
2 bees
2 witches
1 Harijuku girl (actual Japanese exchange student; who excitedly informed us: “You’re my first house on my first Halloween!”
1 cat
1 hobo
1 naughty nurse
1 grim reaper
1 “Skullsor,” whatever that is
1 Hannah Montana (whom my husband welcome by saying: “And you’re a witch?”)
1 sexy zebra (um… I know)
3 “Jerkers” (uncostumed teenagers)
4 uncostumed tweens

If you’ve got too much candy, don’t forget you can exchange it for real, delicious food at these Candy Exchanges today.

]]> http://desperatelyseekingsalem.com/2010/11/01/look-who-showed-up-at-my-house-for-halloween/feed/ 6 http://desperatelyseekingsalem.com/2010/10/28/the-new-mom-gets-mommed/ http://desperatelyseekingsalem.com/2010/10/28/the-new-mom-gets-mommed/#comments Thu, 28 Oct 2010 17:03:20 +0000 Emily Grosvenor http://desperatelyseekingsalem.com/?p=2022

I have spent the past few days doing  everything and nothing at all with my mom, who is visiting us from the East Coast.

Mom has made three trips to Salem since we had the Goober-Doo last December, and this time, she took three flights to get here.

Three flights!

Her luggage, strangely, took only two flights and arrived about five hours earlier than she did.

Lucky Luggage.

It was waiting there in the Horizon Air baggage terminal, stamping its little wheel and saying: What took you so long.

She arrived to find some oddities in my house — for one, I had scrubbed the kitchen floor  ceremoniously for her arrival. But I also made her some moussaka and some mummy cupcakes (above), though admittedly, these items don’t go together in any coherent way.

It has been a luxurious few days for me.  I have spent the past few days going out with friends who haven’t really seen me socially for months, shopping for clothes, eating slowly and mindfully, sleeping in just a bit, and sharing the quiet and lovely moments of life at home with a 10-month-old baby.

In short, this mama has been getting mommed.

What was I thinking to move so far away from my family? Was I wrong to think that the life that you create for yourself, hand-picked and curated to fit with your values and lifestyle habits and work choices was a bit misguided? Is it wrong to move across the country because you have a fascination with mushroom hunting and you have always wanted to live between the forest and the ocean?  (Yes). What’s the point if you’re stuck at home with a baby all day anyway and your own mama is miles away enjoying the high life as a retiree? Do you launch a winning hearts and minds campaign to entice her to move closer? (Also, yes).

We’ve got a great itinerary for this week, one that is delightfully freewheeling and mundane. Lots of shopping, cooking, talking. I had more fun yesterday than I have had in months, and all we did was got to Kelly’s and test out those Nespresso coffee machines.

Today, we went through the baby’s wardrobe, which has ballooned to become more varied and interesting than mine (thanks to my mom).

We might go to the Kroc Center for a swim, we might go to Woodburn, we might visit Mt. Angel, we might head to A.C. Gilbert, we might just stay home. Whatever we do, it is mighty wonderful to have the option of doing it together.

Go hug your mummies.

It seems wildly popular these days to hone in on particular ingredients and shun them from the household.

“Oh, we don’t eat meat” may have been where it started, but the attitude has quickly progressed to:

“Gluten is the devil.”

“Corn syrup kills.”

“Soy dare not cross this threshold.”

We have no such rules at this house, so I wasn’t entirely blown away when an adorable young Czech student from Willamette, Jan Taborsky, offered to drop off a loaf of gluten-free bread he was developing with his American sweetheart.

A little about Jan, and only because he’s so cute. He first visited Salem as a highs-chooler and fell in love with this place. IN LOVE! So much so that he decided to come back to the States and get his MBA at Willamette.

Well, they must be teaching those kids something in our dear Willamette Bubble, since Jan has been politely courting this website for a few weeks now, dropping off gluten-free bread for me to try.

He hasn’t exactly asked for a review, just for feedback on the bread, which has no nuts, no soy, no cane sugar, and remarkably, no gluten.

Jan and his lucky lady Lacy have been making the bread into the wee hours of the morning — testing it, tasting it, sending it around, sometimes selling it to gluten-free nuts at the Salem Saturday Market. It’s one of those striking entrepreneurial love stories you love to read about. They fell in love over celiac disease, clinging to each other and banning gluten from their lives.

Well, maybe not. But they do both have celiac disease, and from this limitation was born their business idea, which Jan is pursuing as part of his MBA Business Ventures class.

You gotta give them credit for doing what I’ve been suggesting to people every day — reach out to those bloggers!

But how is the bread?

Well, the first one Jan showed up with was thick as a brick. And just as heavy. It had the consistency of mealy cornbread.

“You have to toast it to make it good,” someone told me later that week about gluten-free bread.

I like toast as much as the next girl, but what’s the point of calling it bread then?

The next one was a little better, but I got it fresh from the market. It lasted a few days before it began to get moldy and I chucked it in the garbage.

Then I got a knock on my door earlier this week. It was the adorable Jan, carrying bread. (I don’t know about you, but I expect all of my Europeans to have a loaf slung over their shoulders).

It was but a third of a loaf, still warm.

It was so delicious that I ate the whole thing myself, alternating Nutella, butter, jam, almond butter, peanut butter and Tilamook cheddar for the rest of the afternoon. (In case you haven’t noticed, this is also a Goldilocks story).

Didn’t anyone ever say that gluten-free bread isn’t healthy if you eat all of it in one sitting?

Jan and Lucy are selling this latest, best incarnation of their bread at the Salem Saturday Market, and as of November 6, it will be on sale at Life Source.

A toast to them.

I’ve been told there are a few seats left at the invite-only, Salem underground dinner and house series offered by Marc Nassar, one of the city’s longtime residents (and fellow Northeast Salemite).

This year’s show features Beth Wood, a Texas transplant to Eugene known for her soulful ballads, gritty southern charm and sultry stylings.

Dinner by Marc Nassar and Concert

ONLY $20.00 DINNER AND SHOW

$12.00 SHOW ONLY, ADVANCE TICKETS ADVISED

Here’s a little bit about her music and songwriting:

“…Wood has made magic on her latest disc, Marigolds, a collection of catchy and observant tunes …. Her sweet, cheerful voice blossoms around feel-good melodies that star a menagerie of characters – old beggars, best friends, sweatshop workers, exes, newborn babies – people who will capture your imagination.  But the most enchanting figure is the storyteller herself, whose engaging performance and emotionally riveting songs resonate with the vivacity of living life to its fullest – and most beautiful – potential.” -  Knoxville Metro Pulse

“…From its evocative lyricism to its vivid storytelling and master craftsmanship, “Marigolds is not so much simply a music recording — it’s a heartfelt, visceral experience. Wood has always had a gift for words and music. This latest effort is a rich glimpse at the stories, travels and personal growth of one of Asheville’s favorite Texans… – Laura Blackley of Take 5 online, Ashville Citizens Times.

“…There is a directness to Beth Wood’s voice that makes you lean a little closer to the speakers… In “Hurricane Caroline” you don’t know if she’s talking about a woman who’s big trouble or a real natural disaster.  Either way, Caroline leaves a “hush and a bucket of rain” after she leaves…. A vivid portrait of three generations of women appears in “Someday Somebody Will.” … and it doesn’t hurt that her writing is stellar here as it is on every song.” – Sing Out! Magazine.

Being one of those underground events, if you want an invite, you’ll have to contact Mr. Nassar directly for more information by visiting the Salem House Concert website or by emailing him at blueman [at] teleport.com.