Return to Smokey Mt.

 fig. a:  the invite

It was that time of year again.  Time to head down the 87 to the Catskills.  Time to fire up the smoker. Time to feed a whole mess of nice people from the City, from the Catskills, and beyond, on a gloriously beautiful midsummer's eve with some true Southern hospitality.

 fig. b:  the bill

Thing is, up until the last minute, for the first time in five years, we weren't sure if we were going to be able to make it--which is why we didn't make the bill.

But by Friday afternoon, by the grace of God (and with a little help from an extra-special friend--TY!) we'd arrived at the Stone House, checked in, and gone for a dip in a nearby swimming hole.  And by evening that Smokey Mountain smoker was all fired up, sending sweet hickory smoke wafting in the air, and slowly, magically turning almost 40 pounds of Fleisher's pork shoulders into hog heaven.

 fig. c:  getting up to temp

By noon the next day those shoulders had been pulled, chopped, and dressed into a towering heap of luscious North Carolina-style smoky chopped pork, and we were busily putting together our sides.

By 3:00 p.m. the guests had started to arrive in full force.  And by 6:00 p.m. dinner was served.

The spread:

3x 12-lb Fleisher's pork shoulders, hickory smoked and chopped 

Martin's potato rolls 

Tidewater coleslaw 

AJ's Down East baked beans 

Smokehouse potato salad 

AJ's Holy Grub BBQ sauce 

AEB Totally Jacked-Up BBQ sauce 

Blackcurrant lemonade 

Michelle's rhubarb & white chocolate petit fours

By about 7:15 the pork had been entirely cleaned out.  People made themselves four or five heaping sandwiches.  It was like a well-mannered, totally relaxed feeding frenzy.

By 9:00 p.m., as Color War took the outdoor stage, hickory smoke wasn't the only smoke in the air.

 fig. d:  up in smoke

And by 10:00, after Color War's set had ended in ecstatic dancing and thunderous applause, there was a whole mess of other smoke shooting into a clear, star- and firefly-filled Catskills night.

 fig. e:  c'mon, baby, light my pyre

I'm not sure if it was all that smoke, or what, but I started to have all kinds of strange and interesting visions.  Like this guy.

 fig. f:  double fantasy

Saw him in a vision not long after the Theme from Twin Peaks played announcing the arrival of Color War onstage.  Had the even stranger experience of seeing him mounted to the wall of a log cabin the very next day.

Didn't get an invite?  Like to try some of my "luscious North Carolina-style smoky chopped pork"?  Well, if the Good Lord's willing and the creek don't rise, you'll get your chance tomorrow.  I'll be selling chopped pork sandwiches at Place de la Paix, right next to the Société des Arts Technologiques and the Foodlab, tomorrow, July 17, from 7:00 p.m. till 9:00 p.m.  What's the occasion?  It's a Pop Montreal/Film Pop presentation of Computer Chess on the outdoor screen.  It's also part of a Film, DJ's, and Chefs series that's going on all summer again this year.

Hope to see you there!

In smoke we trust.

aj

p.s. Many thanks to Patricia for making all of this possible, and to Flannery for invaluable assistance in the kitchen.

Hudson River School, rev. ed.

fig. a: self-portrait w/ xmas ornaments

The holidays found us back in the Catskills, taking pictures of ourselves reflected in Christmas ornaments,

fig. b: barn, Cornwallville, NY

exploring big, old barns,

fig. c: view of the Hudson River Valley

and studying the landscape. This view is from Olana,

fig. d: Olana

the outlandish Orientalist fantasy home built by the Hudson River School's Frederic Edwin Church on a site that affords spectacular views of the Hudson River, the Catskills, and the Taconic hills, a site Church called "the center of the world."

fig. e: gnarly!

Church fetish for all things Persian may have been somewhat incongruous, but Michelle approved of Olana's views and its sense of whimsy (including its heart-shaped pond), and she was especially fond of Church's taste in outdoor furnishings.

Hudson

fig. f: Hudson Gothic

The town of Hudson is a handsome Hudson River Valley town with a handsome Amtrak station that also happens to be one of the town's most important landmarks. Not only is Hudson's train station a stately, subdued example of American Gothic, not only is it the oldest continuously operational train station in the entire state of New York, but it happens to be across the street from one of New York's very best cafés.

fig. g: inside Strongtree

That's right, directly across the street you'll find the good people at Strongtree Organic Coffee Roasters, purveyors of the "finest quality organic heirloom coffees." In many ways, 2009 was the Year of Coffee for us, the year that we had 4 or 5 of the most momentous coffee experiences of our entire lives. Strongtree was the final coffee discovery of the year (TY, S & T!), but it vaulted right into our Top 3. We loved this place from the moment we set foot in the joint. The fact that they were playing the dubbed -out sounds of This is Reggae Music, vol. 3, an album that, by all reasonable measures (longest history, most listens, etc.), is my #1 reggae album of all time, certainly didn't hurt.

fig. h: Santa's little helpers

The display of loopy holiday art didn't hurt either. But what really caught our attention was that first cappuccino. This was not your average espresso shot. It left a tremendously memorable impression. So memorable, in fact, that two days later we remembered to make a special detour back to Strongtree to pick up some beans and have an even more impressive espresso shot. This time time made with their Conquering Lion blend (irie!), this time served up as a latte. But what sealed the deal was when we got back home and brewed up our first batch of their Ethiopian Lekempti Viennese Roast. "Strong dark fruit and deep chocolate flavor," indeed. Again, easily one of our Top 3 coffees of the year.

fig. i: inside Hudson Wine Merchants

Hudson is also blessed with an awfully impressive wine shop: Hudson Wine Merchants. Not only do the folks at HWM share our passion for landscape, but they stock a great selection of Italian wines, including an awfully tasty Campo di Sasso Insoglio del Cinghiale 2006.

fig. j: Hudson diner

And, if you're interested, Hudson also has a beautifully streamlined vintage diner, which is currently FOR SALE. Takers?

Kingston

fig. k: inside Fleisher's

If Strongtree was one of the highlights of our trip, the other major highlight was found not in Hudson, but about an hour south along the NY Thruway in Kingston. Fleisher's Grass-Fed & Organic Meats is a new school butcher shop run by Joshua & Jessica Applestone that has very deservedly received an enormous amount of attention in the five years since they opened. Fleisher's is the epitome of principled: not only is all their meat organic, but it's all grass-fed, pasture-fed, and ethically raised. In fact, Joshua & Jessica established a set of tenets when they opened up shop, principles that guide the way they run their operation and the way they do business. They look something like this:

-All farms are multigenerational with a long history of ethical practices.
-Farmers are proponents of proper animal husbandry for all animal reproduction.
-Animals always have access to grass and open pastures and are not kept in pens.
-Animals are rotated through pastures to ensure they have exercise and fresh grass to eat.
-Animals are not given antibiotics or hormones.
-Animals live in closed herds.
-All feed and grains must come from local mills and farms. Store bought grain is never acceptable.
-Animals travel less than an hour to the slaughterhouse.

Where does this commitment to sourcing and carving the very best, most humanely raised meat come from? Well, interestingly, it comes from a shared history of vegetarianism. Joshua & Jessica were both vegetarians when they first met. Hell, Joshua was a vegan. For 17 years (!). Obviously, they left their vegetarian ways behind years ago, but their food ethics remained, and they've made a business out of supporting and promoting a humane and human-scale approach to animal husbandry.

The Fleisher's story is a nice story, too. Not only is it founded on a love story, but there's some real history to it. You might think that the Fleisher's name is just a clever play on the word "butcher," but you'd be wrong. The store is named after Wolf Fleisher, a kosher butcher who came to America in 1901 and set up his own shop--the original Fleisher's--in Brooklyn. The business became a success, known for the high quality of its beef and poultry, as well as the high standards by which it was run. Joshua is Wolf Fleisher's great-grandson, and the Fleisher's tradition lives on.

Now, we'd read about Fleisher's a while back, but it all seemed so faraway and exotic (perhaps because no butcher shop in Montreal is even remotely as progressive) until we happened to meet Joshua & Jessica at Joe Beef on a balmy summer night back in August (TY, AG, TY, JB!). We got to talking and when they graciously invited us to come down and pay them a visit, we pledged to do just that at the soonest opportunity.

It's one thing to hear or read about an all-organic, grass- and pasture-fed meat shop, but it's a whole other thing to see one in operation, especially when it takes the shape of a good, old-fashioned neighborhood butcher shop (albeit one that does a healthy trade with several of New York's finest restaurants, 90 miles down the Hudson), especially when the run-up to Christmas is very much on. This joint was jumping. Fleisher's had a full team in full swing, carving up sides of beef, putting together special orders, tending to customers. Somehow Joshua & Jessica still found the time to give us a tour and chat with us.

fig. l: the haul

When we got back home, we had a box full of Fleisher's organics meats purchases in tow:

6 organic whole chicken legs
2 huge, organic beef short ribs
1 organic bone-in pork shoulder
1 massive, organic, dry-aged rib steak
4 lamb loin chops

As soon as we made our first Fleisher's meal we started to have regrets about not buying more. Four meals later and still batting 1.000 (actually, these meals have been so good, it feels like we're batting over 1.000), we're kicking ourselves (hard!).

Here are the first two:

AEB Chicken & Dumplings

1 tbsp olive oil
1 small organic chicken, cut into parts, or 6 organic whole chicken legs
1 medium onion, finely chopped
2 ribs of celery, finely chopped
2 medium carrots, finely chopped
1/4 cup parsley, minced
4 tbsp flour
1 cup dry white wine
2 cups chicken or vegetable stock
salt & freshly ground pepper

dumplings:
2 cups sifted all-purpose flour
1/4 tsp salt
2 rounded tsp baking powder
1 tsp brown sugar
2 tbsp butter
2/3 cup buttermilk

Heat the oil in a large stove- and ovenproof casserole over medium heat. Salt and pepper your chicken liberally. When the oil begins to smoke, brown your chicken parts or legs, roughly 5 minutes per side. You might need to do this in batches. I did. When the chicken parts have been browned, remove them from the casserole and set them aside. Add the onion to the casserole and sauté until the onion has turned translucent. Add the celery and the carrots and continue sautéing, 2 to 3 minutes. Add the parsley, sauté another minute, then add the flour and sauté for another 1-2 minutes, stirring constantly, until the vegetable have turned a pale golden hue. Add the white wine and the chicken/vegetable stock. Add the browned chicken pieces. Bring to a boil, then turn the heat way down and simmer ever so gently for 45 minutes.

Meanwhile, prepare the dumplings. Sift the flour, salt, baking powder, and sugar into a mixing bowl. Add the butter, blending with your fingertips. Add the buttermilk and mix well. Spoon the dough onto a floured surface and roll it evenly 1/4 inch in diameter. Cut into 1-inch rounds or diamond shapes.

When the chicken has cooked for 45 minutes, taste and adjust the seasonings. Add the dumplings. Cover and cook for another 20 minutes at a gentle simmer. Test the dumplings--they should be light, airy, and fully cooked through. Serve the chicken and dumplings in wide, shallow bowls. Devour.

[the dumplings part of this recipe is based on Edna Lewis' recipe in The Taste of Country Cooking, although her recipe uses 2/3 cup of milk instead of buttermilk]

Chicken & Dumplings is one of my absolute favorite meals, but it was even better with Fleisher's plump, organic, pastured chicken. The rich gravy--always a thing of beauty--was noticeably richer, noticeably more beautiful. The chicken meat was so thoroughly delicious that we found ourselves literally gnawing at the bones, ravenously, trying to make sure we got each and every last morsel.

Equally phenomenal was this lamb chops dish that combined the Fleisher's method for cooking and savoring their grass-fed and pastured meats with elements of a Mario Batali recipe for scottaditi (one that called for the use of New Zealand lamb [!], not Hudson River Valley lamb*). Now, our lamb chops were loin chops, not the neck-end lamb chops (or frenched lamb chops) that one usually uses for scottaditi, but they were equally finger-scorching-good. Fleisher's method was very familiar to us--it's basically the exact same method we use for making our steaks--but Jessica insisted that this was a fool-proof method for preparing virtually all of their meats.*

Lamb Chops with Confited Garlic and Mint

4 lamb loin chops
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
10-12 whole cloves of garlic
1 cup dry wine
1/2 cup sweet wine
salt and freshly ground black pepper
4 sprigs mint, leaves only

Heat the oil in a 10-inch sauté pan over medium heat. Add the garlic cloves and sauté slowly, shaking the pan frequently to keep the garlic moving, until they are lightly browned on all sides, about 10 minutes. Add the wines, bring to a slow boil, and cook until the liquid is reduced to 1/4 cup, at which point the garlic should be very soft, indeed. Remove from the heat and set aside.

Preheat your oven to 300º F.

Season the lamb chops liberally with salt and pepper.

Heat a stovetop-to-oven-ready pan (like a cast-iron) over medium-high heat until it reaches the smoking point. Add the lamb chops and sear for 2 minutes on each side. Remove the pan from the stovetop and place it in the oven. Cook for an additional 4-8 minutes, until your lamb chops reach your desired level of doneness (our lamb loin chops took about 6 minutes in the oven). Take the pan out of the oven. Remove the lamb chops, place them on a cutting board, and allow them to rest 5 minutes.

While the lamb is resting, season the garlic mixture with salt and pepper and add the mint leaves. Serve each lamb chop with a few confited garlic cloves and drizzle the sauce overtop.

[confited garlic and mint sauce based on a recipe in Mario Batali's Molto Italiano]

Getting schooled rarely tasted so great.

New Year's Resolution: Go back to Hudson & Kingston at the earliest opportunity.

Strongtree Organic Coffee Roasters, 60 South Front Street ("at the train depot"), Hudson, NY, (518) 828-8778

Fleisher's Grass-Fed and Organic Meats, 307 Wall Street, Kingston, NY, (845) 338-6666

aj

* That was a few years ago, I'd be surprised if Mario hasn't changed his tune by now. For one thing, Fleisher's meats are featured at Batali's Casa Mono & Bar Jamón.

** Fleisher's "cooking instructions from the MooRu***" read as follows:

1. Oven preheat 300º [10 minutes]
2. Heat pan on stovetop to smoking point
3. Pre-salt each side [5-10 minutes ahead of time]
4. Put into pan / sear for 2 minutes each side
5. Put pork/lamb/chicken/beef into oven w/ pan
6. Pork > 6 minutes up to 10 minutes in oven [125º]
Lamb > 4-8 minutes in oven [120º]
Chicken > 10-15 minutes in oven [135-140º]
Beef > 4-8 minutes in oven [120º]
7. Take out of oven--let sit [rest] for 5 minutes

*** MooRu = meat + guru

On and Off the Road 2

fig. a: smokehouse pastoral

We'd gotten tipped off to Oscar's Adirondack Smoke House about 3 or 4 years ago by a fellow traveler here in Montreal, but we didn't follow up on the tip promptly, and within a few months, all thoughts of Oscar's famous smoked hams had wafted away like so much hickory smoke.

Thank god A & J refreshed our memories. They'd spent a few furious days eating their way back and forth across Montreal for their honeymoon (you know, the usual: Au Pied, Joe Beef, Salle à Manger, Cuisine Mas, Dic Ann's, The Main, Laloux, etc.), and on their way back to New York they made a few well-researched stops in the Adirondacks, one of which was Oscar's.

Two weeks later, on our way down to the Catskills, we pulled off the 87 at exit 23, and pulled into Warrensburg, to pay Oscar's a visit. And from the moment we set eyes on it, we knew it was going to be good.

fig. b: smokehouse gothic

I mean, "Choice MEATS," "HOME SMOKE HAMS BACON," and the name "OSCARS" printed directly on one of their smokehouse chimneys--how can you go wrong? (Especially with all that beautiful blue smoke wafting through the air...)

Now, if you're looking for 100% traditional country hams--the kind of backwoods masterpieces you can still find in Kentucky, Virginia, and Tennessee--you're not going to find them at Oscar's. They're crazy, but they're not that crazy.

What matters is the care Oscar's puts into their product, the way they sugar- and salt-cure their meats, and the way they smoke everything using that lovely, natural hardwood smoke. We loved their "petite" smoked ham (perfect for two!), their double-smoked bacon (now you're talking!), and their super-smoked cheddar cheese (yes!). And they make a mighty fine German-style red potato salad, too. We packed our cooler, and pointed our car back towards the highway.

Oscar's, 22 Raymond Lane, Warrensburg, NY, 1-800-627-3431

And if you're heading down to New York from Montreal, or up to Montreal from New York, Oscar's ain't but 5 minutes from the 87. That's a small price to pay for fine smokehouse fare.

aj

ps--TY A & J, and S, too.

Open House

fig. a: invitation

Sometime back in late June, we were part of a crack team of entertainers that had been enlisted to throw a summer bash commemorating a year in the Catskills. And, oh, what a year! In just 12 months, the M.H. Merchant Stone House had been restored, refurbished, and revitalized, local friendships had been cultivated, and roots (both literal and figurative) had been sunk deep in the ground. Not surprisingly, given this flurry of activity, The Caretakers were in a celebrating mood. We were thrilled to be invited to the festivities, and seriously honored to be asked to help represent.

So, bright and early, one fine Friday morning, we packed the AEB Mobile Unit full of barbecue gear and hit the road. We'd proposed a homestyle barbecue spread for the festivities, and The Caretakers liked our vision. The proposed menu looked something like this:

2 x 10-12 lb pork shoulders, applewood-smoked and pulled
Down East Baked Beans
Smokehouse Potato Salad
Tidewater Cole slaw
Poor man's caviar
Sweet tea
White Chocolate Cake & Strawberries

If many of these selections look familiar, there's a reason for that.

The next day, Saturday, was Party Day. When we'd arrived the day before, we'd hit the ground running, so a lot of our prep was already taken care of. On our last visit, Michelle and I had gathered a whole bunch of apple wood from the yard, so we had plenty of sweet-smelling fuel too.

fig. b: fruitwood 4 smoking

When I fired up the barbecue, it was still overcast, and threatening rain, and with all the rain they'd had over the last 4-5 weeks, the forest out back was bright, bright green.

fig. c: green forest, blue smoke

One of the last things we prepped was the sweet tea. We made a lot of tea, but it sure didn't look like it because the dispenser we were using could have held enough for the whole Russian Army.

fig. d: sweet tea

With all the prep work done, all the arrangements taken care of, it was time to wash up and make ourselves presentable for our guests.

fig. e: bathtime

About an hour before the guests showed up, with the shoulders still smoking away, I made a sign to advertise some of our offerings.

fig. f: what'll you have?

I spent hours tending the barbecue, but with my beers, my ballcap, my baseball glove and baseball, and my barbecue, not to mention the two most perfect shoulders I've ever seen, I was pretty much in hog heaven. Plus, I had a nice turntable to keep me company. These Caretakers had seriously thought of everything.

fig. g: bbq hi-fi

Minutes before the action got underway, with the shoulders nearing the moment of truth, Michelle and I took the time to have commemorative portraits taken.

fig. h: m & a

How did things turn out? The party was a huge hit, and, miracle of miracles, even though we'd had a number of downpours that very day, one of which was torrential, the skies cleared up right as the guests began to appear, the sun began to shine, and the evening was a perfect summer evening, with hundreds of fireflies dancing in the meadow, and thousands of stars in the sky. Our barbecue menu went over big--that combination of fruitwood and slow & low cooking made for the most succulent pulled pork and some sensationally smoky ribs--and we ended up making exactly the right amount of food: just enough to keep the midnight snackers occupied. But the real stars were the M.H. Merchant Stone House, its grounds, and its Caretakers. Everything was perfect, and--the true test!--the party soon took on a life of its own. Many of the guests had driven 2-3 hours from New York City and New Jersey to attend, and everyone seemed positively thrilled that they'd made the excursion.

A lot of people had heard that "a famous pastry chef" was part of the catering team, so there's no question that Michelle's dessert was eagerly anticipated. This being essentially a barbecue meal, she'd decided to go with a dessert that was more homespun. She'd settled on a simple, even foolproof, white cake whose tanginess (from the combination of buttermilk and white chocolate) makes for an ideal complement to fresh strawberries, and which she'd recently made a central part of her raspberry/pistachio dessert at Laloux. Strawberries were good and plentiful at the time, and Michelle envisioned following up the barbecue with something of a small-scale strawberry social. Now, if you live in Quebec, you might have noticed that the fraises d'automne are available now--if you've never tried them before, they're amazing, oftentimes even better than our summer strawberries, and this cake really lets them shine.

fig. i: quebec strawberries

White Chocolate Cake with Strawberries

2 c. flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/8 tsp salt
3 oz white chocolate, melted
1 1/2 sticks butter, soft
1 1/2 C sugar
4 yolks
1 tsp vanilla
1 C buttermilk
4 egg whites
1/4 C sugar

fresh strawberries, stemmed and quartered
sugar
lemon juice

Preheat oven to 350˚F.

Toss your strawberries with sugar and lemon juice to taste. Allow them to macerate while you make the cake.

Mix the dry ingredients together. Set aside. Cream the butter and first count of sugar together until light and fluffy. Add yolks one at a time, and scrape down the sides. Mix well. Add vanilla and melted white chocolate. Add buttermilk and dry ingredients alternately in 4 batches, ending with buttermilk. Set aside. Make a meringue with the whites and last count of sugar. Fold into the cake batter. Pour into a half-sheet pan (12” x 17”) lined with a silpat or parchment paper. Bake 15-20 min. Unmold when still warm.

Dress with some of your strawberries and enjoy.

[based on a recipe from Sherry Yard’s Desserts by the Yard]

The next day we celebrated the success of our celebration at a local swimming hole.

fig. j: water baby

And later that day we paid what's become a mandatory visit to Clare and Carl's on our way back to Montreal.

fig. k: clare & carl's

A half an hour later, on the other side of Plattsburgh, and with those ominous clouds now gone, we put the finishing touches on the weekend with a cone at another favorite of ours, Harrigan's Soft Ice Cream.

fig. l: harrigan's

Clare & Carl's, 4727 State Route 9, Plattsburgh, (518) 561-1163

Harrigan's Soft Ice Cream, 1247 State Route 3, West Plattsburgh, (518) 561-8110

aj

p.s. This post dedicated to the memory of Chico, who had the best personality, and the softest paws.

fig. m: sleepytime

A Kentucky Colonel in Upstate New York and other tales

fig. a: Valley Acres

Things began in Montreal, of course, but it wasn't until we reached Saratoga Springs and Valley Acres that we felt like our weekend escape was truly underway.

fig. b: ornamental corn

That was where we found the first farm stand of our trip, as well as the first crisp, local apples, the first dried corn (in this case, ornamental), and the first apple cider donuts.

fig. c: Michelle makes her getaway

Michelle grabbed a few beauties, posed for a picture, and we got back on the road.

fig. d: All Fired Up BBQ

We thought those apples would tide us over until we reached our destination in the Catskills, but when we smelled the sweet aromas coming from that roadside smoker by the side of the 9W, we knew we had to stop. Our oversized pulled pork sandwich wasn't exactly NC-style, but then the Catskills aren't exactly the Blue Ridge either. That fruitwood-smoked pork was tender and smoky, though, and that $2 side of smoked baked beans (a.k.a., "man beans," although I'm not sure why) was the best $2 I've spent in a long time.

fig. e: Hi-Way Drive-In

We made just one more teeny-tiny stop en route (to the lovely Hi-Way Drive-In)

fig. f: strong home

and half an hour later, we'd reached our destination.

fig. g: "the observatory"

In the observatory,

fig. h: "birds eye view"

we had a wonderful bird's eye view of the landscape.

fig. i: Col. Bill in the house

And in the kitchen, we had a surprise waiting for us: a Col. Bill Newsom's ham, a carefully selected, dry-cured, slow-smoked, aged, 15-lb beauty.

fig. j: ole no. 301

Well, it wasn't a complete surprise, because we'd gone ahead and ordered it from our friends in Princeton, KY when we knew we were going to be in the States for a weekend. We'd been fantasizing about getting our hands on our very own country ham for years, but we were never sure what to do about it because you can't mail-order a ham across the Canadian border and, sadly, neither of us has been anywhere near Kentucky in years. Somehow we'd even gotten it into our heads that there was some kind of Canadian ban on country hams. No U.S. country ham purveyor was willing to try shipping one across the border (we know, because we called a bunch of 'em), and we just figured the Canadian government was hostile towards the traditional curing methods of the Appalachian region. A couple of years ago we just gave up. Every once in a while, though, that urge would well up again, and we'd make some more inquiries. Then, finally, about a month ago, Michelle made an important discovery. She found out that technically there was no restriction against bringing a cured pork product across the border as long as two conditions were met: 1) it was under 20 kg in weight (per person!), and 2) it was for personal consumption only. The reason the country ham purveyors refused to ship hams to Canada had to do with spot checks that had occasionally held deliveries up at the border for weeks, even months, at a time. In other words, if we wanted a country ham there was absolutely no problem, we just had to go down to the States and haul it back ourselves (after spending the minimum amount of time required to avoid duties, of course). Hell, with the average weight of a country ham being about 15-20 lbs, we could conceivably get four or five country hams and bring 'em back, as long as we swore they were for personal consumption. (Yes, your Honor, I solemnly swear that these two hams are for my own personal consumption.)

fig. k: the first cut

Anyway, we promptly opened up the box and got to work on "ole No. 301," and minutes later we were savoring the very best ham of our lives. We'd had Col. Newsom's before, but never like this.

A couple of years ago we watched Anthony Bourdain's Decoding Ferran Adria. Adrià takes Bourdain on a brief and somewhat surprising tour of Spain to help him get inside the philosophy of El Bulli. One of their stops is Madrid's Museo del Jamón, and there Adrià and Bourdain spend some time dwelling on the fat of a particularly fine specimen of jamón. I remember saying to myself, "I think I understand what they're talking about...," but having never experienced jamón of that quality, I could only imagine. Well, now I think I have a better sense, because just the fat alone off that Col. Newsom's ham is a sight to behold.

Anyway, we could have spent the whole afternoon admiring "ole No. 301," but we had some things we needed to pick up for dinner, and, besides, it was absolutely beautiful out. So that's what we did: we went out.

fig. l: Farmer Todd's 1

We took a short drive so that I could get my bearings, but mainly we just hung out at Farmer Todd's, a.k.a. Black Walnut Farm. It was late afternoon when we got there, and things being quiet at the time, Farmer Todd was all too happy to show us around, and we were all too happy to admire his fields.

fig. m: Farmer Todd's 2

We picked up some apples, tomatoes, eggs, and a few other odds and ends, but the coup of the day was the U-pick lettuce patch out back. Michelle was handed a pair of scissors and a bag and she went to town, and later that night we had the very best mixed greens of the entire year. Farmer Todd also gave us a seriously hot tip. The next morning he was going to be receiving two shipments: 1) some fresh apple cider donuts and 2) some locally produced sheep's milk ricotta.

fig. n: apple cider donuts at Farmer Todd's

So the next day we went back again. For some fantastic apple cider donuts (even better than Valley Farms').

fig. o: fresh ricotta from Farmer Todd's

For some truly heavenly ricotta.

fig. p: popping corn from Farmer Todd's

And for some fresh popping corn.

fig. q: fall colors

Anyway, the weekend wasn't all about food. It was about seeing old friends, fresh air, chopping wood and reading by the wood stove, walks in the woods, and fall colors.

fig. r: upstate NY

It was about playing with the dog, and lazing in the grass.

fig. s: Heather Ridge Farm

It was also about checking out some of the local sites. There were more food-related places like Heather Ridge Farm, with its grass-fed lamb and beef, its pastured chickens, its award-winning honey, and its lovely assortment of squashes.

fig. t: I.U. Tripp & Co. 1

But there was also I.U. Tripp & Co. in Oak Hill, NY. Pretty much the antiques shop of our dreams.

fig. u: I.U. Tripp & Co. 2

I mean, just look at this place. And all of it housed within the most incredible antique of all: an 1888 general store. We spent hours, but we could have spent days. Especially because Mary Lou and Nick (and their many cats) were so much fun to hang out with.

fig. v: I.U. Tripp & Co. 3

Everywhere we looked, we saw things that seemed to be communicating with us. In the end, we really didn't get all that much--we kinda got totally overwhelmed. But we'll be back.

fig. w: icicle house 1

Almost as impressive (we didn't get to go inside this place) was the nearby Icicle House.

fig. x: icicle house 2

It made me think of Walker Evans and his American Gothic series from 1931, most of which were taken in Upstate New York. It's also for sale. We tried to imagine what it would be like to live in a house as singular as the Icicle House. And while I took some photographs of my own, Michelle and S. decided to take a closer look.

The Recipes

Needless to say, between us and our hosts, we did a ton of cooking at Strong House that weekend. What follows is just a small selection of recipes--two which were actually part of the weekend festivities, and one that was inspired by our weekend getaway to the Catskills.

Country ham? Check.

fig. y: country fresh eggs

Farm-fresh eggs? Check.

fig. z: country ham & eggs

Fried Kentucky Country Ham with Eggs and Red-Eye Gravy

country ham
eggs
coffee
brown sugar (optional)
freshly ground black pepper

Slice your ham about 1/4" thick. Trim off the rind, but do not trim the fat. The fat provides loads (and I mean loads) of flavor and no other fat will be needed.

Fry the ham slices gently in a large heavy skillet, turning the lean away from the hottest point of the skillet. Be careful to fry slowly and to not over fry. This will make the ham tough. It will also make the fat smoke. Ham is usually done when the fat has turned translucent and the ham begins to brown slightly. Place on your plates.

[For a milder, less salty taste, soak the ham slices in lukewarm water or sweet milk for up to 30 minutes before frying. Make sure to pat them completely dry before frying, though.]

Pour your drippings in a small bowl.

Add a little coffee to the hot skillet after removing the ham and simmer for a couple of minutes, scraping up the ham bits. Make sure there's enough coffee so that it doesn't entirely evaporate. Pour in the bowl of drippings. Stir well and continue to simmer for another minute or two. Add a bit of brown sugar to taste, if you like--this will add color and additional flavor. Add freshly ground black pepper. Do not add salt. Between the drippings and the ham, you won't need it. Pour the gravy over your ham slices.

Accompany with a couple of fried eggs and a biscuit (see recipe below).

[recipe courtesy of Col. Bill Newsom's Hams]

Fresh ricotta cheese? Check.

We'd made crostini with some of our ricotta, but we still had some leftover. Luckily we had a copy of The New York Times Magazine's food issue (October 12), and therefore we had Christina Muhlke's "The Way We Eat" column on Kenny Shopsin and his new book, Eat Me, and therefore we had Shopsin's recipe for Lemon Ricotta Pancakes. We also had his recipe for Mac 'n' Cheese Pancakes, but we had farm-fresh ricotta on-hand, so it really wasn't much of a decision.

fig. aa: ricotta pancakes

Lemon Ricotta Pancakes

3 cups pancake batter (recipe follows)
zest of two lemons
2/3 cup whole-milk ricotta
peanut oil
butter
maple syrup

Stir the batter and the zest together. Gently fold in the ricotta.

Clean a griddle or heavy-bottomed skillet by running an oily cloth over it. If the cloth snags, scrape to remove, then wipe down the griddle with peanut oil. Set the griddle over moderate heat. (It’s hot enough when a drop of water bounces off the surface.) Pour a thin layer of peanut oil over the griddle. Just before you drop the batter, run cold butter across the area where you are going to cook. When it bubbles, drop the batter in 4-inch circles and immediately raise the heat to medium-high. Cook, adjusting the heat so as not to burn the ricotta, until bubbles appear, 1 to 3 minutes. Using a thin metal spatula, quickly flip and gently tap to make them uniform in thickness. Cook until the second side is golden. Serve with real maple syrup.

Makes about 12.

Pancake Batter

7 tablespoons butter
1 1/3 cups whole milk
3 large eggs
1 1/4 cups flour
1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon sugar
1 tablespoon plus 2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt.

In a saucepan over medium-low heat, heat the butter and milk until the butter melts. Set aside until lukewarm. Beat the eggs in a medium bowl. Slowly pour 1/2 cup of the warm milk mixture into the eggs while stirring. Stir in the remaining milk mixture.

In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder and salt. Pour the egg mixture into the flour mixture, a little at a time, stirring slowly, just until the dry ingredients are moistened. The batter should be lumpy and will start to bubble.

Makes about 3 1/2 cups.

[Courtesy of The New York Times. Adapted from “The Breakfast Book,” by Marion Cunningham.]

fig. bb: Michelle liberates the popping corn

Organic popping corn? Check.

fig. cc: Felknor's

Felknor's stovetop popcorn popper? Check.*

fig. dd: Chunk-E-Nut

Vintage Chunk-E-Nut caramel corn box from I.U. Tripp & Co.? Check. The box was actually the inspiration behind this next one. Michelle just bought the box because she loved the way it looked. When we got back home she realized she absolutely had to make some of her own Chunk-E-Nut to fill it with.

fig. ee: caramel corn

Michelle's Chunk-E-Nut Caramel Corn

popping corn from one cob, about 1/3 cup
3/4 stick unsalted butter
1 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup Lyle's golden syrup (you can also use corn syrup, if you prefer, but to get that true "Michelle's Caramel Corn" flavor we recommend Lyle's)
2 Tbsp. water
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1 Tbsp. vanilla
1/2 cup salted peanuts

Preheat the oven to 200°F. Pop the corn in a stovetop popper, a hot-air popper or in a covered pot with a bit of oil. Set aside in a large bowl.

fig. ff: freshly popped corn

In a small saucepan, melt the butter. Add the sugar, syrup, water, and salt, and bring to a boil, stirring carefully to melt all the sugar. Heat to 260°F, stir in the baking soda, vanilla and peanut and pour over the popcorn. Stir quickly using two wooden spoons in a salad-tossing motion. Pour out onto a parchment-lined baking sheet and bake for one hour, stirring every 10 min. Let cool and store in an airtight container, or place in vintage Chuck-E-Nut caramel corn box and eat it all up.

Makes a lot.

And last, but certainly not least...

fig. gg: biscuits

fig. hh: ham & biscuit

Ham & Biscuits

3 cups flour
1 scant tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. baking soda
4 tsp. baking powder
2/3 cup butter or lard
1 cup plus 2 Tbsp. buttermilk
country ham, shaved

Preheat oven to 450°F. Sift the flour, salt, baking soda and powder together in a large bowl. Cut in butter or lard with your fingers until it forms a coarse meal. Pour buttermilk over the mixture and stir quickly with a wooden spoon. Pour out onto a lightly floured surface and fold once or twice. Roll out to 1/2" thick and pierce the surface with a fork. Cut into rounds and place on a baking sheet. Do not re-roll the scraps, no matter how much you want to. Bake for 13 min., until golden brown.

Serve with country ham, either plain or with a suitable condiment (like jerusalem artichoke relish, chow chow, or pickled corn).

[Based on a recipe from Edna Lewis' The Taste of Country Cooking.]

For more information about Col. Bill Newsom's hams (everything you ever wanted or needed to know, actually), follow this link.

FIN

am/km

* If you haven't tried a Felknor's or a Whirley-Pop popcorn popper, we highly recommend them.

Erratum: This post previously described Farmer Todd's ricotta as being made with "goat's milk." Unlikely, I know, but that's what he told us. We later confirmed that the cheese in question was made with sheep's milk.