Adventures in Food

Sometimes I fall out of the blogiverse from lack of inspiration, or from boredom.  The past two weeks have been the opposite.  I’ve been so busy having adventures that I haven’t had time to document them all!  An excellent problem to have, and one that I’m sitting down to rectify at 10:30 on a Wednesday night.

Don’t worry, there are lots of pictures.

As my professional/social network grows, I managed to get Miss Chef and myself invited to an oven party.  Perfect for a chef, eh?  The deal is this couple have an outdoor wood-fired oven that they fire up, invite all the neighbors, and have everyone make their own pizzas to cook up.

One of the guys is an artist, working in ceramics.  So the oven has a unique appearance, like a miniature Gaudi home imported from Barcelona.

You can almost make out the name above the opening: Château d’Ough.  Get it?  It’s a pun on the French “château d’eau,” which is pronounced the same but simply means water tower.  We’re getting all European up in here.

The oven is surrounded by a lush backyard, complete with a huge dining table and granite-topped counters.  It’s a perfect place to gather on a perfect fall evening, so it’s not surprising that it was packed by the time the pizzas were going in.

Of course, the lighting sucked for photography, but here’s a picture of dinner cooking.  Those foil packets on the right are two heads of garlic I brought for roasting.

Miss Chef and I had a fun time, eating, drinking and meeting some new friends.  But that was just the start of our weekend.  Of course Saturday was full of markets, interviews and the like.  But Sunday was the big event.  The Piedmont Culinary Guild, a collection of chefs, farmers and other nodes in the local food network, was putting on its second annual Carved event, and Miss Chef and I were both volunteering.

We gather over 25 local chefs in one place, give them each a pumpkin and two hours to play.  The public pays to watch, vote and enjoy some free samples, music and other entertainment.  To be clear, the samples were of locally grown popcorn and pressed-on-site cider, not raw pumpkin.

We set up two long tables, back to back, halfway down the market.  There were a whole lot of pumpkins to admire and vote on.  This one below was on its way to becoming one of the Wild Things from the Maurice Sendak book.

 

This is a student at the Art Institute, who just happens to be from Thailand, where they take their fruit carving seriously.

 

There were no restrictions on props, so there were clouds of dry ice, extra lights…

 

…and even live fish!  This was my favorite, but it was unveiled very late in the proceedings, after most people had already voted.

Halfway through the carving, I was dragooned into making announcements—“30 minutes left, buy more voting tickets and stop by our t-shirt table!”—so I didn’t get photos of all the finished products.  This next one ended up being the winner—it was labeled “Spooky Sushi,” and I think its popularity was due in part to the original way he broke the pumpkin down into a tube, which he then sliced into rounds.

I don’t eat sushi, so I don’t get it.

After a 5-hour shift of hauling tables and chairs and standing on concrete flooring, I woke up sore and stiff on Monday.  But I didn’t have a whole lot of time to waste.  I had deadlines and interviews lined up all week (although my interview schedule keeps changing).  My weekly online stories had garnered the attention of a caterer we know who’s starting up another side business and needed some web content written.  So, bam, I’m a web content writer.  My first freelance contract!

Anyway, I had that draft due, along with my usual Wednesday deadline.  But I had to get them in early, because Wednesday was already packed, with a conference call and two foodie events.

The first event was in Miss Chef’s A la Carte class.  She asked Matt, a sous-chef whose family has a beef business, if he’d sell her half a cow and come in to show the students how to break it down.

Which he did.

That’s 350 pounds of grass-fed beef.  Matt is more comfortable fabricating pigs, so he recruited another chef, Clark, to help him out.  Miss Chef and another instructor had to lend a hand, too.

After an hour and a half with several knives and a couple of saws, they had this ready to store in the cooler.

This is more or less what they call “primal cuts,” which the students will have to break down further into ribs, steaks, etc.  If they can buy entire animals or even primal cuts, they’ll save their future kitchens a lot of money.

My second foodie event of the day was on the opposite side of the food preparation scale.  One of our favorite restaurants, Passion8 (where we got to know Matt when he was sous-chef there), has moved nearer to uptown Charlotte, and tonight was their media night.  They invited all us important writer types to tour the new space, with a glass of Prosecco in hand and elegant hors d’oeuvres coming around.

Again, I had to fight with low lighting.  This is the main dining area—out of three—with the bar behind it.  There are lots of curtains used to separate different sections, which should also help with baffling sound in this high-ceilinged space.

A view from the “mezzanine” area down to the bar, with the main dining room to the left.

These were sweet potato chips with a squash crema and some stuff I can’t remember…

…and this is the whole selection of hors d’oeuvres.  From front to back, tomato & shallot salad on olive oil cracker, braised chicken with apricot and sesame on lettuce, the sweet potato chip, braised pork on house-made foccacia and truffled shortbread with foie gras mousse and muscadine foam.

Part of the reason I’m bothering with all the detailed ingredients is that tomorrow I have to sit down and write a concise couple of paragraphs about this opening for Creative Loafing.  It’s a quick turnaround time, but I’m feeling generous today, since they just came out with…

…my first cover story!

Yup, 2000 words worth of freaky stories collected from some of my favorite chef friends.  Click the picture to read them for yourself.

And now, it’s off to bed.  Tomorrow’s another adventure.

Farms For Fun and Profit

Last week I spent two different days helping out in very different ways at two different farms.  In order to go in chronological order, I’ll have to defy my title and start with the “for profit” one, first.

At the market a couple of months ago, Mindy at Tega Hills Farm mentioned to Miss Chef that they were going to be looking for a new delivery driver soon.  Long story short, last week I helped out a couple of days, riding along and doing the running…and jumping, hopping, lifting, shifting, stepping, stumbling and fumbling.  Of course, none of this was conducive to taking any photos—I needed both hands to manage invoice, box or bag, pen and doors. 

However, on the morning of the second day, I did have a couple of minutes while we were packing to document a bit. Tega Hills specializes in lettuces, microgreens and edible flowers, and most of their crops are grown hydroponically, in greenhouses.

In the front, you can see the dark square area that is uncovered water.  The white squares are foam boards with holes which receive small cups where seedlings are placed.  These boards float in a nutrient-rich solution which is circulated through a system that is undoubtedly confusing and simple all at the same time.  Me, I just enjoy seeing the pretty colors floating around in the water.

Here’s another shot, where you can see some of the younger plants near the back.

I’m going to guess that these varieties are red oak and green oak lettuces, with a section of dark green kale on the right.

The microgreens, which are grown in soil in a separate greenhouse, are even more colorful.

In case you’re wondering, microgreens are simply the seedlings of familiar edible plants, such as these tiny beets above.  Not only do they serve as colorful garnishes, but they impart a surprising amount of flavor, which is sometimes more subtle or less bitter than their full-grown counterparts.  Some of the more unusual microgreens they sell are celery, purple radish leaves, pea sprouts and my personal favorite, popcorn shoots.  Yes, they taste like corn!

I interviewed Mindy for my article on squash blossoms, and was excited to see the very vertical growing method they use for the zucchini and cucumbers—yes, they sell those vegetables, too.

On the right, you can see the nylon netting used to support the cucumbers; to the left you can see just how long these rows are.  Can you imagine trying to get your kids to eat all that zucchini at home?

And in case you were wondering just how you would package up all those colorful heads of lettuce, here’s a picture from inside the cold room.

For each order, the appropriate number of heads are put into giant plastic bags, which are tied shut and put in the open-top waxed cardboard boxes.  Each box costs about $2 and can hold about 25 heads (so that’s about $30 worth of boxes you see there).  The microgreens are put into small zip-top bags or small plastic tubs like take-out containers, then orders are put together in plastic “t-shirt” shopping bags.  Most deliveries involved one box or a small bag of microgreens, but some restaurants ordered two boxes plus microgreens.

So now lets think about what it takes to get that crunchy lettuce or tasty microgreen from the farm to your table.  First it has to be plucked from its watery bed, packed as above, and the box labeled with the name of the restaurant and the contents, so it can be matched against the invoice.  Then the boxes are stacked in the bed and cab of the pickup truck in order of delivery, so the first deliveries are on top, and the last deliveries are in the air-conditioned cab.  This takes some excellent knowledge of the route, which involves 30 to 40 stops.  There are also a couple of coolers in the bed, for the myriad bags of microgreens.

Once the truck is loaded up, off we head with a stack of invoices as our guide.  Most of the stops are simple.  As we drive, I check the next invoice and figure out if I need a box, a bag from the cooler, or both.  Once we arrive, I hop out of the cab, hustle to the back of the truck, pull the order, carry it inside, barge my way into the kitchen (“Hey there, I need someone to sign for a delivery!”), quickly verify with the chef/manager that the order is all there (“One purple radish, two mix, one popcorn, plus the lettuce”), have them sign their copy of the invoice, thank them and go.  Sometimes I’d forget the box, and have to go back in, but for the most part it was in, hello, sign, thanks, bye.

Many of the Uptown restaurants are vastly more complicated.  Many require finding on-street parking, which is particularly challenging when streets are blocked off as they were on Friday for Taste of Charlotte.  Also, those “Parking for Delivery Only” signs are really important.  Sometimes I had to haul boxes down a block, or through a parking garage because the usual parking spots weren’t available.

Then there are the deliveries to restaurants located in 30-story skyscrapers housing corporate headquarters for banks and other security-conscious companies. 

source

Here we have to stop before even entering the delivery dock, so security can check our IDs, and do a sweep of the truck, including having us pop the hood and using mirrors to check underneath the chassis.  Fortunately, the driver is Mindy’s husband Mark, who has been doing this for a decade, and knows many of the security personnel, as well as the routine.

Now, once we get back into the truck and park where we’re told, I have to go through another security checkpoint.  At the “dockmaster” window, I have to surrender my ID for a “Contractor” ID and sometimes keys or an electronic key card to operate the elevator.  My favorite is the delivery to a restaurant on the 27th floor of a building that has a single freight elevator for to serve all those floors.  There’s often a bit of “hurry up and wait” involved in this job.  I have to move as quickly as possible to try to get to all 40 stops before 5:00 dinner service starts, so standing in front of a slow-moving elevator can be a bit irritating.

And that is where I often I find myself thinking “All this for a few ounces of microgreens?”  Once all the harvesting, packing and delivery rigamarole is completed, the kitchens still have to rinse and prep the lettuce, and store and portion the microgreens before they finally hit the plate, where diners may say, “Oh, how lovely,” before stuffing it in their mouths and continuing their conversation about stock futures or The Voice.

Fortunately for my sanity, this is not going to be a long-term job, more of a fill-in and backup position for when they find themselves shorthanded.  Even if it would drive me nuts long-term, it is an interesting insight into a hidden part of the food-supply system, not to mention a cool way to get to see some of the city’s best restaurants and meet more chefs.

Now, let’s change gears a bit, as we move into the second half of today’s post: Farms for Fun.  Saturday was another work day at Friendship Garden’s urban farm project at a local high school, which I’ve posted about already here.  This weekend’s event was a huge effort of Wells Fargo, where over 50 volunteers came out to help rake, weed, mulch, dig, haul and put their hands to any other job the garden could offer.

I was assigned a team to mulch under the few orchard trees next to the raised-bed area.  Sadly, I didn’t think to take a “before” shot, but here are a couple of this incredibly hard-working group when they were nearly finished with this task.

There was a huge stack of cardboard boxes, which had to be stripped of any tape or stickers that wouldn’t break down, then flattened and placed on the ground as weed stop before the mulch was barrowed over and spread.  Fortunately, although the high temperatures were forecast near 90, the sun was hidden most of the morning by a thin layer of clouds.

After this mulch job was done, the volunteers took their wheelbarrows down to the main field, which has been divided into three large beds.  One is already planted, but needed plenty of hands to help pull weeds.  The second one in back needed paths mulched before the planting rows were mounded up and compost dug in.

Here’s a shot to my left, which gives you some idea of the scale of this project.

You can see one quadrant of the first field, and the 100-foot long greenhouse in back.  The shipping container to the right serves as a storage shed for tools, seeds and equipment, and has had a solar panel installed to provide power for the aquaponics pumps in the greenhouse.  Amazing system, isn’t it?

Shortly after I took this picture, the sun came out, and I started flagging.  Those amazing volunteers, however, kept right on going, completing an enormous amount of work before leaving around 12:30.  There was even one woman who was still recovering from mono, but still came out and did what she could.

Last time I came out in April, the first field looked like this.

Notice the other two fields hadn’t even been plowed under yet.  This past weekend, I took this parting shot, from a little farther away.

You can see the scarecrow in both photos, which should help give some idea of how much progress has been made.

All in all, this weekend has made me realize one thing—growing food for mass consumption is hard work!  My little garden doesn’t seem like such a chore after all this.

Gather, Part 1

Have you ever heard of an underground dinner?  Sometimes called secret supper clubs, they are invitation-only dinners hosted by chefs in unexpected venues.  Miss Chef first heard of these being done collaboratively by rising young chefs in Charleston and Raleigh, though they are popping up all over the country.

Now Miss Chef is going to do her own.

She is starting slowly, with only about 8 guests so far.  They are a combination of friends, colleagues and guests who have had her food at the restaurant.  And, of course, me.  The paying guests know only that the menu will be designed to highlight seasonal, locally-sourced ingredients.  They are trusting that whatever Miss Chef comes up with, it will be worth the price.

The dinner is not until Sunday night, but since Miss Chef has been working on this for a month or more, I thought I would invite you along to visit a place that I’ve always found fascinating—Restaurant Depot.  Even the most locally-sourced menu is going to need a little help from a restaurant supply store.  Nobody around here farms storage containers or bus tubs, as far as I know.

Only restaurant professionals can shop here.  You have to have a membership—which Miss Chef got when she was working for Chef Adam—or, if you happen to be a Chef Instructor at a local school, you can just show your ID.  Camera-wielding sidekicks do not need a pass, so while Miss Chef was getting her temporary card, I captured some 50 pound sacks of onions and potatoes to share with you.

Just like the retail shopping clubs (Sam’s Club, Costco, etc.), everything here is sold in large quantities.  I don’t know if the quantities are larger, or it’s just because it’s food, but I always find a trip here fascinating.  About a third of the store is a giant cooler (Miss Chef didn’t need anything in this section, but she was kind enough to bear with me while I wandered through taking pictures).  Push aside the thick plastic flaps hanging in the doorway, and you enter what is essentially a two-story refrigerated warehouse:

Brrrrr.  Coats are available for the faint of heart.

First, there’s the produce.  Iceberg salad, anyone?  Carrots are also sold in 50-pound bundles, wrapped in orange plastic.

 

Next is the meats section.  Or, to be honest, animal parts.

Those signs are printed on full 8 1/2” x 11” sheets, to give you some idea of scale.  There are also stacks of hotdogs, three-foot long bolognas and all kinds of giant dried sausages.

A little further on, you enter the dairy section.  Oh, if only we had the storage space for this much cheese!

 

 

Perhaps my favorite picture is of the far wall—eggs by the gross!  These boxes were stacked all the way up to the ceiling.  Just like the poor birds that laid them, no doubt.

 

There’s much more than food here, though.  Have you ever stopped to wonder where your favorite restaurants get all the bits and bobs you probably don’t think about?

For instance, the bowls and trays at the school cafeteria or your favorite salad bar?  You too can carry your plate from kitchen to table on your own plastic tray!

 

Or the various condiment containers you might find at your local Italian place?  Grated parmesan and red pepper flakes, for everyone!

 

I had no idea there was such a market for pizza peels (that’s what they call these long wooden paddles, used to manipulate food in a wood-burning oven).

 

If Miss Chef were ever to set up a gift registry for herself, one of these would probably be on it.

Vitamix blenders start around $300, but nothing comes near to their effectiveness.  They’re probably ridiculously loud, too, so maybe it’s just as well we can’t afford one.

We can afford tongs, though not this many!

 

I’ve saved the most important picture for last…back in the produce area, I made a world-shaking discovery.  I can now reveal, for all to see, the true name of God!

Also, apparently he is a purveyor of cabbage.  And, according to the lower right, Jesus’ real name was Jacob.

I’ll leave you to ponder the theological implications of my finding, but I might recommend you consider making sauerkraut and coleslaw a more important part of your diet.

I plan to take enough pictures Sunday night to write Part 2 of this adventure, the part that will make you hungry.

Carved!

I’m totally going out of order.  I did indeed take some photos during our trip to the state fair last Saturday, but right now I want to share photos from Sunday afternoon’s big event.

The Piedmont Culinary Guild is a new organization Miss Chef was asked to be a founding member of earlier this year.  It comprises mostly chefs, and their mission is to elevate awareness of local food sources for restaurants and educate the dining public about them.  This was their first big event, a fundraising effort to support a farmers’ fund sponsored by the local chapter of Slow Food.

This was a competition among chefs, but not like your typical “secret ingredient” cookoff.  No, this was a carve-off!  Almost 20 area chefs entered to compete for pride, public exposure, bragging rights and $100 cash.  They had two hours to carve their own pumpkins, while the public was invited to watch, mingle, drink local beer, eat popcorn, and vote for their favorites.

Miss Chef “invited” me to volunteer, so I showed up an hour early to set up tents, string lights, duct tape cords and direct traffic.  The carving began at precisely 4 pm, and though I was stuck at the side entrance for a while, and was hawking activity tickets, I did have plenty of time to circulate and see how things were going.

Some chefs used the traditional approach, with stencils and Halloween themes…

 

Some did nontraditional themes that showcased their skills.  This is a student from Miss Chef’s school, who is from Thailand.  He was was assisting another Chef Instructor from the school.

 

While she worked in a more typical stance, he made himself comfortable and delved into his work.

 

Chef Adam was competing too.  I joked with him a bit, but he was atypically serious at times.

 

Then there were those chefs who really went all out.  One showed up with a monster---wish I’d been there to see them lift that up onto the table!

 

Another had a multi-pumpkin storyline going on…

 

There was a pretty good crowd gathered, and it was a great, kid-friendly event with face-painting, tattoos, a picture booth and a kids’ carving competition, too.  It was held at Atherton Market, a farmers’ market housed in an old cotton mill in Charlotte’s South End neighborhood.

 

Each chef was given a market stall to work.  Some of them shared space.  Many brought candy…to tilt the judges in their favor, perhaps.

 

Have you noticed the orange jack o’lantern buckets on each chef’s table?

That was for the public to vote for their favorite pumpkins.  They could buy raffle tickets at $1 a pop and drop them into their chef’s bucket.  One person bought 40 tickets at one go!  In addition, after the votes were tallied, one ticket was selected from each bucket, and that person won that chef’s carved masterpiece to take home for their very own.

By six o’clock, several of the chefs had already finished.

 

Then the call went out for knives down, and the lights were turned off so the jack o’lanterns could shine.

Which one would you vote for?

El día de los muertos?

 

A beautiful flower?

 

Old Man Winter?

 

A cannibalistic cyclops?  (There was a dry ice mist floating out through the mouth.)

 

A belligerent Yoda?

 

Or perhaps a prickle of hedgehogs?

 

I’ll tell you the winner in the comments, but I’ll tell you here that it’s not the one I would have voted for.  As it was, the tickets had to be counted three times to be sure, as the margin of victory was only seven points!

The Guild hasn’t had time yet to count up the proceeds, but I hope soon to learn how much money was raised for Slow Food Charlotte.  The lead organizer had counted on this being a one-time event, but everyone I talked to was already looking forward to next year.  Looks like the Guild just might have a new tradition on their hands!