Hip hip hooray for my CSA!

Excuse me while I interrupt my countdown-to-El Bulli posts to tell you how much I love my CSA. A CS-what you ask?

A CSA (community supported agriculture) program allows participants to buy a share in a local farm and receive a variety of produce on a regular basis. In January, Daniel and I signed up for a half share with the Carroll Gardens CSA and a few weeks ago, we picked up our very first shipment.

All of our produce comes from Garden of Eve, an organic farm on the East End of Long Island. For the next six months, we'll be able to eat fresh, delicious, and best of all -- chemical-free -- fruits and vegetables. We also added an egg share, and it should come as no surprise that farm fresh eggs rock! Plump and a sunny shade of yellow, these puppies put hormone-packed supermarket eggs to shame.

When you belong to a CSA, you're not only supporting local farmers, but you're preventing unnecessary pollution. Yes, Whole Foods might be organic, but half that stuff comes from faraway places. Think of all the fuel that's needed just to ship it! And, you only get fruits and vegetables that are in season, so you can say goodbye to mealy peaches and freaky tasting tomatoes.

And now, without further ado, here are three more reasons I love my CSA and why I know you would too!

#1: You never know what you'll get in each shipment, so a CSA encourages culinary creativity

Our first shipment included mustard greens, a spicy staple in southern and Indian kitchens. After searching various recipe sites to find a way to cook them, I remembered a Chard and Saffron tart that I was addicted to a few months ago thanks to Luisa.

Soon I was chopping up a mixture of kale and mustard greens and whisking a few of those bright, beautiful eggs, and just a few hours later, Daniel and I were gushing over how much we love this zingy, vitamin-packed veggie.

#2: When your CSA gives you a ton of sweet strawberries, make shortcake!

Our first shipment also included an overwhelming amount of strawberries. We picked everything up on a Saturday and had plans for a potluck BBQ at my friend Courtney's new house in Connecticut that same night. The minute I saw those super sweet berries, I remembered a great shortcake recipe from Everyday Food that would use up 3/4 of them; the rest made a lovely strawberry juice on Sunday.

As long as I've known Courtney (25 years and counting!), she's never been too into sweets.

But now that she's 8 months pregnant with a little boy whose name she won't divulge (Justin? Zachary? Isaac?), she can't get enough of them.

#3: You can take your love of crumb cake to a whole new level

A few days before my CSA started, Melissa Clark wrote about a rhubarb crumb cake in The New York Times. Rhubarb is one of those unusual vegetables that I just love (okra is another), and you all know how much I like crumb cake.

Our CSA started up right around the time Daniel and I downloaded Season 3 of Lost on Itunes. So happy to be reunited with Jack, Kate, Sawyer, and my favorite Australians Claaaah and Cha-lie (I'm addicted to saying their names the way they do), I decided to bake a cake.

And now, not only do I love my CSA for giving me the rhubarb to try this recipe, but I'm forever indebted to Melissa Clark for her spectacular spin on coffee cake. Big, fat cinnamony crumbs are comforting and a bit guilt-inducing, and soft, sour slivers of rhubarb keep it from becoming too sweet. We finished the whole thing in two days.

So, have I convinced you to join a CSA yet? If so (and I hope I have!), you can find one if your area here.

Mustard Greens, Kale and Saffron Tart
Serves 6-8

Yeasted tart dough
1 teaspoon active dry yeast ( 1/2 package)
Pinch sugar
1 egg, at room temperature
About 1 1/4 cups unbleached white flour, divided
1/2 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons crème fraîche

1. Dissolve the yeast and sugar in one-fourth cup warm water (105 to 115 degrees) and set it in a warm place.

2. If the egg is cold from the refrigerator, cover it with hot water and let it sit a few minutes to bring it up to room temperature. Combine 1 cup of the flour and the salt in a bowl and make a well. Break the egg into the middle of it; add the crème fraîche and pour in the yeast mixture, which should be foamy with bubbles. Mix everything together with a wooden spoon to form a smooth, soft dough, adding more flour as necessary. Dust it with flour, gather it into a ball, set it in a clean bowl and cover. Let the dough rise in a warm place, 45 minutes to an hour. If you are not ready to shape the dough at this time, punch it down and let it rise again.

3. Flatten the dough, place it in the center of the tart pan, and press it out to the edge using either your knuckles or the heel of your hand. Add only enough flour to keep the dough from sticking. If the dough shrinks back while you are shaping it, cover it with a towel, let it relax for 20 minutes, then finish pressing it out. It should be about one-fourth inch higher than the rim of the pan. It can be filled immediately or refrigerated until needed.

Tart
7 cups of kale and mustard greens, roughly chopped
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 large yellow onion, cut into 1/4 -inch dice
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
3/4 teaspoon salt
3 eggs
1 1/2 cups half and half
Large pinch saffron threads, soaked in 1 tablespoon hot water
1/2 teaspoon grated lemon peel
3 tablespoons freshly grated Parmesan
Nutmeg
1 tablespoon chopped parsley
Freshly ground black pepper
3 tablespoons pine nuts
1 recipe yeasted tart dough

1. Cut the chard leaves away from the stems and save the stems for another purpose. Chop the leaves into pieces roughly an inch square, wash them in a large bowl of water and set them aside in a colander.

2. Heat the oven to 375 degrees. In a wide skillet, heat the butter and oil over medium heat; add the onion and cook it until it is translucent and soft, about 6 minutes. Add the garlic, the chard leaves (by handfuls, if necessary, until they all fit) and the salt. Turn the leaves over repeatedly with a pair of tongs so that they are all exposed to the heat of the pan and cook until they are tender, 5 minutes or more. When the chard mixture is cooled, squeeze out any excess moisture with paper towels.

3. To make the custard, beat the eggs, then stir in the half and half, infused saffron, lemon peel, grated Parmesan, a few scrapings of nutmeg and the parsley. Stir in the chard and onion mixture. Season with more salt, if needed, and freshly ground black pepper.

4. Toast the pine nuts in a small pan over medium heat until they are lightly colored, 2 minutes. Pour the filling into the tart shell and scatter the pine nuts over the surface. Bake until the top is golden and firm, about 40 minutes.

Strawberry Shortcake
Serves 8

1 3/4 pounds (6 Cups) strawberries, rinsed, hulled, and quartered
1 1/4 cups plus 2 Tablespoons sugar
3 cups all-purpose flour
4 teaspoons baking powder
3/4 teaspoon salt
12 tablespoons cold (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
2 cups heavy cream
2 large eggs
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. In a medium bowl, toss strawberries with 3/4 cup sugar; let sit to bring out their juices.

2. In a food processor, pulse flour, baking powder, 1/2 cup sugar, and the salt until combined. Add butter, and pulse until mixture resembles coarse meal but with some pea-size bits of butter remaining, 10 to 12 times. In a medium bowl, whisk together 1/2 cup cream and the eggs; pour over flour mixture, and pulse until some large clumps begin to form, 25 to 30 times.

3. Using a half-cup measuring cup, gently pack dough, invert, and then tap out onto a baking sheet. Repeat to form 8 biscuits. Bake until lightly golden, about 20 minutes. Transfer to a rack to cool, about 15 minutes.

4. Beat remaining 1 1/2 cups cream and 2 tablespoons sugar with the vanilla until soft peaks form.

5. Slice biscuits in half horizontally. Spoon strawberries and their liquid over bottom halves. Spoon whipped cream on strawberries, and replace top halves of biscuits.

Rhubarb ‘Big Crumb’ Coffeecake
Serves 6-8

FOR THE RHUBARB FILLING:
1/2 pound rhubarb, trimmed
1/4 cup sugar
2 teaspoons cornstarch
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger

FOR THE CRUMBS:
1/3 cup dark brown sugar
1/3 cup granulated sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup melted butter
1 3/4 cups cake flour
FOR THE CAKE:
1/3 cup sour cream
1 large egg
1 large egg yolk
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup cake flour
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
6 tablespoons softened butter, cut into 8 pieces.
1. Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Grease an 8-inch-square baking pan. For filling, slice rhubarb 1/2 inch thick and toss with sugar, cornstarch and ginger. Set aside.
2. To make crumbs, in a large bowl, whisk together sugars, spices, salt and butter until smooth. Stir in flour with a spatula. It will look like a solid dough.
3. To prepare cake, in a small bowl, stir together the sour cream, egg, egg yolk and vanilla. Using a mixer fitted with paddle attachment, mix together flour, sugar, baking soda, baking powder and salt. Add butter and a spoonful of sour cream mixture and mix on medium speed until flour is moistened. Increase speed and beat for 30 seconds. Add remaining sour cream mixture in two batches, beating for 20 seconds after each addition, and scraping down the sides of bowl with a spatula. Scoop out about 1/2 cup batter and set aside.
4. Scrape remaining batter into prepared pan. Spoon rhubarb over batter. Dollop set-aside batter over rhubarb; it does not have to be even.
5. Using your fingers, break topping mixture into big crumbs, about 1/2 inch to 3/4 inch in size. They do not have to be uniform, but make sure most are around that size. Sprinkle over cake. Bake cake until a toothpick inserted into center comes out clean of batter (it might be moist from rhubarb), 45 to 55 minutes. Cool completely before serving.

Saint-Pierre-des-Champs and La Fargo

Everyone keeps asking about my El Bulli post. I know, I know, I ate there exactly one month ago and haven't posted a single word. Not even a measy photo! It's just that I'm a Virgo and aside from being kind, sensitive souls, we require order. I've already told you all about Paris, and now it's time to spread the word about La Fargo in Saint-Pierre-des-Champs, the second stop on our food-filled journey through France and Spain.

After a long, 8-hour car ride (with a quick lunch in Limoges at a place that could be the Au Bon Pain of France), we arrived in Saint-Pierre-des-Champs, a tiny town in the Languedoc-Roussillon region. What brought us there? La Fargo, a lovely inn that my Mom visited with her sister a few years ago. After hearing their stories about the top-notch meals and ultra serene setting, I'd been dying to visit.

Moments after arriving in the sleepy town, I felt like a Calgon commerical. My stress literally just melted away. Paris had been rainy and surprisingly chilly. Here, the skies were a crisp, clear blue, the air was warm with a slight nip, and the streets were blissfully empty. Beautiful stone homes were decorated with sweet pastel shutters and all arond us were lush, rolling hills.

Our hosts at La Fargo were Christophe and Dominique, a friendly, food-loving couple who both possess a similar calming quality. Since their inn is located in one of France's most important wine producing regions, we looked to them for help with the long list of local offerings. I remember loving the glass of champagne we started with on our first night, and the half bottle of red with a hint of spice that followed. Had I been a better blogger, I would have remembered to write down all the names.

But I was too busy relaxing on their pretty pebble-covered terrace where the sun never set until around 10pm every night.

Dinners began with an interesting amuse-bouche: a chilly shot of pea soup spiced with curry one night and toast points with a homemade tapenade the next. The flavors were vibrant and fresh and many of the ingredients came straight from Dominique and Christophe's gardens.

All of the food at La Fargo was excellent, but if I had to choose one dish that stood out the most, it'd be a smoked salmon appetizer that came with two small scoops of wasabi ice cream.

A pretty shade of celadon, it was velvety smooth and perfect both on its own and as a complement to the savory dish.

Daniel's La Fargo favorite was a foie gras first course. Served on a slab of black slate, and sprinkled with sea salt and pink peppercorns, it was the type of dish that begged for a photo.

The pieces were thick and buttery, and they practically melted on pieces of Poilâne toast.

Somehow with such heavy meals, we still managed to squeeze in a cheese course on both nights, followed by luscious, homemade desserts. My favorite was a dense chocolate cake topped with ice cream and a golden caramel sauce.

Normally I find all-chocolate desserts overwhelming. This was the first one that did it just right. The cake was moist and sweet without being unbearably rich, and the caramel sauce and chocolate ice cream spruced it up, without overpowering the entire dish.

It was hard to be hungry in the morning after such filling meals, and for once I was happy that breakfast was a simple affair with cafe au laits, orange juice, a basket of toasted bread, and homemade fruit spreads. I expected to like the one with kiwi the best, but found it too tart and tangy and couldn't stop sopping up the sweeter spread: a syrupy concoction that was full of fresh figs.

We stayed in the Cerisier room, a true bargain at just 64 euros. A simple space with beige concrete floors and an unusually large shower, it was filled with furniture that Christophe and Dominique bought during trips to Bali. Another nice feature was the private entrance to a grassy area decorated with odd-shaped chairs. Once we figured out how exactly to sit in them, they were the perfect place to nap after exploring nearby medieval ruins.

We easily could have stayed a few more days at La Fargo, eating all the good, gourmet food and exploring the winding roads and sweet surrounding towns. But Collioure, our next stop was waiting. Come back soon and I'll tell you all about that!

La Fargo
11220 Saint-Pierre-des-Champs
Tel: 04 68 43 12 78
Email: lafargo@club-internet.fr

This Little Piglet turns 1

A year ago today, I published my very first post. 79 entries later and This Little Piglet is still pushing me to preserve my most memorable food experiences, not only for my small, but devoted community of readers, but for myself as well. Thanks to this little food blog, I now know I'll never forget that bowl of seafood stew I had in Yachats, Oregon last summer or my very first slice of pizza at Di Fara. And I think that's pretty cool.

To celebrate one year of This Little Piglet, I'm going to steal an idea from Luisa, one of my favorite food bloggers. On the one year anniversary of her blog, she asked all her readers to post a comment. Today, I'm asking all of you to do the same.

Whether you're my friend, a relative, or someone who just pops by every now and then, I'd love to hear from you. You don't have to write much -- even a quick hello will do. Take it from me: There is nothing better than getting feedback on your posts. Whether it's advice on how to liven up a recipe, or a recommendation for a place to try or even a virtual pat on the back for a post well done, it's that sharing of ideas and similar appreciation for food that makes this blogging thing so worthwhile.

Plus, I can't help but be curious about all of you. What is is that you like about This Little Piglet and what makes you keep coming back? And for those of you who regularly comment, I just wanted to take this opportunity to say thanks. There are many days when I don't have the energy (or time) to write another post, but your kind words and encouragement keep me typing.

Here's to another year full of homemade bread, grandma's crumb cake, pink peppercorn ice cream, Brazilian barbecues, food-filled trips, and much, much more.

Rediscovering Paris

I’ve been told I have a very good memory. Some might even say it’s borderline freakish. Sure, important dates in history are a little foggy, but meals I’ve eaten long ago, or the name of my Mom’s friend’s son’s girlfriend, or even a celebrity’s entire life story? That stuff just sticks in my head somewhere, ready whenever I need it.

When Daniel and I arrived in Paris, I thought I'd remember everything about the city. I’d lived there for nine months and expected to still know it inside out.

The one thing that felt the most familiar? The metro. Just as I remembered, the Concorde station is still unusually charming with its arched ceiling and surprisingly clean white and blue tiles. And just like nine years ago, I still got giddy when one of those newer blue trains approached. I even found my way to the bar where I'd watched France beat Brazil in the 1998 World Cup.

What I didn’t remember was how long I had to walk on Rue Bonaparte before reaching the second apartment I lived in, and it took me a few wrong turns before finding my host family’s home in the 17^th.

I also didn’t remember how pristine the city is. As we walked around all my old favorite neighborhoods, I was drawn to the beautiful buildings with their wrought-iron balconies and lush window boxes overflowing with red geraniums.

And when we rode the metro to my friend Emily’s apartment in the 16^th, I was in awe as we passed the Eiffel Tower, its stature almost surreal, perhaps because I’d never seen it from that exact view. The whole city looked almost too perfect and each monument was like an oversized figurine on a big, beautiful boardgame. It was as if I was seeing everything again for the very first time.

I had a rediscovery in terms of food as well, although truth be told, it was more of a discovery. As I’ve explained before, I was kind of afraid of food when I first moved to Paris. I think I ate one pain au chocolat the entire time I was there. On this trip, I averaged two per day.

Most mornings, Daniel and I walked to the boulangerie on the corner and I used my French (which was frustratingly flecked with Portuguese), to pick up some croissants, a baguette and a selection of sweets.

Back in the apartment we rented (a place I highly recommend to anyone looking for a truly Parisian experience), we covered a tiny bistro table with a basket of breads, an assortment of cheese, café au lait in bowls and pâté and fresh ham from the boucherie.

I'd spent nine months stupidly avoiding all this good stuff while living in Paris. Making up for lost time was a must.

Hard to believe I was once a picky eater, huh? Well, it's true.

On the night we visited my French family, the oldest son Luc proudly held up the chicken he was preparing for dinner. Agathe, my host sister assured me we’d be starting the meal with a homemade quiche (and ending with tarte tatin!). Their parents were in Burgundy for the week, so they called to say hello before we sat down to eat.

Their mother explained in her militant French – each word is delivered precisely, fully annunciated and in quick little jabs – that her children had asked what I liked to eat. Her response? “Lia only eats chicken and quiche.”

Almost 10 years had passed and my host mother still remembered how finicky I'd been about food. Then again, it probably wasn’t hard to forget. She struggled a lot those four months trying to come up with different meals to satisfy me, her husband and four grown children. I made sure to mention that these days, thanks to her, I'm a much more adventurous eater. She seemed very pleased.

The rest of our time in Paris felt like life in New York. There were friends to see and not nearly enough time to do everything we wanted. But the main focus of this trip was food and we certainly had plenty of that.

Instead of spending hours online trying to find the best places to eat, I printed a couple of lists from my favorite bloggers and as expected, none of them led me astray.

Thanks to David Lebovitz, Daniel and I had our first dinner at Thoumieux, lured by the promise of a very good cassoulet. We started with a salad topped with warm, saucer sized pieces of goat cheese and a plate of escargot, both of which were rich and buttery, but it’s that cassoulet, a stewy mix of sausage, white beans and duck that I’ll remember forever.

When we met our friends Emily, Gigi and Felix for dinner one night, I suggested Restaurant Astier, which Molly perfectly described as a “lovely, intimate bistro.” I was also curious about what she called a “stellar cheese course.” True to her word, Astier was a charming spot with a three-course, 29-euro menu. To anyone who plans on visiting, here’s some advice.

When the cheese course -- a tray that is plopped on your table toward the end of the meal -- arrives, take big hunks of everything because just minutes later, it’ll be whisked away.

During a walk to the Marais on our last day, Daniel and I stopped off at La Tartine, a place that specializes in France’s delicious open-faced sandwiches. Unlike American ones that are full of so much stuff, these French-style bruschetta focus on just a few ingredients.

We ordered one with thick slices of fatty duck and another with chunks of Camembert, my favorite French cheese. Sipping cold glasses of white wine, and taking crackly, crunchy bites, we relaxed while watching Parisians whiz past. It was one of those vacation moments when you just want to press pause and let the feeling last forever. But soon, Jewish pastries called and off we went to Sacha Finkelsztajn, a sunny bakery where we split a thick slice of cheesecake that was surprisingly light.

Other snacks in Paris included some of my old favorites. Pots of plain yogurt mixed with a sprinkling of sugar. I used to buy multi-packs of these (the Velouté brand is the best) when I lived in Paris and it’s still the perfect afternoon snack or light dessert.

Another day, I introduced Daniel to Berthillon, the popular ice cream shop where people line up for small, golf-ball sized scoops of the creamiest ice cream (the salted caramel flavor was the best, but gingerbread, rhubarb and fresh mint were good too), and one rainy day, we ducked into a creperie in St. Michel and split a bechamel and mushroom crepe, followed by a sweet one with butter, sugar and a squeeze of lemon.

We didn’t make it to Musée D’Orsay, the museum I used to spend hours in as a student studying Degas and Matisse, or Cosi, the small sandwich shop with the best bread that my friends and I used to eat lunch at every day. And yes, for those of you familiar with the name, it's actually the place that inspired this American sandwich chain. I never got to try the butter cookies at Poîlane that everyone tells me are so amazing or the fancy confections at Pierre Hermé.

The French countryside and gourmet food at La Fargo were waiting. Come back in a few days and I’ll tell you all about that.

Where we stayed:

Paris Swell Apartment

Where we ate:

Thoumieux
79, rue St. Dominique
Tel: 01 47 05 49 75
Métro: Invalides or La Tour-Maubourg

Restaurant Astier
44, rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud
Tel: 01 43 57 16 35
Métro: Oberkampf

La Tartine
24, rue de Rivoli
Tel: 01 42 72 76 85
Métro: Hôtel de Ville

Sacha Finkelsztajn
27, rue des Rosiers
Tel: 01 42 72 78 91
Métro: St. Paul

Berthillon Glacier
31, rue St-Louis-en-l'Ile
Tel: 01 43 54 31 61
Métro: Pont-Marie

I'm back (and the best pancakes ever)

I've been a bad blogger. I got home from Europe last week and only now am I putting up my first post. It's not as if I have a shortage of stories to share and I certainly have more than enough pictures (we took over 600). It's just that I moved into my new apartment on May 11th, left on the 17th and now that I'm back, we've been busy unpacking, installing doorknobs (and light fixtures and curtains), and taking a lot of trips to Target and The Container Store. Soon, very soon, we'll be nice and settled and then I'll really be back.

As a little preview of what's to come, I'll say that El Bulli was extraordinary. Out of this world. Better than I expected. I also promise to tell you about the pastries we ate in Paris, the gourmet food at a charming country inn in southeastern France that made me feel so far away from my frenetic New York life (until I found out that the owner is related to Florent Morellet from the popular 24-hour diner, Florent), and a visit to Girona, Spain for more extreme cuisine at an El Bulliesque restaurant.

I'm not sure when exactly I'll be able to start writing. Maybe in just a few more days?

Until then, I'll leave you with this recommendation. When Saturday rolls around, wake up early and make yourself a batch of what I believe are the best pancakes ever. Thanks to Luisa, I discovered these back in November. They couldn't have come at a better time since I had half a bag of fresh cranberries I needed to use up.

For Daniel's birthday this past Saturday, I made them once again, this time with blueberries. They were just as fluffy and melt-in-your-mouth good as the first time. A ½ cup of cornmeal makes them crunchier than a traditional flapjack (and a lot less sweet), but they're also completely fool-proof. Never have I had such success with a plate of pancakes. Seriously, after plopping the batter in a pan, topping it with blueberries and giving it a quick flip, I ended up with a plate piled high of these fat, fruit-filled disks.

If you happen to have any leftovers, don't even THINK of throwing them out. They taste just as good when reheated in the toaster. I should know. I had a plate for dinner that same night.

Cornmeal-Cranberry Pancakes
Makes about 24 4-inch pancakes
10 tablespoons butter, cut into chunks, plus more for greasing pan
2 cups milk
4 large eggs
2 cups flour
½ cup yellow cornmeal
2 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons baking powder
1 ½ teaspoons salt
1 ¼ cups chopped fresh cranberries
Maple syrup

1. In a saucepan over medium-low heat, heat the butter and milk until the butter melts. Set aside until lukewarm, about 15 minutes. Beat the eggs in a medium bowl. Slowly stir in ½ cup of the warm milk mixture (it cannot be hot, or it will cook the eggs). Pour in the remaining milk mixture and stir to combine. 2. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, cornmeal, 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 well moistened. The batter should be lumpy and will start to bubble. 3. Heat a griddle or skillet over medium-high heat until a few drops of water sprinkled on it sizzle. Lightly grease the pan with butter, then add 3 to 4 tablespoons batter to make a 4-inch pancake. As soon as the batter sets, sprinkle the top with cranberries. Cook until bubbles break on the surface. Flip and cook for another 30 seconds, or until the bottom is lightly browned. Repeat, buttering the pan and adjusting the heat as needed. Serve with maple syrup.