Don't put that in your mouth, you don't know where it's been

Here it is, the last day of the 2010 Eat Local Challenge and I'm feeling a little guilty for not writing anything about it till now. I am inclined to take this annual nine-day challenge pretty seriously - it's my competitive nature, I guess.

In 2007 I was a true purist, sticking strictly to a hundred-mile limit for every ingredient. By the time the week was over I had learned much about what is and isn't produced in our region, and how hard can be to find out where a food comes from due to a lack of interest or (worse) deliberate obfuscation on the part of certain retailers.

In 2008 I volunteered to keep an Eat Local blog for the Mail Tribune (not Foodlandia; this was a different one on the MT site just for that week and since deleted from the archives), again keeping my promise to eat exclusively local despite a debilitating caffeine withdrawal headache (no joke; it was dismal) and the privations of no olive oil, salt, or vinegar. That year also brought two sets of houseguests during the week, so we had big barbecues and Britt picnics to raise the difficulty level. It was also the year I learned to make my own feta and mozzarella through the fantastic cheese-making class at Pholia goat farm in Rogue River.

Last year I had begun this blog, and I wrote a post on it explaining my newly personalized rules and exceptions for my very own version of Eat Local 2009. The radius for the official Thrive event had been extended to 200 miles, which was great because now I could get fish and even salt, but one of the critical eating local lessons I'd already learned was about me - that I'm not all that willing to give up coffee, olive oil, lemons, salt, or vinegar. But I also knew that with a few allowances, a locavore can do very well in the Rogue Valley in September. And again it was a good experience.

But why do it again for a fourth year? Because attitudes are changing and (hallelujah!) interest in local food sources is growing. That means that foods are being grown here that were not available last year. And also because it gives me an immediate reason to try new ways of using local products.

And so now here we are at the end of the week. What's new? Well, grains, mostly. The biggest discovery, thanks to my friend Sara, is Dunbar Farms. Who would have thought that someone was growing wheat and making flour with it right here in my own neighborhood? David Mostue is running Dunbar Farms on the land first planted with pear orchards by his great-great-uncle at the turn of the last century. The place is named after David's grandfather Dunbar Carpenter, a great Medford philanthropist as well as orchardist (and Harvard graduate in economics). David is experimenting with traditional farming methods and a variety of crops. The family business includes a winery as well, and I wish them the best with all of it. If you want to buy David's produce (in-season vegetables of various kinds, eggs, flour, sometimes bread made with the flour, and wine) you need to get on his email list to place weekly orders for Friday pickup. I heard that he has also just begun to sell at the Growers Market but unfortunately my job keeps me from getting there on Thursday mornings to check it out.

A few days ago the Mail Tribune ran this intriguing article about a local grower of amaranth and other ancient grains. I searched unsuccessfully for Hi Hoe grains on my next trip to the co-op; later when I reread the article more carefully I saw that they were out of stock for the year. The new crop will be in stores later this fall. While I was looking, though, I noticed that Bob's Red Mill up in Milwaukee Oregon is now selling one pound bags of teff, another ancient grain; I sense that some injera experimentation is in my near future.

So here is a photo of my favorite local dinner this week. The colors actually look a little gruesome - that's what I get for using a flash instead of natural light - so you'll just have to trust me that in person the dish is most appetizing. It's eggs poached in the leftover juice and olive oil from a batch of pomodori al forno, served on a mound of sauteed collard greens, served with soft goat cheese spread on toasted slices of bread I made using Dunbar Farms flour. All local except the olive oil, and almost all from our own back yard.


And for dessert: peach cobbler made with peaches from the farmer's market and back yard raspberries, sweetened with a little Rogue Valley honey, and Dunbar pastry flour in the topping. Except for the baking powder, all local.

By the way, our hens celebrated Eat Local week by laying their very first eggs. Here is Helia's first effort. Isn't it beautiful? (thank you, Helia!)

Hey Eugene

Last weekend Alekka and I loaded our faithful pooch Bailey into the car for a quick trip up to Eugene in search of non-Medford back-to-school shopping, and to pay a visit to Alice. Alice has lived in Eugene for eight years now and I've been wanting to spend time with her on her home turf.

With Bailey comfortably ensconced in Alice's backyard, the humans headed out to Valley River Center for a full-on fashion fling at Forever 21, with me and Alice performing the all-important hanger-holding and opinion-offering functions. There is nothing quite like an afternoon of watching a middle-schooler questing for black and white vertical stripe pants to work up an appetite.

Alice has been wanting to try out a place called Belly that opened across from Fifth Street Market in the fall of 2008. She forwarded an article to me that included an interview with the chef/owners in which they expressed their commitment to the "snout to tail" philosophy, something that interests us both. There are a few restaurants like this in Portland, but Belly is the closest to home that I've heard about.

Alice tried to make a reservation but learned they only do that for parties of 4 or more, so we just headed over there when we'd had enough of the mall. By the time we arrived at about 8:00, the dinner rush was over and we got the last indoor table with no waiting. There were a few tables outside but I hadn't thought to bring a jacket; another time it would be nice to sit there (but beware, the train tracks run right next to the building and that train is LOUD when it comes through).

The menu, which changes monthly, is divided into appetizers, salads, small entrees, and larger entrees, with a separate dessert menu. Alice and I were somewhat disappointed (Alekka less so) to find little evidence of the snout-to-tail concept. There was a duck liver paté in the starters, chorizo with clams, and a house-made boudin blanc in the mains, but that was the extent of the innards. Perhaps "specialty meats" turned out not to be not so much a Eugene thing. However, the menu choices were varied and intriguing.

We started with two appetizers to share: duck liver and Madeira paté (served with dry-bread crackers, cornichons, bright green Castelvetrano olives, and pickled onion) and bacon-wrapped fresh figs with apple cider gastrique, toasted hazelnuts and a bit of radicchio. I have to admit that I have never met a duck liver paté I didn't like (with one notable exception, but that was due to morning sickness and not the paté itself, which under normal circumstances would undoubtedly have been delicious; unfortunately it ruined my interest in paté for duration of that particular visit to Paris). Belly's paté was smooth and rich. The figs were likewise more than satisfactory - warm, sweet, smoky, and salty, with a sauce that tasted like apple honey. Alekka was not excited about our appetizer selections but she did enjoy a few crackers and olives.

The relatively pedestrian salad offerings didn't spark any interest so next up were entrees. Alice and I had already ordered a bottle of white wine to share so although the Tunisian lamb stew with eggplant, harissa and herbed farro sounded wonderful I opted instead for halibut quenelles with crayfish sauce. This turned out to be the French classic quenelles de brochet with sauce Nantua except that here the brochet (pike) was replaced with more local halibut. The quenelles were light and the sauce was rich and creamy, just as they should be.

Alice chose pan-roasted Chinook salmon with sautéed cabbage, bacon and corn with a brown-butter sauce. Alice was a little surprised to find that the salmon (which she pronounced done to perfection) was served atop a mound of mashed potatoes instead of rice, but she enjoyed the two together with the browned butter. The vegetable accompaniment was also noteworthy.

For her entree, Alekka selected duck leg confit with red quinoa and fried green apple. Alekka adores duck breast the way we make it at home: rare with a crispy brown skin. I was worried that this dish might be too well cooked to meet her expectations and I tried to steer her toward a more familiar skirt steak with onion rings, but she was undeterred. Turns out I was wrong: she loved the duck, which was topped with a fatty lid of crispy skin and fried apple wedges. There was a lot of quinoa, which Alice and I were happy to finish off for her.

The portions are not huge, but generous enough that I couldn't consider dessert. Alice and Alekka were both up for a little more, though, so I got to try a bite of each of theirs. Our enthusiastic and informed waiter recommended the ice cream sandwich made with banana ice cream and sugar cookies, with the edges rolled in chopped bacon and served with caramel sauce. Alice went for that one. Alekka chose a triple-chocolate tart. Both were excellent, although the I think the ice cream sandwich would have been improved with slightly softer cookies. The tart didn't look very chocolaty when it arrived, but it turned out that beneath the light color on top the interior was dense and dark and very satisfying.

I have to say, the bacon trope is getting a little tired. I am pretty sure that not everything is better with bacon ( some of you will remember a similar thing going on with garlic in the 80s - chocolate dipped garlic cloves are not actually a very good idea, and yes, I did eat those at an upscale restaurant on our honeymoon in 1986) . But although we had bacon in our appetizer and one of the entree sides as well as in a dessert, it was a welcome addition every time. I guess you have to expect a bit of bacon in a restaurant with this logo.

The next morning we set out in search of some local color, and coffee. Alice recommended the Wandering Goat, located on the edge of the Whiteaker neighborhood. Dog-friendly coffeehouse by day, indie punk band venue by night, this place was perfect for the latte (with artistic foam, even!), mocha, and hot chocolate we needed to start the day - not to mention excellent people-watching. The Wandering Goat gets points for serving their 16 ounce hot drinks in heavy oversized breakfast cups instead of disposable paper to-go cups. They also sell organic bagels and pastries, many of them vegan, which are made on the premises.

Afterwards we took a walk around the Whiteaker. If I were to move to Eugene, this is where I would want to be. We weren't hungry yet but Alice highly recommends Sweet Life Patisserie for its rich and elegant pastries.

Our next stop was downtown, which is looking a little livelier after a post-mall slump in the 90s and early 2000s. A recent addition is an outpost of Voodoo Donuts, a Portland favorite that (speaking of the bacon thing) I've written bout before. Alice reports that in the first days after their Eugene opening, the line reached down the block and the store sold out of donuts within just a couple of hours. Now things have settled down a bit and we had only to wait a few minutes for our Old-fashioned (me), Jelly-filled (Alice), and Bubblegum (Alekka)(yuck).

A visit to Eugene is not complete without a stop at Trader Joe's. My list of TJ essentials has gotten shorter with time, but two-buck Chuck is still a good deal (even though it's three bucks in Oregon). And there are also those (rather disgusting, IMHO) Gummy-Tummy Penguins that Nik likes to abuse. That should give him something to look forward to after his month in Greece. The poor child. More on that later.

By the way, these are the pants - not to be found anywhere in Eugene.