In Which I Attempt to Keep Up My Blog While Starting a Business

Stoneledge Farm began our CSA deliveries this week, which means that summer is essentially here. As usual, week 1 was full of leafy greens, and also a helping of rhubarb. It all feels very familiar and comforting.

But something IS different this year: I am in the process of starting a business, the Astoria Bookshop (scheduled to open in mid-August). Which means that I have considerably less time to spend in the kitchen, but also considerably more reason to appreciate the fresh and very cheap produce that I’ve come to love. For the time being, life as an entrepreneur is awfully busy but in a somewhat flexible way. Since the store isn’t yet open for business, I can choose to go to a networking event at a karaoke bar on Friday afternoon, and then spend a Saturday afternoon baking a tart before heading out to look at a table someone is selling on Craigslist.

About that tart: like I said, we got rhubarb this week. We never get very MUCH rhubarb from the farm, but one advantage of being a Core Group member–and also helping clean up at the end of our distribution period–is that you can sometimes snag extras of things that you especially like. So I managed to get enough rhubarb to bake a pie. Then I grabbed a couple of pints of strawberries from one of the produce carts in the neighborhood (their stuff is usually slightly overripe, but/and it’s also incredibly cheap). And then I looked for a solid recipe.

It turns out that strawberry-rhubarb pie is so pedestrian that none of my contemporary cookbooks bother to include a recipe. Luckily, I have a my grandmother’s 70-year-old copy of The Joy of Cooking to fall back on.

I started with my sister’s (not technically) patented instant pie crust recipe, using coconut oil instead of olive oil. It’s stupidly simple–mix flour, salt, a little sugar, oil, and water together with a fork, and press it into a pan with your hands.

Then, two small bundles of rhubarb + 1 pint of strawberries, mixed with sugar, flour, cornstarch, lemon juice, and cinnamon. Pour it in the crust:

Bake at 450F for 10 minutes, then at 350F for another half an hour.

The lesson of the day is that 4 generous cups of fruit is maybe a little much for a shallow 9″ tart pan. But I was smart enough to put a baking sheet underneath, so the fruit juices that overflowed are not crusted on the bottom of my oven. AND I now have a freshly made strawberry-rhubarb pie to enjoy. Hallelujah! Summer may now begin.

First Lady of Pie (or, First Pie of the Lady)

This was not my best pie ever, which is not to say that it was not enjoyed thoroughly.

But see, it was the Friday before my first CSA delivery, and I was antsy for all things fresh, local, and seasonal. And there were these gorgeous strawberries and these huge bundles of rhubarb for sale at one of my favorite greenmarket stands. And so what if a nasty, early heat wave had only just broken and it was maybe warmer in my kitchen than you might want for rolling out pie crust? When pie beckons, you just have to answer. So I pulled out my trusty, only slightly altered Martha Stewart pâte brisée recipe (with 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour and 1 cup whole wheat), and my gorgeous French rolling pin, and the damn thing just wouldn't cooperate. Even after sitting in the fridge for a good two hours, it was just too soft to roll properly. So I smooshed it together where it ripped, and patched it up with the scraps, and made a semblance of a lattice, and said no one would ever know the difference. Or at least, no one who was sharing the pie with me would say it out loud.

Speaking of people who were sharing the pie, while I was fighting with the crust, I had C. chopping up rhubarb

and hulling strawberries

which we tossed together with a little lemon juice, some cardamom, a lot of sugar, and quite a bit of flour. I neglected to add any cornstarch, which was probably my second mistake. 

But in any case, into the oven it went, with a little milk brushed on the lattice & some sugar sprinkled on top. We munched on the last of the crust scraps, dipped in cinnamon sugar, which is how we do it in this house. And about 40 minutes later, we had this come out of the oven:

The flavor, I concede, was fantastic, because it's really hard to screw up a strawberry-rhubarb combo. But even after being IMPOSSIBLY patient and letting the damn thing cool for a half an hour before cutting the first slice, it was still very, very runny. 

Ah, well, better luck next time, with apricots. Or peaches? What comes first?

Getting My Stride Back

And it was summer. Warm, beautiful summer.

Well, not officially yet. And actually today is kind of cool. But to my mind, the start of my CSA deliveries means the start of summer, and it was so horrifically hot all last week that you’d have been forgiven for thinking you’d dozed off and slept straight through to August. I was almost nostalgic for the endless rainy spring that was last June. Almost.

In any case, the sticky, humid, feel-like-you’re-inside-a-dog’s-mouth weather has put me in the mood for light summer fare, even now that it’s cool and breezy (and very nearly chilly today).  So last night I took stock of my fridge and this is what I came up with, inspired by the Strawberry-Arugula Salad with Ricotta Topping recipe from The Kitchn (Apartment Therapy’s food-centric blog).

I didn’t think arugula and strawberries alone constituted dinner, but it seemed like they might go well with some orzo. And I like almonds, but I don’t always like that super-crunchy texture in something like this, so I went with walnuts instead. And made the crucial addition of some ground pink peppercorns (especially crucial because I didn’t grate enough nutmeg).

So first, you put on a pot of water to boil for the pasta. Then mix some lemon juice and zest with the ricotta.

And some more lemon zest with the strawberries, chopped nuts, a little salt, and the nutmeg & pepper. (White pepper would probably be good, too. I wouldn’t do black, personally, but that’s me.)

Then, once the pasta is cooked (in heavily salted water–Batali’s not kidding when he says it should be as salty as the Mediterranean), scoop out a cup or so of the pasta water and then drain.  Mix as much of the water into the ricotta as you like (I think I used 1/3 cup for what was maybe 1 1/3 cup of ricotta) and then toss everything together.

Before tossing:

And after:

Orzo with arugula, strawberries, and ricotta
Serves 4, ish

1 lb. orzo
1 pint strawberries
1 bunch arugula (~3 oz.)
1 cup ricotta (I had a bit more on hand, so I just finished it off)
1/4 cup walnuts, toasted (I didn’t bother, but it would be nice)
1 lemon
nutmeg
pink peppercorns
salt

Put on a pot of water for the pasta.
Meanwhile, slice up the strawberries and chop up the walnuts. Zest the lemon and mix half into the strawberries, and the other half into the ricotta, with the lemon juice.  Add to the strawberries a bit of salt, some fresh grated nutmeg, ground peppercorn, and the walnuts.  Let it sit while your pasta cooks in very salted water.
Reserve a cup of the pasta water and then drain, and run it under cold water for a second or two.  Mix some of the water into the ricotta/lemon, and then add in the pasta, and the strawberries.  Mix it all together, check the seasoning, and you’re done.