Hunt it, Grow it, Cook it

I truly believe the best ideas are hatched at cocktail parties (or maybe just over cocktails).  But  an idea was born. Brad’s an outdoorsman, his wife Alexandra (Ali) is an expert and prolific gardener, Daniel is a professional chef, and me – well, I do dishes and love to eat! Hence, we decided to combine our talents and appetites to develop a menu, because we are lucky enough to live where it’s possible to truly eat local!

Ali, swooped by our front porch one morning, dropping off venison roast from Brad’s hunting. And from their garden; asparagus, spinach, radishes, red onion, shallot, chive flowers, rhubarb and six farm fresh eggs. It was like the TV show “Chopped,” but thankfully, without a weird ingredient. Daniel was in chef heaven. Our menu was by no means typical or conventional, but it was spectacular!

Garden and venison harvest from Brad and Ali’s homestead (Photo by Vicki Sternfeld-Rossi)

The three-course menu was:

Appetizer

Melon soup garnished with pickled radishes, cucumber gelée, sweet pickled ginger, chive flowers and mint

Entree

Sous Vide and blowtorch-charred venison, with red onion marmalade, spinach spätzle le, fresh steamed asparagus, tossed with tarragon butter.

Dessert

Rhubarb compote, yogurt custard, topped with rhubarb granita

Here is a glimpse at the process:

Venison – Daniel portioned the venison into 3 “logs” along the grain of the meat, which allowed him to slice against the grain for tenderness. Before cooking them, he gave them a dry rub of British sweet spices (think mulled wine), vacuum packed them, and cooked in a water bath for 12 hours at 131 degrees. Before serving, he caramelized the meat with a blowtorch.

SoupFirst, he pickled the radishes, (sweet pickling spices), pickled julienned ginger in simple syrup, then made a cucumber gelée by juicing the cucumber and setting with agar, (acts like gelatin), that chilled in the fridge to set. Next he juiced a melon (cantaloupe).  The cold soup was garnished with chive flowers.

Spätzle – (think tiny dumplings). The spinach was blanched and chopped very fine, then added to a batter (similar consistency to pancake batter), that he made into spätzle by running through the holes in a colander over boiling water, drained and tossed with olive oil.

Dessert – first he made the rhubarb granita, which has to be frozen (it’s a like granular sorbet).

Rhubarb compote, yogurt custard, topped with rhubarb granita. Delectable! (Photo by Vicki Sternfeld-Rossi)

For those who don’t have a professional chef in their kitchen, here are some other suggestions.

Quick pickling is easy – and it is an interesting and fun way to use all the radishes (or carrots) that are ready for harvesting. Added to a sweet type of cold soup like melon, it’s a good way to wake up your taste buds for the meal to come. Or, even more simple, just wash the radishes and eat them (my favorite way).

I love a spinach salad, and with hard boiled farm fresh eggs, and bacon -it’s always a winner. The asparagus is always tasty tossed in butter, and like most Waitsburgundians you have herbs in your garden, an easy addition to elevate fresh asparagus. Chive flowers are a fun kick to add to a salad or vegetable dish, and they’re pretty.

Roast the venison like a roast beef; set the temperature of your oven at 350 and cook about 15 minutes per pound (final result should be pink like a medium rare steak). Asparagus – steam and then toss in a simple mixture of tarragon butter (or another herb you have in your garden).

We learned about hunting and keeping chickens, they learned about cooking, while social distancing!

Palouse Outdoors – The Ebb and Flow

Published in The Waitsburg Times, August 5th 2021

The old cliché phrase “The only thing constant in life is change” was coined by Greek philosopher Heraclitus. This epiphany struck him around 500 B.C. I assume taxes were not a thing at the time, otherwise that little tidbit would likely have been included, as folks like to claim today.

 While Heraclitus was correct, that time is like a flowing river, and you will never step into the same waters twice, there is an ebb and flow to events among the seasons and years – the past approximately 15 months presenting a solid case in point. Coronavirus continues to adapt against human immunity. Extreme heat and drought have struck once again. U.S. Society took another shot at imploding by casting the light off day on racism. Still, life goes on, and these events have calmed slightly.

Life on the homestead may be somewhat sheltered from the bigger picture of society, but notable change remains constant in our little mesocosm. And, because every organism is affected by one another and our environment, this relationship that appears chaotic on the surface works to strike a balance between positive and negative. What that balance looks like and what it means for the future is not always obvious, but tracking changes from year to year is an interesting study, particularly with wildlife – birds, bugs, and blooms being prime examples.

Typically, a handful of rufus hummingbirds visit us each spring and hang around for a week or two until the black chinned hummers swarm in and force them out. This year, however, we only had one rufus drop by and he stayed less than a week. Additionally, we only have a few black chinned hummingbirds, where we typically have more than a dozen. The hatch didn’t seem to go as planned either. Did the smoke and fire last September affect hummingbirds as they migrated south? That could explain fewer birds returning this year.

Continuing with birds, a strange, yet simultaneously familiar cry carried through the alders this spring. A familiar enough sound from the Appalachia of my youth that I didn’t actually give notice until my wife Ali asked if I had heard it – the raspy “mew” of a gray catbird. Catbirds inhabit a large range in the U.S. and southern Canada and are a permanent resident in the eastern hardwoods. Eastern Washington is the western border of their breeding range, and we were lucky enough to have a breeding pair this year.

The gray catbird

What brought the catbirds to our homestead remains a mystery, but likely factors include a combination of thick woody cover and mature trees, green peas being planted around the homestead, and the abundance of yellow grasshoppers that we’ve experienced this year. Broadleaf plants like peas attract insects with their flowers and succulent leaves. Environmental conditions may have been favorable for grasshoppers as well. And what are grasshoppers good for? Bird chicks. Teenage quail and pheasant are beginning to appear in excellent numbers, and the grasshoppers providing forage for rearing broods may have something to do with that this year.

Another exception was the presence of Bullock’s orioles. While one or two orioles always show up on the homestead, they appear transient, offering fleeting glimpses in the yard as they cruise between shrubbery. This year, however, several females remained regularly visible and hatched at least one clutch of chicks. Was it because we have increased berry and fruit-producing plants on the property? Not likely, due to another late April frost wiping out the blossoms from the majority of our fruiting plants. Their presence may tie back to the grasshoppers as an important food source, and the alders towering over the drainage along the property providing nesting habitat.

The Bullock’s oriole – Photo by Kevin Cole

The excitement of increased and varied bird activity was tempered by the extreme June heat. The hottest week of the year coincided with the fledging of many species, taking a toll on fledgling survival. One evening, a sparsely-feathered finch chick struggled to reach a low fork in the crabapple, where it hunkered in the shade behind the trunk. It sat for hours, beak agape, breathing heavily in the 115-degree heat. Many chicks left the nest, helpless to the full sun exposure that week. Nevertheless, a few pulled through and will hopefully return again next year.

Change may be constant and extreme environmental conditions expected on occasion, but when change results in a “new norm”, species – humans included – must adapt and redefine a natural balance. What change did you notice this year? Are we on the forefront of striking a new natural balance with Mother Nature? Only time will tell, but plant flowering records in the Pacific Northwest suggest an earlier bloom trend over the past 100 years. In the meantime, as we adapt to the ebb and flow, I will take a diversity of songbirds warbling around the house as a small consolation.