What Do You Want on Your Pizza?

Even those of us with the best of intentions ("From now on, I will eat nothing but nutritious meals that I make myself with local, organic ingredients!") sometimes find ourselves in the position where a husband invites a buddy over to help him replace the radiator, and take-out pizza with beer seems the only acceptable compensation. More than a couple toppings can be expensive, though, so as you can see I jazzed my slice up with some arugula from my own fridge. Greens don't keep well for more than a week, so may as well use them while the using is good.

Do you ever put your own toppings on take-out pizza? Is this a sensible way to pinch pennies, or would you bother? And if you do it for culinary rather than monetary reasons, what is your favorite topping that run-of-the-mill pizza joints never seem to have?

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Chickenless Cook of the Week: Jim Victor

Feature returning after a two-week hiatus... I know, my previous one was also a male food artist whose first name is one syllable and whose last name is two syllables ending in an "er" sound. But if you can think of any other reason why Jim Victor of Jim Victor Food Sculpture doesn't deserve the rave review he's about to get, then you are a sick, sick individual.

Above, the artist is pictured with his chocolate Harley-Davidson, created for Nestle USA ChocolateFest 2003 in Burlington, Wisconsin. Here are some more breathtaking creations in that medium: a chocolate dinosaur presented at Liberty Place in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; an entire chocolate-covered Jeep for an event called Sweetest Day the Jeep Way in Cleveland, Ohio in 2007; and a combination chocolate-and-butter sculpture of Milton Hershey and cows for the Pennsylvania State Farm Show in 2004.

But chocolate is only one of the various foods that Jim and his team can rock. Below are models of the Nina, Pinta, and Santa Maria sculpted for a Columbus Day parade in NYC. To quote Jim's website: "Ships made of Parmesan cheese, pizza dough for sails, roasted red peppers for the crosses, spaghetti for the rigging, and spinach lasagna for the sea." Playing back stories of Columbus's voyage in my mind, I can only imagine how his half-starved crews might have reacted to that description.

And if cheddar cheese is what floats your boat (har har), check out "Kids and Calves," presented at the Nebraska State Fair in 2008:

These are just a few of the pictures I'm using with permission from Jim's professional site. He will be updating within the next few weeks, so be sure to go check it out! For now, I salute you adieu along with this soldier from the butter sculpture "A Soldier's Family":

Have a great weekend, all!

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Witnessing the Final Days of Organic Farms?

And here I thought my blog wasn't big enough to get noticed! The lovely people of Costco must have seen my post about being up shit creek financially. This exclusive invite arrived in the mail today. Wow, "Join Costco as an executive member by Nov. 29, 2009, and receive a $20 Costco cash card." Well, okay, Costco, but don't expect a shining review of your grocery section just because you buttered me up with a "special offer."

Last night my husband and I had another one of those touchy discussions about our finances that makes me cry. We decided we could swing one more month at the house if we make some serious budget cutbacks. Even if I don't have a sufficient workload by then (for those of you who don't know, I'm a freelance writer, so my income is subject to fluctuation), at least we will be more prepared for a move and it will be on more comfortable terms.

So what do budget cutbacks mean? Well, for starters, strict organic dieting will be out of the question for awhile. I find it sad that, in this country at least, the organic food movement is considered a luxurious lifestyle choice. I understand that organic farms lose more of their crops to pests, which drives up the price. However, I can't help but think it's also a result of demand in the wealthier classes. In general, people who have money to spend go to Whole Foods; people who don't go to Costco. And they're happy that way. When I go to "review" the grocery section at Costco, chances are I'll be the only customer even looking for organic fruits and vegetables.

When did treating one's body right become a trend among the well-off? Before there was such a thing as government certification programs, organic food was the cheapest of all. It was the food that you grew yourself, or that your neighbors grew and sold to a local market. It wasn't a trend, it was a way of life. All the fancy restaurants served exotic dishes. If you wanted something grown far away, you had to pay dearly for it. Isn't that how it should be? What's changed?

What's changed is that the world has gotten bigger. And now that the world is big- anyone at all curious about what foie gras is can do a Google search and yield over 3 million results- the trendsetting folks at the top of the financial pyramid, those with the time and inclination to pursue food as hobby, are experiencing their typical ennui. "What happened to those simple times?" they ask. "What happened to fresh apples plucked right from the tree in your backyard? What happened to those adorable old men with grubby hands and suspenders selling watermelons off the backs of their trucks in summer?" And so all that stuff is coming back, but not the way it used to be. This time, it's expensive. This time, because the world is big, organic organizations think they ought to sell big. In other words, the ultimate goal is to go wholesale-same as any other farm.

For now, it seems like a good business decision on their part, despite the fact that running a commercial organic farm is costlier than running a commercial farm that dumps pesticides all over everything and calls it a day. Organic farmers have to pay more attention to which crops they grow and when; employ creative pest solutions; and understand that, no matter what, they will lose a greater percentage of crops than conventional farms. It's natural that they should charge a little more, and because the trend among the wealthy is leaning that way, it's an investment many farmers are willing to make.

In his The Collapse of Complex Societies, Joseph Tainter asserts that the bigger an organization gets, the more it has at stake and the more likely it is to fail. I find this interesting because we as working Westerners (many of you reading this are monetizing bloggers, which means you are entrepreneurial Westerners to boot) tend to believe there are nothing but benefits when it comes to expansion. I'll be the first to admit that I started this blog hoping to grow my readership over time. Not necessarily for money purposes, but because... well, how else are you going to know you do a good job? So the focus was not merely on sustainability, but on growth; and that's the way it is for plenty of folks. Our entire economy here in the States and in many other Western countries focuses on growth. If you don't have growth, you're nothin.'

So what are some of the drawbacks to non-local sale of organic produce? Well, for starters, if you're shipping in bulk, you're going against organic principles by using a ton of gasoline. Already the trend is starting to shift from "just organic" to "local and organic" as those consumers who can afford to be picky become more aware of this hypocrisy. And the ones who can't afford it, as we already mentioned, tend not to even be interested in affording it. They think, "That organic stuff is just for rich snobs. I'll take my Bubba burgers and Bud Light any day, thank you." Obviously I am generalizing here, but if you think it's an untrue generalization, ask around in a low-income neighborhood. There's a sense of pride that comes with being able to score food cheap, to rough it while the "snobs" eat organic with their pinkies in the air.

So where does that leave large organic farms? Nowhere. Once the "just organic" trend passes among the upper classes, they're toast without a local customer base. Bankrupt. Kaputt.

Solution? If organic farming is your passion, buy a small plot of land. Maybe even suburban or urban land. Grow as much as you can using as little space as possible. If you already have a big, complicated commercial farm, sell it now. Focus on sustainability. Offer your product locally. Sell at flea markets and farmers' markets. Do CSAs. Barter with your neighbors. Subsist on your own crops and the ones you trade for on a local level. Instead of feeding into the societal delusion that we've traveled back to a time when old men with grubby hands and suspenders sold watermelons off the backs of their trucks, become the real thing. Take that plunge. Will you get rich? No. But according to Tainter, getting rich is just making it more complicated for yourself. You'll have further to fall: more land and more customers equals more loans to repay, more shipping costs to cover, more orders to screw up, more equipment to break, more staff to compensate, more pests to kill, more at stake if your crops fail, more at stake if the trend you've chosen to capitalize on passes, more migraines... to quote a popular permaculturist slogan, "work makes work." The more complicated you make it for yourself, the worse off you will be in the long run.

I look forward to hearing all your thoughts on this. I've touched on some controversial politics here, so if you don't want to leave a public comment, feel free to write dontbeawuss@gmail.com. As always, thanks so much for visiting!

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Which of These Cookies Is Not Like the Other?

That's right, it's the second one from the left in the top row. If you've ever made cookies at five in the morning so your husband could take some for lunch (while the coffee was still brewing and about fifteen minutes off from being in your belly), you may just understand how such screw-ups can happen.

Here's what the instruction read: "Bake until just set and beginning to crack... rotating the baking sheet halfway through baking."

Here's what my groggy brain read: "Bake until just set and beginning to crack... rotating halfway through baking."

I was like, "What? Okay, well, you're the boss, cookbook." But then I did one and thought to myself, "Uh... that doesn't look right." So I went back and read it again. Sure enough, no cookie-flipping involved... What the hell, groggy brain? Next time coffee will be my top priority.

If you read my posts often, you know that I invent my own recipes almost every day. But I also use cookbooks from time to time. I am still learning the chemistry of what makes a cookie dough different from a cake batter different from a quick bread different from... well, inadvertent quick bread pudding.

This morning's recipe for Upside-Down-No-Wait-Right-Side-Up Peanut Butter Cookies is adapted from the one for Peanut Blossom Cookies on page 180 of America's Best Lost Recipes: 121 Kitchen-Tested Heirloom Recipes Too Good to Forget.

The collection, from the editors of Cook's Country Magazine, focuses on vintage recipes that have been passed down through generations of cooks and bakers. I geek out over vintage stuff (clothes, boats, luggage, furniture... you name it), so I was thrilled when a casual acquaintance showed me the book, and even more thrilled when she said I could keep it. Thanks again, Helena, wherever you are!

Peanut Blossom Cookies are supposed to have Hershey's kisses on them as in the picture below, but I just used what I had... after all, five in the morning is no ideal time to shop unless you're willing to break a window and leave the grocer an IOU. Other changes include a slight peanut butter reduction and substitution of light brown sugar for dark brown sugar, neither of which I would recommend if you have the original ingredients on hand. I was also so pressed for time that I didn't process the peanuts with the flour the way it said to do. No opinion on that one... I like the whole peanuts, but then again I've never had it the other way, so who knows? And of course, being the salt fiend that I am when it comes to cookies, I swapped half the unsalted butter for salted. This I will always, always recommend for any baked good under the sun.

Upside-Down-No-Wait-Right-Side-Up-Peanut-Butter-Cookies

Ingredients

2 3/4 c. flour

1/2 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. baking soda

1/2 tsp. baking powder

2 sticks butter (1 salted and 1 unsalted), softened

3/4 c. well-packed brown sugar

3/4 c. granulated sugar

2/3 c. peanut butter

2 large eggs

2 tsp. vanilla extract

1 c. roasted salted peanuts

Directions

Drink your coffee!!!!!

Preheat the oven to 350. Stir the flour, salt, baking soda, and baking powder together in a large mixing bowl. Add all remaining ingredients except the peanuts and beat with an electric mixer. Stir in the peanuts.

Roll the dough into 1-inch balls and place these 2 inches apart on a baking sheet (the book says to use parchment paper, but they don't stick, so it's a waste of parchment paper in my opinion). Bake 11-13 minutes. Makes 4 dozen small cookies.

The super-sweetest thing about America's Best Lost Recipes is not the recipes themselves, but the stories they use to introduce them. For instance, I didn't realize that the wave of popularity enjoyed by peanut butter cookies with kisses on top resulted from an entry in a recipe contest that ended up losing. The winner was some walnut cookie no one's ever heard of. Do you ever wonder what we'll find important years from now? Which of our recipes will still be around, and which ones will die out?

To fit the theme of the book, I've artificially antiquated all the pics in this post through the magic of iPhoto. Here's an interesting one:

I have no idea who Amanda is. Remember I said that a casual acquaintance gave me this book? Well, when I got it home and opened it, out slipped this card. I assume she'd used it as a bookmark. As previously mentioned, her name is Helena (not Amanda) so I concluded the card had been written from her rather than to her. I meant to give it back, but forgot a couple times, since we didn't each other that often. Now, as far as I know, she lives in Texas. And Amanda never got her card.

The envelope is still sealed. I've never looked inside. And probably never will. Why, I don't know. It's probably just a hella-belated birthday card. My seeing it would just barely, marginally, forgivably violate Helena's and Amanda's privacy. But every time I see that name, hand-scrawled in pencil, it stops me in my tracks. If the name weren't there, it would be different. I would open it in a heartbeat. Because of that name, I'm leaving it for future generations to find. Because of the name, a simple envelope has become a mystery. Maybe one day, as my unborn kid is opening this book, out it will slide. Maybe they'll open it immediately. Maybe they won't. Either way, they'll have a story to go with their recipes.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Arugula Salad With Black-Eyed Peas, Honey Crisp Apples, and Zesty Tomato Dressing

Since I did not make it to the farmers' market over the weekend, I indulged in some non-local goodies at Publix, including the honey crisp apples in this salad. It seems unfair for nature to deny me an iconic food like the apple. But I don't have to scrape ice off my windshield or shovel snow out of my driveway, so let's call it even.

Zesty Tomato Dressing

Ingredients

2 Tbsp. olive oil

1 Tbsp. tomato puree

1 tsp. dijon mustard

1/2 tsp. holly honey

Salt, pepper, and hot sauce to taste

Directions

Combine ingredients and whisk together. Serves 2.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

I Get Pie With a Little Help From My Friends

Did your parents tell you when you were younger that you could be anything you wanted? If so, when did you first realize it wasn't true? That there are only so many rock stars, professional ball players, and Food Network chefs in the world; that some of us have to hold down the fort in middle class? Lower middle class? Poverty?

Until now, it's been a steady downward slope for me. I can't think of a defining moment when I gave up on the idea of being the [whatever], content that there was still dignity in being a [whatever]. But somewhere along the line, it happened. And for awhile I coasted, unaware that sneaky entropy dragged me down below the rank of a [whatever] to the rank of discouraged, scatterbrained hack who but for the Grace of God would be homeless at the end of the month.

When did it happen to you? Did you ever think you were a writer, then somewhere along the line you became a salesperson, and finally a salesperson who doesn't get paid on time but does get her ass verbally kicked by clients on a daily basis? Did you ever, along with your husband, hold a job that required a college degree; only to get kicked out of the house you've been holding onto by a thread because of that one day when your twelve-year-old car bites the dust? You did everything they told you to do. You graduated. You went to work. You did a good job. You were told by employers that you were "fast," "smart," "reliable"... all the good stuff.

And then came the day when everything you'd worked for got yanked out from under you. I know, I know... we're in a recession, and Orlando is worse off than most places. C'est la vie. Boo fucking hoo.

I was just so sure that I could pull it out at the last second. I mean, me, of all people. My parents' pride and joy. The center of my own little universe. How humbling. How viciously humbling.

If this or something similar has happened in your life, I hope you had friends as wonderful as mine. Pork chops and pumpkin pie ice cream from Paul last night. Beatles Rock Band with Tod tonight. Though I will never plant a single measly shrub in the backyard garden I just started, I will not be left out in the rain. Though I will lose my coveted downtown location, I get to keep my wuvling husband, the cootest cat in the world, a supportive family, and a network of friends laced tightly enough to deflect destitution.

Dessert helps me recognize anticlimax. Last night, eating pumpkin pie ice cream in my living room, surrounded by positive presences, I realized all was not lost if I still had sugar. Sugar is a luxury. Generations before mine lived entire lives without tasting it. Members of my own generation have never tasted it. And here I am with a whole boxload in my freezer. What fortune. Well beyond what I deserve for being one of millions "doing a good job." Well beyond what I deserve for being a [whatever].

Desserts have the power to make you feel like a the. And when you feel like a the, what the hell does it matter if your day's been rotten? The end, at least, can be sweet.

Pick yourself up. Pack your bags not for a forced move, but for an adventure. Ride that sugar high to glory.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Home Again!

I promised pictures from Virginia. Above is one of a tractor. You can find more at Doveland Farm. Hint: If you love animals, it's worth taking a peek.

We had a great time and feel indebted to our host, Sandra, who barely made us raise a finger. She housed us, cooked for us, showed us around the area, and even taught us the ancient mystical art of buying stuff at auction and flipping it. We got a 40s era radio and record player for forty bucks and are commissioning our engineer buddy to turn it into an MP3 player. I'll put pictures up when it's done so you can bask in its vintage elegance and get in touch if you're interested... though I'll tell you right now it may challenge my husband to part with it when the time comes.

On to more food-related matters!

Here in FL we have to solarize our soil to keep nematodes from latching onto our veggies' roots and sucking their little veggie lives away. For months I've been meaning to start a small herb patch that wouldn't need such extravagant treatment. On Monday, I finally got around to planting some parsley and chives. Hooray!

I've been reading up on home permaculture, and the number one point every author makes is that nothing will look like you think it should. There are no nice, neat little rows in this type of gardening. If your yard looks like a forest, you're doing it right.

So, am I doing it right? In the picture below, do my parsley and chives look planned, or like they just sprung up?

I know I promised to update you on the mystery project taking place in our yard. All I can tell you is that the site of said project has moved- it will now be located nearer the house. We'll probably get started on that tonight when my husband gets home from work. Exciiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitedddddddddd.

In the meantime, we dug a few beds at the old site of the mystery project. Like my herb garden, there will be no discernible rows, just lots and lots of symbiotic foods growing close together. We are currently solarizing the beds:

Solarization involves turning the earth a bit, then laying sheets of opaque plastic over the exposed soil and weighing it down to keep weeds from creeping in at the edges. As you can see, my husband and I can't afford to visit Home Depot right now, so we cut up garbage bags and weighed them down with everything from scavenged planks to beer bottles. That fence you see in the background? Yup, you'd better believe our neighbors just put it up today. The instant we have enough mature veggies to fill a gift basket, they're getting one on their doorstep. Thanks for not demanding that we clean up our hillbilly mess, neighbors!!

One last update: we're spending this weekend at Green Flamingo. Probably fishing and barbequing, in addition to volunteering on the farm. I get to eat fish again! (As mentioned previously, I seldom buy fish at the grocery store.) It's gonna be sweeeeeeet. Will have pics Monday.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.