Up in the sky, it’s a…

…bird, it’s a plane, it’s…well, it’s a mushroom. And it’s a bird. Chicken-of-the-woods mushroom, to be exact. I just cooked one last night. I’d gotten it from the store, after our master forager and mushroom cultivator Rick Tibbetts from Scarborough, had brought it in. Most chicken-of-the-woods I’ve had have been woody, styrofoamy, incredibly disappointing. This was exquisite: soft, buttery, meaty but delicately so rather than earthily like a portabello.

It was good because Rick knows what he’s doing, and he only brings us the best. He said this chicken-of-the-woods will last a week (from Tuesday), and I trust him. See this week’s email newsletter (subscribe via our website) for more info on Rick.

The thing I want to stress is that despite the high-seeming price of our locally foraged or cultivated mushrooms, a little goes such a long way. The piece I bought cost around $5, and in the following preparation was plenty for two people. You could even get less and supplement with portabello. If you’ve been aching to try maitake, get a small piece to add to your white buttons for an omelet; or mix a handful of shimejis in with some sliced criminis. The deep flavor of these mushrooms is worth experiencing, and though they look intimidating/weird they’re fun and easy to play with in the kitchen.

Here's what it looked like, right before I slid it on a plate under eggs over-easy. Those brilliant-orange slices are the "chicken".

I sautéed an all-local mirepoix — local fresh onion, local celery, local carrot — in butter on low heat, mostly covered so it wouldn’t brown. Because I can’t help it, I added some chiffonade (fine shred) local lacinato kale, salt, pepper. Meanwhile, cut the woody core off the mushroom, slice it gently 1/8″ wide, toss in the pan and continue to cook, covered, until soft. I fried some eggs to go on top. And yes, it does — though subtly — taste like chicken!

We’re maybe not doomed

Nice Press Herald article on localizing of school lunch. Of course it costs so much more: 1 penny increase per serving! There is a lot of energy out there for doing more of this, coming from everyone — ordinary teachers, ordinary parents, ordinary kids, politicians big and small, engineers, even grocers. All of us get impatient for change now, and it’s always slower than we want, but man-o-man this is the kind of thing to fill you with optimism for the future — especially when you see this mention of the (possible?) coming food crisis.

One more place for pesto: SOUP!

Soupe au Pistou, a Provençal classic, is one of the greatest imaginable targets for so much of the best local produce we’re getting these days. It’s crazily simple, infinitely adaptable, totally satisfying.

According to one of the few cookbooks I actually come back to repeatedly, Jean-Noël Escudier and Peta Fuller’s “The Wonderful Food of Provence” (does Rabelais Books have this, or can they get it?], Basil Soup, as it’s sometimes called, “originated in Genoa…[but] has become thoroughly Provençal.” If you want to be achingly true to the original, make your own pesto with some of our fresh basil and Gruyere (not Parmesan) cheese, and leave out the pine nuts. Or allow yourself the shortcut of buying a container of our delicious pesto.

Anyway, get your pesto ready as you compose the soup: At its most basic you put some fresh veggies in a pot, according to preference and availability: any fresh garden bean (green, purple, wax, flat, etc.), carrots, potatoes, tomatoes, zucchini. Escudier and Fuller say it’s up to you, “however, at least one green vegetable plus potatoes and tomatoes.” I love adding cooked white beans, and fennel. (Try the just-in local celery; it’s so different from bland conventional celery it’s like a whole different vegetable.)

Cover with water by two inches, bring to boil and simmer 15 minutes seasoned lightly with salt and pepper. At that point you could add some broken spaghetti, or don’t and dip bread later (our ciabatta is perfect for this); regardless, cook another 10-15 minutes or until veggies are cooked.

When the pot’s done cooking, add the pesto in spoonfuls until it tastes as it should (if you’re human and have taste buds, you’ll know when this is). Or, go a little lighter on the pesto, and pass a bowl of it while you’re dining. You could also pass a hunk of cheese with a grater…

Hello, summer, so nice to have you here, please stay a while…

Inspired foraging

No extra words necessary, click here for a very cool video on what happens when passionate and knowledgeable cooks focus on locally foraged foods. A lot of Rosemont friends (and even employees) are in there…

JD Headrick WINE TASTING and DINNER

Two different events, both TUESDAY, AUGUST 10. First, the background: JD Headrick wines are some of Rosemont’s absolute favorites, and Headrick is one of our country’s greatest importers (like, has won awards for his intelligence and support for small wineries and all-natural, handmade, almost-always-organic wines). These Loire Valley gems have a  purity, minerality, fresh/aliveness, and food-lovingness unmatchable at their (and usually twice-their) prices.

Buying a mixed case of Headrick is the greatest (and greatest-value) oenological act of kindness, excitement and civility you could perform for your daily table. Exalted everyday wines, to complement 50% of your dinners (with company or without), and probably 75% of your summer meal plans.

Event number 1 is a regular-style (free) Rosemont tasting, at the Brighton store, 559 Brighton Avenue, 4-6 p.m. We’ll be showing six wines, from the Muscadet, Sauvignon blanc and Gamay that smart Rosemont customers have known about for some time, to the sparkling Chenin blanc “Bulles”, a Savennieres and a seriously-rare Cheverny rouge. Rosemont will be joined by Headrick’s chief U.S. ambassador, Laurent Noblet, who will provide background, history and charm.

Event number 2 is a dinner we’re co-hosting at Hugo’s Restaurant Tuesday, August 10. Six exquisite courses, six exquisite wines, fascinating background from JDH’s Laurent Noblet. $110 inclusive — not cheap, but of course the food will be extraordinary and Hugo’s chef Rob Evans has created a menu intended to show what the wines are truly capable of (just as he does every night by showing what simple, locally farmed ingredients are capable of). Also, you can go the cheaper route by tasting the wines as a “flight” off their regular menu.

You smart? Then call Hugo’s NOW and reserve, we expect the event to sell out!

Both events are meant to promote these wines as the perfect default answer to “what-should-we-drink-with-dinner-tonight?” We are encouraging you to stock up on these wines so they’re a part of your lives, by offering great deals if you buy a case.

We hope to see you August 10, for what will certainly be an unforgettable evening.

weird things i like

This could be a regular feature here.Weird food combos that won’t be making the food mag circuit or showing up on any farm-to-table menu anytime soon. I think half my diet is goofball combos that are embarrassing, personal but delicious. Who else has these? Post ’em here — but spare us the bacon add-on; of course your PB & J tastes better with bacon. These days you have to be doing something very interesting with pigfat to push the ball down the field.

Anyway, my lunch today was a can of sardines packed in olive oil, dumped into a bowl of Thirty Acre Farm ruby kraut (made with red cabbage), dollop of dijon mustard. Oily/fishy density mingling with that fresh-crisp briny cabbage crunch, and mustard tang. Eat your heart out, bratwürst!

chicken run

Maine-ly Poultry, our longtime friend and partner, will no longer be able to supply us — or anyone, wholesale — with chickens. John Barnstein of Maine-ly Poultry is a great man, who runs a terrific operation; we know because we’ve been on his Warren farm. Sad, sad time.

For those of you who eat chicken — or, at Thanksgiving, buy Maine-ly Poultry turkeys from Rosemont — you may find none in our stores this week. We’re making do with a few stopgap measures for now, which means less-local but still high-quality. Meanwhile, we’re working on alternate long-term sources, and we’ll keep you posted. We have a terrific source for pasture-raised, all-natural chickens, from a farm in North Yarmouth, and you’ll be seeing those soon. The price may be a bit higher, but the quality will be peerless: true pasture-raised and free-ranging; finished on natural but non-organic feed, but there may be an option for organic-fed (and more expensive) chickens in the coming weeks.

Bear with us — and the entire area — as we go through this transition, and think good thoughts for John Barnstein.