Eat Your Spuds it's St. Patty's Day

Since St. Patrick's Day is nigh upon us, I dedicate today's musings to my grandmother, Josephine O'Hara. Or, as I knew her best, Grandma Jo. That's her on the right (below) with her mother-in-law, my Great Granny O'Hara, circa 1936. Grandma Jo was so proud of her Irish heritage that dinner on St. Patrick's Day was akin to Christmas or

The Farmland of my Roots and its Vinegret

My farming ancestors came to Canada from Russia in the 1890s and, ever since I was a child, I dreamed of visiting their village on the Dnieper River.

That opportunity came in April. Despite the conflict between Ukraine and Russian separatists, which is unfolding east of the Dnieper, I made a trek to the little village once known as Klosterdorf.

It was also a journey into the history of wheat. Some 2,500 years ago, farmers along the Black Sea – from the Danube to the Dnieper and beyond – supplied wheat to ancient Greece and Rome, neither of which could grow enough grain to meet the essential bread demands of their populations.

The shores of the Black Sea are dotted with the ruins of Greek colonies such as Histria in Romania and Olbia in Ukraine, both of which I visited on my way to Klosterdorf. Beautiful pottery, delicate glassware and gold coins on display in the archaeology museum of Odessa paint a picture of a prosperous agricultural society on the shores of what the Greeks called the Hospitable Sea.

Fast forward to the 1770s. The Russian army captured the area from the Ottoman Empire. Czar Catherine the Great invited farmers to return to the land and they did, from all over Europe, including my German ancestors.

A century later, the port of Odessa handled 40 percent of Russian’s grain trade. No doubt, some of that grain was grown on the fields of Klosterdorf.

Today, Klosterdorf is no longer a place on the map. It has been amalgamated into a larger village called Zmiivka, Ukraine. That was my destination as I boarded a dusty bus on a sunny spring day in April along with my husband, John, and an English translator named Viktorya.  

The old bus rattled down the country road, gears grinding and shocks falling flat. Apple trees were blooming and the young wheat was green. On either side, the fields were so wide and flat and straight to the horizon it reminded me of home, where I grew up in Saskatchewan.

We had not gone far when Viktorya began chatting up the old women at the front of bus. They laughed, flashing gold teeth and peppering her with questions about our venture to the village at the end of the road.

Before long, we had been invited in for tea, given a brief history of the village and pointed in the direction of Naberezhnaya Street, which was in former times the main street of Klosterdorf.

It looked as it might have a century ago, long low cottages on tidy lots that run perpendicular to the road, hens in the yard and laundry on the line. Gardens were turned and ready for potato planting. “We love our potatoes,” one lady told us through Viktorya. “Without potatoes we would probably starve.” Hmmm, reminds me of my dad.

Another old-timer recalled a little German church at the far end of the street, but it’s gone now. Most of the German settlers left long ago. Today, Zmiivka is better known for its Swedish settlers who have maintained some ties with their former homeland.

From a high point on the street, we had a spectacular view of the Dnieper by which grain was transported in former times. The river has been dammed downstream, flooding some of the land once associated with Klosterdorf, but it presents a picture of a contented and self-sufficient village that time forgot.

We wandered back to the bus stop with time to sit and have a cool drink outside the little grocery store, where the clerk calculated our purchase on a wooden abacus. A curious gentleman sat down and asked our story, what had brought us from Canada to Zmiivka, which Viktorya related to him.

He looked at me thoughtfully. “Yes,” he said. “When I look at your face I can see your ancestors.”

This beet and potato salad is ubiquitous in Ukraine and a favourite in my kitchen back home in Canada.

Vinegret
2 potatoes
2 beets
3 carrots
2-3 dill pickles
1/4 cup onion, finely chopped
1 tbsp vegetable oil
1 tsp vinegar (optional)
Salt and pepper

Boil potatoes, beets and carrots separately until cooked. Cool and peel. Chop vegetables and pickles in a small dice. Mix with onion, oil and vinegar. Season with salt and pepper.

(This article first appeared in Grainews.)

Prairie Kitchens - Potato and Apple Salad

One hundred years ago, this country was at war. World War I began in August, 1914, making a significant impact on agriculture and the daily diet.

Wheat was in high demand, much of it sent to feed our allies in Britain and our troops in Europe, for whom bread was a staple food. By 1917, the price of wheat had tripled to $2.20 a bushel. Farm families prospered. It was boom time in Saskatchewan.

We also sent pork, beef, butter and cheese to Europe, creating shortages here at home. Recipes published in the Saskatoon Daily Star reflected these shortages. Baked goods were made with less white flour and more oat, corn, rye and whole wheat flour, and less white sugar in favour of brown sugar, syrup and molasses.

There were fewer recipes for meat dishes and more for fish and beans. There were also more recipes for cooking and preserving garden vegetables and local fruit such as apples and berries. Recipes in 1914 such as fancy sandwiches and cheese fondue gave way in 1916 to recipes for baked brown bread and raspberry ice.

This frugal recipe for potato and apple salad appeared in the newspaper on August 28, 1916, along with recipes for curried crab, raspberry ice and whole wheat apple cake.

Potato and Apple Salad
6 tart apples
4 medium boiled potatoes
Juice of one lemon
Salad greens
French dressing

Core apples (peeled or unpeeled) and cut into cubes or thin slices. Marinate in lemon juice one hour. Cut cold potatoes into cubes or thin slices to match the apples. Lightly mix in apples. Serve on salad greens with French dressing.

Note that in 1916, French dressing was not the pinkish salad dressing in our stores today, but a simple blend of 2 tsp vinegar, 4 tbsp oil, 1/2 tsp salt and 1/4 tsp pepper. To that, I added 1/2 tsp paprika, 1/2 tsp mustard powder, 2 tbsp grated onion and a pinch of sugar.

(This article first appeared in the Saskatoon Star Phoenix.)

Prairie Kitchens - Spudnuts

The annual Saskatoon exhibition begins today, and that means more than 50,000 spudnuts will be consumed over the week. Spudnuts are a summer tradition in this city, but their history goes way back.


The word "spud" is an old English nickname for the potato. As such, spudnuts are a doughnut made with potato as a main ingredient. Many of the European cultures that settled Saskatchewan brought a potato-based doughnut in their culinary repertoire. They used mashed potatoes, which produces a lighter fluffier doughnut than with flour alone.

In the early 1900s, spudnuts were introduced to the Saskatoon exhibition. For many years, they were made by volunteers, first by the Church of Latter Day Saints and then the Boy Scouts; Prairieland Park took over production a decade ago. As many as 90 employees are put to work making 45 batches of 200 spudnuts every day of the fair, rolling and forming each one by hand, according to Carl Schlosser, director of events at Prairieland Park.

Nowadays, he says, they do not use mashed potatoes but an exclusive (and secret) flour-dry potato mix. So, if you can't get to the Ex, you can enjoy some old-fashioned spudnuts at home.

Spudnuts
2 1/4 tsp yeast (1 packet)
1/4 cup warm potato cooking water
1 cup mashed potatoes
3/4 cup warm milk
1/4 cup melted butter or vegetable oil
1/4 cup sugar
1 egg, lightly beaten
1/2 tsp salt
3 – 4 cups flour
Vegetable oil or lard for deep frying

Dissolve yeast in warm potato water and let sit until frothy, about 10 minutes. Stir in mashed potatoes, milk, butter or oil, sugar, egg and salt. Add 3 cups flour and knead 8–10 minutes, adding the remaining flour as needed to form a smooth dough that is not sticky.

Place in an oiled bowl, turning the dough to oil all sides, cover with a tea towel and let rise until doubled, about 1 hour. Punch down and rise again until doubled.

Roll dough to a thickness of 1/2 inch. Cut with a doughnut punch, or cut in circles and work a hole in the centre with your fingers. Rest spudnuts 15 minutes.

Heat vegetable oil at a depth of 2 inches to 350F, when a drop of dough browns nicely but does not burn. Working in batches, fry spudnuts until golden brown, turning to cook both sides and draining on paper towel. Dip into sugar or glaze with icing.

 

 

 

(This article first appeared in the Saskatoon Star Phoenix.)

Prairie Kitchens - Latkes

Little known in Saskatchewan's history is the story of its Jewish settlers. Some of the first farming colonies were formed by Jewish immigrants from Europe, United States and South Africa. The first, New Jerusalem, was started in 1884. Other colonies followed: Sonnenfeld, Hirsch, Edenbridge, Wapella, Lipton.

Among the settlers were two young bachelors, David and Michael Usiskin, who left the urban poverty of London, England, to take homesteads at Edenbridge, northeast Melfort. Michael's story is published as Uncle Mike's Edenbridge: Memoires of a Jewish Pioneer Farmer, translated from its original Yiddish. He recounts how terribly hard they worked to clear the land, how little money they earned and how little they had to eat.

The most common dishes on their dinner table appear to be borscht, bread, potatoes and cabbage rolls, with the occasional wild rabbit. One winter, four bachelors lived together, one of whom liked to cook. But instead of breakfast, he gave them poems:

"Here's toast… pale as a ghost."
"The pudding is sweet… if only there was more of it to eat."
"Nourish yourselves with what you read, because the food is scarce indeed."

Interesting to note, according to Alan Anderson's Settling Saskatchewan, the ancestors of Saskatoon's Buckwold family also settled in Edenbridge, and today our city has the Sid Buckwold Bridge. No doubt plenty of potatoes were turned into this classic but simple Jewish recipe.

Potato Latkes
3 medium potatoes
1/2 cup finely chopped onion
1 egg
2 tablespoons flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon fresh ground black pepper
Vegetable oil for frying

Peel potatoes and coarsely grate. Mix in onion. Squeeze out as much moisture as possible by spreading on a tea towel or paper towel and pressing well.

In a bowl, whip together egg, flour, baking soda, salt and pepper. Stir in potato-onion mixture. Form patties about 3 inches wide.

Heat 1/4 inch of vegetable oil in a cast iron skillet on high heat, until a shred of potato fries quickly. Carefully slip in latkes one at a time, cooking both sides to a crispy brown, 5–7 minutes. Serve topped with apple sauce or sour cream.

Do you have an old family recipe with an immigrant story? Send me a comment.

(This article first appeared in the Saskatoon Star Phoenix.)

Prairie Kitchens - Colcannon

For St. Patrick's Day, let's visit the site of Saskatchewan's one and only stage coach robbery. Early morning July 18, 1886, the coach was travelling from Fort Qu'Appelle to Edmonton when it was stopped by a bandit with a double barrelled shotgun. He made off with the mail bag and cash worth $30,000 in today's dollars.

The site of the stick up has been pinpointed just northeast of Lanigan, near the future site of Saskatchewan's Irish Colony. In 1905, a group of settlers arrived from Quebec and took homesteads there. They were recruited by Father John Sinnett, a Roman Catholic priest and immigration agent based in Prince Albert.

They called their town Sinnett and, since the settlers were of Irish decent, the area became known as the Irish Colony. More Irish settlers arrived from Canada, United States and Ireland, among them my great grandfather Jack McNulty from Ontario.

His daughter Josephine, my Grandma Jo, was so proud of her Irish heritage she cooked a feast on St. Patrick's Day to rival Christmas dinner. Of course, meals were more modest in the early days of the Irish Colony, and one can imagine the table set with a big pot of economical colcannon.

There are many variations on Irish colcannon. Use kale in place of cabbage and ham in place of bacon, or no meat at all. As for Saskatchewan's only stage coach robbery, the bandit got fourteen years but the money was never recovered. Perhaps it's buried in a pot at the end of the rainbow.

(Make some Irish Soda Bread with that!) 

Colcannon
2 lbs potatoes (3 large)
2 tbsp butter
1/2 cup warm milk
4 cups shredded cabbage
3-4 slices thick cut bacon, diced
1/2 cup chopped onion or leek
3/4 tsp salt and a pinch of pepper
Chopped parsley or green onion to garnish

Peel, quarter and cook potatoes in boiling salted water until tender. Drain. Mash with butter and milk, adding more milk if needed to make a smooth puree. Keep warm. Cook cabbage in boiling water for 10 minutes and drain. Cook bacon in a large skillet until soft. Stir in onion and cook until bacon is done. Add cabbage, stirring in salt and pepper, and cook a few minutes longer. Blend cabbage into the warm mashed potatoes. Garnish with chopped parsley or green onion.

Do you have prairie recipe with a story? Send me a comment or email homefordinner@sasktel.net. Follow me at twitter.com/prairiefeast.

(This article first appeared in the Saskatoon Star Phoenix.)

Priarie Kitchens - Potato Pie

In the settlement of Saskatchewan, more pioneers came from the United States than any other country. But many of them, or their parents, originated in Europe. Not so the Black pioneers. By 1912, an estimated 1,500 African Americans, most of them from Oklahoma, had homesteaded on the prairies.


In 1906, the Lafayette brothers settled near Rosetown. In 1910, a group of twelve families led by Joe and Mattie Mayes homesteaded near Maidstone. That same year, the Smiths settled at Lashburn. Many more went to Alberta.

Why Oklahoma? In 1907, Oklahoma became a state and began passing laws to discriminate against its African American citizens. Vitriol and violence were not uncommon. At the same time, Canada was advertising for farmers. For the Black pioneers, some of whom had known slavery, Canada was the Promised Land.

Of course, they brought their southern food traditions with them. Fried chicken, sugared ham, button bone ribs, boiled greens, minted carrots, biscuits and gravy, corn bread, ice cream, molasses cookies, cinnamon rolls, sweet potato pie. Some of those ingredients weren't available in Saskatchewan a century ago, but the cooks made do. Like many pioneers, they hunted rabbits and other wild game, planted large gardens and ate a lot of potatoes. They adopted sauerkraut and saskatoon pie. Sweet potato pie became, quite humbly, just potato pie.

Calgary author Cheryl Foggo is a descendant of Saskatchewan's Black pioneers. She provided her mother's (and grandmother's) recipe for potato pie, inspired by a recipe from Mrs. Mayes and still a staple at family gatherings.

Potato Pie
1 1/2 cups evaporated milk
2 1/2 cups cooked, mashed potatoes
2 eggs slightly beaten
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 3/4 cup sugar
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp. nutmeg
1/2 tsp lemon extract or zest of one lemon
1/2 cup melted butter
Unbaked pie shell

Put evaporated milk in an ice cube tray and freeze for 20 minutes, then beat the cold milk until it stands like whipped cream. Blend the whipped milk into the potatoes and beat until smooth.

Mix the remaining ingredients. Stir into potatoes and milk. Pour into unbaked pie shell. Bake at 425F for 15 minutes. Reduce oven temperature to 350F and bake another 45 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in centre comes out clean. Cool pie. Serve with ice cream or whipped cream.

Do you have prairie recipe with a story? Send me a comment. Follow at twitter.com/prairiefeast.

The article first appeared in the Saskatoon Star Phoenix.

Rosti for Breakfast

My favourite breakfast for a cold Sunday morning. Our boiler quit working overnight, but we lit a warming fire and ate rosti while we waited for the plumber to arrive.

Rosti is a national dish of Switzerland. Cooked potato is grated into an oiled pan and fried on both sides, then topped with a bit of melted cheese. Add a dash of salt, too. Potatoes do love salt!

This rosti was made with fingerling potatoes grown on my brother's farm, so it's good, cheap food, just like the old peasant foods of Switzerland where rosti began. Here's another version with bacon and scallions from Bon Appetit.

Newspaper column - ROSTI

This morning my husband gave me a choice for breakfast: oatmeal or potatoes. If I chose oatmeal, it would be oatmeal porridge with wild blueberries. If I chose potatoes, it would be rösti, a traditional Swiss breakfast of grated leftover potatoes fried up with chopped green onion and a bit of melted cheese. As I took a moment to make my decision, he gave me a little prompt, “Remember your New Year’s resolution.”

Ah, yes. One year ago, I made a New Year’s resolution to eat more potatoes.

This may seem an odd resolution at a time when most people are making more serious pledges for self improvement such as weight loss, debt reduction and stress management. But I ask you, how long do those resolutions last? By pledging to eat more potatoes, I felt confident this was one New Year’s resolution that would stick—at least to my ribs.

Why the potato, you ask?

What better vegetable to celebrate on a cold winter’s day than the hardy, tenacious, stoic potato, which hunkers down for winter and patiently waits for spring. The potato positively thrives in our northern climate. Perhaps if I ate more potatoes, I reasoned, some of that northern vigour would rub off on me.

The potato is also the only vegetable for which Saskatchewan (and my own family) is pretty much self-sufficient, which is reason enough to eat more. To kick off my year of the potato, I devised a menu for New Year’s Eve with potatoes in every course. The appetizer included blue potato pakoras, a delicious deep-fried snack from India.

With the main course of roast chicken, I served both tartiflette (a lovely Alpine concoction of potatoes, bacon and cheese) and a Spanish omelette made with potatoes and red peppers. Dessert included mashed potato and chocolate chip cookies, followed by a hardy New Year’s toast with a shot of potato vodka.

I’m a big proponent of eating Saskatchewan-produced food to support the local farm economy and reduce the mileage on the things we eat. And for many special meals, that includes potatoes. Take Thanksgiving, for instance. This year’s menu included roast chicken with bacon and sage stuffing, homemade cranberry sauce, roast potatoes and gravy, wild rice and dried cherry salad, scalloped corn and, for dessert, both apple and cherry pies.

More recently, we had a special dinner with friends after attending the Christmas concert of the Saskatoon Children’s Choir. The menu included a curried pear and squash soup garnished with wild rice, artisanal bread from the farmers’ market and cold cuts made by a local butcher. Last year for Christmas, the menu included roast turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, coleslaw, pickled asparagus and baked meringue with berry sauce.

Every ingredient mentioned above was locally procured.

This year for Christmas dinner, I’m planning a menu of baked ham with honey mustard glaze, scalloped potatoes, roast carrots and parsnips, perogies with silky onions and, for dessert, perhaps blueberry tarts.

Special meals are steeped in tradition, and many families have special traditions of their own. But in our house, every meal is extra special when it’s made with the bounty of this land. As for this New Year’s resolution, I haven’t made up my mind yet. As for breakfast? I chose potatoes.

Swiss Rösti
Leftover cooked potatoes
A few green onions, chopped
Salt and pepper
Canola or olive oil
A small bit of grated cheese

Peel and grate the potatoes. Mix with the green onions and season with salt and pepper. Pour a thin sheen of oil into a heavy frying pan and bring to medium-high heat. Scoop the potatoes into the pan, pressing them into a flat circle. Fry until the bottom is brown and crisp, then flip it over and fry the other side. When it’s cooked, sprinkle with grated cheese, cover and turn off the heat. Serve when the cheese is melted.

This column appeared in today's Star Phoenix.

Hanson Buck Potato Head

Funny what you find while sprouting potatoes!

(For more on the the Hanson Buck, and a picture for compar- ison, see here.)

New Year's Food Resolution

I resolve in 2009 to eat more potatoes. I know, I know, potatoes get a bad rap as a weight-gaining carbo. But the truth is, they're very good for you. Besides, the potato is the only vegetable for which Saskatchewan (and my family) is self-sufficient. That's reason enough to eat more.

I just read a history of the potato by John Reader in which he says the potato eaten with a dairy product is more nutritious than a slice of whole wheat bread. Even so, when it arrived in Europe from South America (with the Spanish in the mid 1500s) people refused to eat it. Doctors said it caused leprosy and preachers said it caused lust. It was adopted by the aristocracy (who staged dinners with potatoes in every course) and eventually trickled down to the masses. And who today can imagine a world without shepherd's pie, latkes and potato perogies?

To kick off my New Year's Resolution, I seved an all-potato dinner. It began with latkes and pakoras, then a roast chicken with tartiflette and a potato & red pepper pie, wrapping up with potato cookies and chocolate martinis with potato vodka. Okay, the cookies were wierd, but the chocolate vodka was great! (Thanks Sarah and Curt!!)

Flavours of India - BLUE POTATO PAKORAS

I get rather excited when I find an "exotic" recipe that can be made almost entirely with ingredients from Saskatchewan. Pakoras fit the bill. I used chickpea flour from Diefenbaker Seed Processors of Elbow, the cumin was given to me by a local farmer and the potatoes were grown by my nephew Even on the family farm at Craik. This recipe was adapted from TimeLife Foods of the World: The Cooking of India.

1/2 cup chickpea flour (also called besan)
1/4 tsp baking soda
5 tbsp cold water
1/4 cup grated onion
1 cup grated raw blue potato
3 tbsp finely chopped cilantro
1/4 tsp ground cumin
1 hot chili (fresh or dried) finely chopped
1 tsp salt
canola oil for frying

Whisk the chickpea flour, baking soda and water to make a batter. Stir in the remaining ingredients except the canola oil.

Pour the canola oil into a saucepan to a depth of two inches. Heat on medium heat until a baking thermometer reaches 350F. The surface of the oil will shimmer and a drop of batter will sizzle and brown.

Scoop a level spoonful (a heaping tbsp) of batter and drop it into the hot oil. When the pakora is nicely brown, flip and cook the other side. This should take 5-6 minutes. (If the pakoras brown too quickly, there is a danger the batter at the centre will be uncooked. Adjust the heat if necessary.) Fry several pakoras at once but don’t crowd them in the pot. Remove cooked pakoras to a paper towel. Serve with chutney or yogurt dip.

CBC Radio calling - Potatoes

I love potatoes any which way but mashed. But the most unusual way I've ever eaten potatoes is when they're dessert. Here's a great recipe for Italian potato cake.

My other potato favourites include: Nice Salad, Potato Fish Cakes and my sister-in-law Sherrie's twice baked potatos. (I don't have the recipe but I promise to post it asap.)

Newspaper Column - POTATO BELLS

Published in the Saskatoon Star Phoenix, 21 July 2008.

The United Nations has declared 2008 the Year of the Potato, so it is appropriate that we pay homage to this humble tuber which grows so well on the prairie. In fact, potatoes are the only vegetable grown in Saskatchewan in sufficient quantities to meet local demand. In other words, we are potato self-sufficient. (Excluding potatoes, we import about 97% of all vegetables sold in local grocery stores.)

Saskatchewan farmers also produce seed potatoes which, thanks to an unexplained phenomenon called “northern vigor” are in demand by potato farmers south of the border. Northern vigor means the plants grow faster and produce more potatoes than seed potatoes from warmer climates. (This may be due to the longer days, cooler nights or colder winters on the prairies, but nobody quite knows for sure. Research is ongoing.)

The United Nations chose to celebrate the potato because of its growing popularity around the world, especially in developing countries where the potato has great potential for alleviating the hunger caused by higher prices for wheat, corn and rice. Potatoes are also part of the U.N.’s mandate to improve the lives of women in poorer countries where farming and marketing is often women’s work, so if more potatoes are consumed, women and their children will benefit.

In my family, the potato patch was my dad’s project. As children, we helped to plant and harvest 400 hills of potatoes, and later when the harvest was in the cold room, we kept the potatoes “sprouted” through the winter months. We ate a lot of potatoes when I was growing up. When I got my own home, dad kept me supplied with potatoes until a couple of years ago when he retired from the farm. Now I grow my own. My plot at the City Park Community Garden is stuffed full of fingerling potatoes, which are long and yellow and never need to be peeled.

The potato has an interesting history. It originated in the Andes Mountains of South America, where it was a staple and sacred food of the Incas. The farmers of Peru still grow 2,800 different varieties of potatoes. Spanish explorers took the potato back to Europe in the 1500s, where it was not quite as popular as South American gold—many people thought potatoes were poisonous and could cause a whole host of diseases such as leprosy.

Because potatoes were so easy to cultivate and produced so much food for so little effort (as compared, say, to wheat) it was believed that anyone who grew them would become chronically lazy. Suspicious farmers refused to plant them, let alone eat them. It wasn’t until the kings and queens of Europe began touting the pleasures of potatoes (and growing them in the royal gardens) that the rest of the population caught on. Potatoes have seen their dark days. In the mid-1800s in Ireland, potato crops were destroyed by a blight, causing widespread starvation and prompting many people to leave Ireland for greener pastures in North America.

Europeans eat more potatoes per capita than anyone else. North Americans come second (much of that as French fries), but the largest producer of potatoes is now China, attesting to the potato’s potential for feeding the growing populations of the world.

Potatoes are very good for you. Eaten with dairy products, they provide almost all the elements of a healthy diet. Most world cuisines include potatoes from perogies to curries to gratins, even, according to the UN website, potato-based desserts. Personally, I like potatoes any which way but mashed. Now that delicious baby potatoes are at the farmers’ markets—and a garden near you—it is a perfect time to celebrate the International Year of the Potato.

Potato Bells
Peel and wash one large potato per person. Using a melon baller, scoop out half-circle “bells” of raw potato. Cook the “bells” in salted boiling water just until tender. Drain. Smother the warm potatoes in melted butter. Fry in a hot skillet until the potatoes are golden brown.

Newspaper column - NICE SALAD

Publsihed in the Saskatoon Star Phoenix, Oct. 22, 2007.

Occasionally, there is a fine line between tenacity and hard-headedness. I admire tenacity in garden vegetables, like the rhubarb that refuses to be cut back and the squash that grows out of the compost.This past spring, my garden was full of renegade spinach in places that had never been planted to spinach. I admired that spunk so much I carefully transplanted it into a proper row.

But when a full-grown tomato plant is still in the garden in mid-October, with its yellowing leaves and spindly stem, and pinkish tomatoes struggling to soak up enough sun to turn red – well, that is sheer hard-headedness. And the hard head is all mine. Perhaps a psychiatrist would diagnose me as suffering from winter denial syndrome, but I can think of no better way to stave off the commencement of winter than to prolong the advancement of the summer garden.

So, every night I go out and cover my tomatoes with an old sheet and every morning I roll back the frosty sheet so the tomatoes can bask in the sun. Somewhere in between the sheets – preferably at dinnertime – I pluck off the ripest of the red tomatoes and eat them – preferably with the salad greens I planted in August which are now at their tender peak. (Lettuce and spinach can take a bit more frost than tomatoes, but I’m not taking any chances; I cover them at night, too.)

A few years ago, my husband and I spent the winter in a medieval mountain town in Italy where, right up to Christmas, gardeners were nurturing their tomatoes on the vine. These tomatoes were usually planted in front of a rock wall and staked to a tall pole, which maximized the warmth and exposure to the sun. It didn’t matter that the stems were spindly and the leaves were almost gone, those last few delicious tomatoes kept on ripening to the bitter end – which came with the first snow on New Year’s Eve.

I decided to try this principle in my own garden here in Saskatoon. I planted a few tomatoes up against the house (grey stucco, sort of like rocks) and attached them to tall stakes. And here it is, the latter half of October, and I am still enjoying fresh tomatoes from the garden. This may be hard-headed obstinacy, but there is method to my madness. Like an Italian grandmother, I prefer my vegetables to be fresh and in season. I want to eat what local gardens have to offer, rather than defy the seasons by buying imported vegetables from other parts of the planet. So, tomatoes and salad greens only when they’re fresh here in Saskatchewan (and, I hasten to add, you can still get both at the Saskatoon farmers’ market).

Here’s a great salad based on the French original called Salade Nicoise (nee-swaz), named for the city of Nice. I made it last week with tomatoes, salad greens and baby fingerling potatoes fresh out of my garden. The French version calls for tuna, but I use leftover Saskatchewan fish when I have it. It turned out so pretty and delicious, I called my version the Nice Salad. This recipe is a meal for two or a first course salad for four.

Nice Salad
3-4 cups of salad greens
Several thin slices of onion
(or 2 sliced green onions)
Two handfuls of baby potatoes, boiled
(or larger potatoes, cooked and quartered)
2-3 small ripe tomatoes, in wedges
3 hardboiled eggs, in wedges
1/2 green pepper, thinly sliced
(or steamed green beans/asparagus in season)
1/2 cup cooked fish

Dressing:
Juice of one-half lemon
2-3 tbsp vegetable oil
1/2 tsp Dijon mustard
Dash of salt and pepper

Whisk together the dressing ingredients. Toss half of the dressing with the salad greens and onion. Arrange the potatoes, tomatoes, eggs and other vegetables around a platter. Drizzle with the remainder of the dressing. Mound the salad greens in the centre. Top the greens with the cooked fish. Serve with a big spoon and two salad bowls.

Isn't that nice - NICE SALAD

The French make a salad called Salade Nicoise (nees-waz), named for the city of Nice. It’s usually made with tuna, but since that is not a Saskatchewan ingredient, I made it with trout. It turned out very nice, and that is why I’ve called it the Nice Salad. This recipe is for two. You can double and triple it if you like.

2 small boiled potatoes, peeled and cubed
½ green pepper, sliced
10 thinly sliced rounds of onion, or more to taste
Small handful of fresh basil, thinly sliced
2 red tomatoes, cut in wedges
2 hardboiled eggs, cut in wedges
½ cup cooked trout, flaked

Dressing:
Juice of one-half juicy lemon
An equal amount of olive oil
½ tsp Dijon mustard
Dash of salt and pepper

In a bowl, mix together the potatoes, green pepper and onion. Make the dressing by mixing the lemon juice, mustard, salt and pepper. Drizzle in the olive oil, all the while beating with a whisk to form a creamy dressing. Toss the dressing into the potatoes. Let marinate a few minutes or longer. Before serving, mix in the basil. To serve, divide the potato mixture onto two plates. Place the wedges of tomato and hardboiled egg around the edge of the salad. Mound the fish in the centre. Eat! (A Salade Nicoise often includes green beans, but since they are not in season yet, I’ll leave them out my Nice Salad until later in the summer.)

Week 47 - TARTIFLETTE

Saskatchewan Menu of the Week -- 6 March 2006

Breakfast -- Yogurt and cherries.
Lunch -- Venison salami and mustard on bread.
Dinner -- Tartiflette.

We had dinner the other night at the home of our friends, Tom and Eva. They had just come home from France with their suitcases full of food (as they often do), including a reblochon cheese. I consulted the World Encyclopedia of Cheese, which describes reblochon as having "a supple and creamy texture that flows over and caresses the palate." Who can resist a cheese as sensuous as that? For dinner, Eva prepared tartiflette, a traditional French alpine specialty that calls for reblochon cheese. It was fabulous. The dish is somewhat like scalloped potatoes with the addition of the rich and fragrant cheese. I loved it so much I had to have it again. I didn’t have any reblochon at home, but I did have some raclette, the French cheese traditionally melted over boiled potatoes.

Of course, French cheese is not from Saskatchewan. But there is no equivalent cheese made here - and I don't think this dish was meant for cheddar! But the potatoes are local. The bacon is local. Even the cream was the very heavy variety, straight from the cow. The kind you can't buy in a store (unless you're in France).

I think tartiflette is best made in flat individual serving dishes, as Eva did, but it can also be made in a single large casserole. The trick, I think, is to have a wide pan so the layers are skinny and there’s much top exposure for browning the cheese. I searched the internet for various versions of tartiflette, and this is what I came up with:

TARTIFLETTE
for four

2 lbs of potatoes
2 T butter
2 slices bacon, small diced
1 medium onion, finely chopped
one reblochon cheese or 250g of other pungent melting cheese, sliced
2 cups cream
salt and pepper

Peel the potatoes and cut into slices 1/8 inch thick.
Melt the butter in a saucepan. Sauté the bacon and onion until softly cooked.
Layer half the potatoes in the bottom of the baking dish(s). Spread on half the onion and bacon. Layer on half the cheese. Salt and pepper. Repeat. Pour on the cream. It should just cover the potatoes. (If it’s not enough, top it up with milk.)
Bake at 350 degrees F for about 1 - 1.5 hours. The top should be nicely browned.

The First Bite - GERMAN POTATO SALAD

A Chinese proverb says a journey of 1000 miles begins with one step. My journey of 365 days begins with one bite. It was a mouthful of warm potato salad topped with fresh chives from my garden, served with weisswurst from the farmers' market and my mom's pickles. With the first bite, I began a culinary adventure I call "Home for Dinner" because I pledge to serve local foods almost exclusively on my dinner table.
Like all journeys, I began by poring over books (cookbooks, in this case) and plotting an itinerary. The journey would begin the first day of spring I ate something green from my garden (today!). It would take me to farms, farmers markets, roadside stalls, small-town groceries and large manufacturers in a search for the foods grown and raised in my home province, Saskatchewan.

And so, I set off on a journey that brings me closer to home with every bite.

Warm German Potato Salad
(adapted from Saveur, Oct. 2003)

4-5 potatoes
1 cup chicken stock, hot
2 tbsp butter
1 small onion, finely chopped
2 tbsp vinegar
4 tbsp canola oil
salt and pepper
fresh chopped chives

Cook the potatoes. Drain and cool slightly. Meanwhile, melt butter in a skillet. Saute onion until soft. Stir in the hot stock, vinegar and oil. Season with salt and pepper.

When potatoes are cool enough to handle, but still quite warm, slice thinly and add to the stock mixture. Serve sprinkled with chives.

Sources: my dad's potatoes; homemade chicken stock; my garden chives