On Cowgirls, Picnics, And Yes, More Cheese

Has anybody else noticed that it's warm outside? I measure the heat by how big my hair is, and how many bobby pins are needed to secure it. Today, the bobby pin index is four. Yes, summer is firmly in place, my friends, and you may now find yourselves itching to picnic.

I like to picnic as much as the next girl, but for me it's not as simple as just throwing some chicken, soda, and chips in a cooler and grabbing a blanket. My picnic preferences run a little fussy, I'm afraid. For one thing, I don't like bugs, so sprawling on the grass is pretty much out. My dream picnic setting is a wraparound porch overlooking the ocean. Cold chicken would be alright, but there's something about duck pate that makes me just a touch happier. A bottle of wine would replace the ho-hum soda in my picnic fantasy. And finally, we will need cheese.

What is a picnic of pate and wine without cheese? Sad, that's what. You don't have to make your own this time, but you should treat yourself to something exceptional. Something like the outrageous Mt. Tam. This is a triple-cream of the highest order. It's rich and decadent but not overly buttery. I discovered it last weekend at Cowgirl Creamery, my new favorite shop. Forget that the name is awesome, this place is a food-lover's heaven. It's filled with the scent of fresh cheeses and bread. Shelves of sophisticated condiments and crackers line the walls. White-hatted ladies and gentlemen stand by, ready to offer a sliver of Manchego or a crumble of Gorgonzola. But the smooth Mt. Tam is my current favorite.

If you can't get to the Creamery you might consider buying their cheese online. Your picnic mates will thank you.


Photograph from Cowgirl Creamery website

The Great Ricotta Experiment Of 2009

In online dating speak, "enjoys making cheese" would be my variation of "must love dogs." It's one of my deal-breakers. Sorry, but if you don't care for curds, this is never going to work.

Fortunately, I don't have to fret about that anymore because my boyfriend's back, and he is a cheese person. In fact, when I told him last week that I wanted to try making my own he said, "Cool! Like maybe on Friday night?" This is what I'm talking about. A man who wants to stay home on an evening typically associated with parties and bars to take a crack at homemade ricotta. He even took pictures with his cell phone for proof.

I got the recipe from this year's January issue of Bon Appetit (you can find it here). Basically, you add salt and lemon juice to simmering milk and then wait for soft curds to form. It's a simple--if somewhat slow--process, which for us looked like this.


After about ten minutes or maybe even longer, you have a situation that appears a little more promising.


Next, you fish out the lovely curds with a slotted spoon and transfer them to a cheesecloth-lined colander to drain for one minute. Then you plop your creation into a bowl and admire it for another minute because it's so cool to behold. See?


Finally you cover the bowl and put it in the refrigerator, not to be seen until the next morning. You think about taking your homemade cheese on a picnic to eat with toast and prosciutto. You imagine it will pair perfectly with a glass of rose.

But the next day, things seemed different. Our ricotta had lost moisture and acquired a vague chalkiness. We probably let it chill for too long. The flavor was still good, but a little too lemony for a savory preparation. We felt like failures for a moment. Then, we thought about dessert. One packet of cocoa nibs and half a jar of fancy macerated sour cherries later, we had this delicious concoction. A bit of a twist in the adventure, yes, but definitely a good one.


Email me your cheese-making tips! And yes, I am getting my own camera. Soon.

Waiting For The Tide Of Big Summer Tomatoes

My mom and I went to the farmer's market near my house recently and were tempted by many things: crisp, tiny cucumbers, loaves of fresh, crusted bread, a rainbow of beets and berries, and of course an onslaught of tomatoes. I think I've mentioned before how much I love summer tomatoes, haven't I? Anyway, considering it's July and tomatoes are everywhere at the market, one could easily conclude that the time has come for me to gorge on them to the point of crippling stomach pain (ok, that only happened once. ONCE!) But patience, my friends.

It will be weeks before a bite of big, juicy tomato is worth the $10-a-pound price you'll pay if you're a good little eater and only buy your produce from the farmer's market. They charge a lot for their goods, but I think they are right to do so. Being a farmer is really hard work. I asked one (who'd sold me some beets after a spirited discussion about goat cheese and mint) what a typical day was like and he said he gets up at 5 am to "survey the fields." His hands were coarse and tan and I'm pretty sure he could tell that dirt is not so much my scene. Another farmer--or fisherman, rather--sold us some beautiful clams that day. He had fish, too, and one of them was labeled "Dressed Flounder." My mom asked what that meant and he quipped: "It means it's been cleaned. Not that it's wearing clothes." We felt dumb and slinked away.

Anyhow, this is all to say that I love farmers and shopping at farmer's markets, but I'm holding off on buying big tomatoes for now. They're not at their best yet. Trust me. The little cherry ones are ready to go, but I'm talking about the beefsteaks. The heirlooms. These need more time before they're ready to slice or chop and serve raw in salads, sandwiches, or just with salt on a plate. So give it some time, and if you need a fix, try this recipe from the Muir Glen tomato people. Their yummy bruschetta has been tiding me (and my mother and siblings) over for the past several weeks, and I'm sure I'll make it again before September, which is when it'll be time to seriously talk summer tomatoes.


Tomato-Olive Bruschetta With Goat Cheese
Makes 24 appetizers

1 can (14.5 oz) Muir Glen Fire-Roasted diced tomatoes, drained
1/4 cup pitted Kalamata olives, quartered
1/4 cup coarsely chopped drained roasted red bell peppers (from a jar)
2 tablespoons chopped fresh basil leaves
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 cup soft goat cheese (4 oz)
24 slices (1/2 inch thick) baguette (about 8 oz), toasted

In medium bowl, mix tomatoes, olives, roasted peppers, basil, and oil.

Spread goat cheese onto toasted baguette slices. Top with tomato mixture. Serve immediately.

Recipe and photo courtesy of Muir Glen

Restaurant Wednesday: Suddenly I'm A Food Writer! Edition

Normally, I know what I'm going to say at this point when I'm typing out a Restaurant Wednesday installment. But at the moment, my mind isn't working properly. I blame this temporary malfunction on the fact that something I wrote is running in The Washington Post Food Section today. As you will see, I wrote a restaurant review. My name is next to Tom Sietsema's in the newspaper. I am so honored!

Even though this is a dream come true for me, I feel a little tacky touting my work. How do you guys feel about self-promotion? While I wait for your responses, I'm off in search of smelling salts. This is the faintest I've felt in a long time...

Oh, and please do visit Chick N' Friends in Columbia if you're over that way. You will not be disappointed!