Farmers Market: Bring on Spring!

Winter was quick to leave the Pacific Northwest this year and though there are still chilly nights and some snowfall in the mountains, we have been enjoying more than this season's fair share of blue skies and jacketless afternoons.

But the one sign of warm days to come that has me a bit giddy is the appearance of asparagus at the Portland Farmers Market. I wasn't really expecting it, yet there is was in all of its tiny stalked and fresh green glory. I've waited nearly a year to make Barbara Kingsolver's Asparagus and Morel Bread Pudding, but finally I can again put that on the Great Ideas for Dinner list.

Ahhhsparagus!

Not only did was there asparagus, but Groundworks Organics even had strawberries! I couldn't resist buying a pint of the promise of summer.

Everytime I go to the Farmers Market I try to buy something I've never prepared before. This week, I chose to try out rhubarb.

Gathering Together Farm had a great big pile of it, so I grabbed a pound or so, stuck it into my bag with my other purchases and made my way home to make...wait for it...

Rhubarb and Ginger Jam

1 pound fresh rhubarb chopped
3 tablespoons fresh ginger, grated
1 cup sugar
1 tablespoon fresh orange zest

Put everything into a medium saucepan and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium low and simmer for about 20 to 30 minutes, stirring frequently until the jam piles up on a spoon and looks all jam-like.

This jam is very good on buttered toast, a Nilla wafer or eaten straight off the spoon. I also used it, with incredible success, as the raspberry jam substitute in the Raspberry Shortbread Bars posted on Almost Slowfood, a fantastic blog written by my dear friend Peggy Bourjaily.

Even my husband J, who doesn't usually have much of a sweet tooth liked them and went back for seconds. Thank you so much Peggy, for always posting such people pleasing recipes!

Sigh...I love Spring.

The Promised Pierogi Post

Mmm...embracing my heritage...with my mouth.

When I was about three years old, my family moved South from Connecticut to western Tennessee. While there were things about the south my parents did enjoy – the longer gardening season, milder winters and wide open skies, there were a few things they missed about life in New England. Many of these things were of the edible variety. So every so often we would receive a care package of pumpernickel bread and hermit cookies from Rita’s bakery, banana Cream of Wheat, and a box or two of Devil Dogs and Drake’s Coffee Cakes. While my brother and I delighted at the sweets and our favorite flavor of hot cereal, we were less thrilled when our Christmas presents would arrive pungently scented with the aroma of pickled herring from of a broken jar mourned by our father.

Summer was the time when we would get our fill of our favorite foods still considered exotic in the Central time zone. Usually around the Fourth of July, my parents, brother and I would hit the road and drive the 1000 miles from just outside of Nashville to the home of my father’s parents in Naugatuck, Connecticut. For a week we feasted on Hummel Hot Dogs, Wise Potato chips, sandwiches on Millette’s bread with its gum-scraping crust. Our large family (my dad was one of 11 kids) would gather for a picnic before watching the town fireworks from the hill in my grandparents’ front yard. It was classic summer kid stuff. For me, the only thing that marred it was, the one thing worse than vinegar and fish liquid soaked into a stuff animal: Cold Beet Soup.

I was determined it was set up by the adults to be a trap for us kids. It’s a hot day, you’ve been running around catching up with cousins you haven’t seen in a year, your cheeks are sticky and flushed, your hair is stuck with sweat to your head and you sidle up to the picnic table looking for refreshment. Skip over the pickle plate with its cocktail onions and olives (later to be eaten one by one off of each of your fingers), past the lunchmeat, the shriveling hotdogs, the bags of buns and hard rolls, potato salad, coleslaw, until your eye settle on a big pot surrounded by ice. In that pot is something that looks so majestically sweet in its hot pink raspberry-ness, the metal container giving off a cool breeze. Your aunt offers to serve up a bowl for you and you nod with a “yes please” as she scoops a dollop of white fluffy cream on top. You take your bowl to a spot under the shade of a large tree and scoop a big spoonful of it to your mouth expecting sweetness and cream but no. Instead, you get a big mouthful of vinegar and beet and sour cream.

It scared me. It kept me from beets for years.

Seriously, doesn't this look like dessert?

It wasn’t until, in my early twenties, I was served a slice of Mark Bittman’s Rosemary and Beet Rosti and fell in love with the red root. It was a reunion of sorts, as I now believe a certain percentage of my Lithuanian and Polish blood must be concentrated beet juice. It is pure earthiness with a sweetness I can now appreciate, and do appreciate often in salads, on burgers, and in that palette enlightening rosti.

That rosti started an exploration of the foods that used to fill my grandmother’s kitchen, the dishes my father would request if we happened to travel up for a Thanksgiving or Easter visit.
One dish that always appeared on the big table in my grandmother’s kitchen next to kugle and homemade kielbasa was pirogi. I loved those potato pillows, a bit chewy and soft, filling and pleasant. I would pick them up by hand when I was younger, and smother them in onions and sour cream as I got older.

Now that I live in the Pacific Northwest and good pierogi seem few and far between, I decided to make a batch on Easter. Back in Connecticut, this is usually done by one of my Aunt Debbies (I have three). I used her recipe for the simple dough to cover the potato and cheese. Once I had the dough and filling ready, I invited a friend over to help me fill them and, of course, to try a few out. The result was a perfect activity and meal for a rainy Portland Sunday afternoon.

Potato and Cheese Pierogi
makes about 50 pierogi

For the dough:
2 pints sour cream
About 4.5 cups flour, maybe more, maybe less.

Put the sour cream in a bowl. Gradually add the flour, mixing with your hand until the mixture becomes a kneedable dough. Note: The flour must be added to the sour cream, this will not work the other way around.

For potato filling:
1 1/2 pound russet (baking) potatoes
6 ounces coarsely grated extra-sharp white Cheddar (2 1/4 cups)
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
Optional: Sauteed mushrooms and shallots or any other filling you find goes well with potato

Peel potatoes and cut into 1-inch pieces. Cook potatoes in a large saucepan of boiling salted water until tender, about 8 minutes. Drain potatoes, then transfer to a bowl along with cheese, salt, pepper and mash with a potato masher or a handheld electric mixer at low speed until smooth. When mashed potatoes are cool enough to handle, spoon out a rounded teaspoon and lightly roll into a ball between palms of your hands.

Divide the dough in half, reserving half under the bowl. Roll out the dough to about 1/4" thick and cut with a 2.5” cookie cutter or glass. This is where it is really nice to have a pierogi making buddy. While one of you cuts out the dough, the other can fold it around the potato balls, sealing it on all edges. It is important that the seal is complete or else water will leak in to the pierogi when you cook it. You can use a fork to press down on the seal if you are concerned about holes.






Once the pierogis have been assembled, you can cook them by dropping them a few at a time into boiling water. When they rise to the surface, they are ready. I prefer to finish mine by sautéing them in a pan of onions and butter. Serve topped with onions and a good dollop of sour cream.

Because this recipe makes about 50 pierogi, you may want to freeze a few. Simply put the fresh pirogis on a cookie sheet, stick them in the freezer until they are frozen solid and then separate into freezer bags. Just remove and boil as needed.

Easter in the Kitchen

Easter was my second favorite holiday as a kid. Thanksgiving was the first, especially when we would make the trip from down south up to Connecticut to stay with my grandparents during the holiday. The over abundance of family and food combined with the mini-celebrity of being the cousins from out-of-state made for a really great family vacation.

Growing up, Easter was a little different. I can't really remember spending an Easter with my extended family in Connecticut before we moved back when I was in high school. Instead it was spent with with my brother and parents in Tennessee or Georgia, a bit less hectic than Thanksgiving, though just as festive. Easter baskets, eggs hidden around the house, church with the family.

And of course, the food. Easter candy is the best holiday-specific candy hands down- Cadbury cream eggs and mini eggs, malted milk ball robins eggs, Reese's peanut butter eggs, jelly beans. Yeah. The best. And of course for real food, ham. Most of you know this already, but I love ham. I'm sure there were other things served, but I'll always remember the ham.

This Easter, J and I spent a quiet day at home, but I couldn't quite let the day pass without a food celebration. Save for a short run in the morning, I spent most of the day in the kitchen feeling cozy as the rain fell outside.

On J's request I made what I can only call eggs and tomatoes for breakfast. This is a dish that I was first introduced to at a neighborhood Italian joint called Basta's. We went there one morning for brunch about a year ago and I ordered something similar to this. As they stopped serving brunch a while back, I haven't had it from them since, but this comes as close as I can get to it from memory.

When I had this at Basta's I remember saying "This is so good, I wish I was hungover."

Eggs and Tomatoes
Serves 2

4 eggs
1 28 oz can chopped tomatoes
10-12 basil leaves, torn
3 tbs olive oil, plus some for drizzling
1 tsp sugar
salt and pepper to taste
fresh mozzarella, sliced

Preheat broiler.

Heat tomatoes, basil, olive oil, sugar, salt and pepper in a saucepan over medium heat until hot. Break each egg and slip them into the tomato mixture. Allow them to cook until the whites are no longer translucent and hold together.

Turn off heat and scoop as much of the tomato mixture into two smaller casserole dishes as you can without disturbing the eggs. Next, scoop out the eggs and place two into each dish. Cover eggs with slices of mozzarella and a drizzle of olive oil. Place under the broiler until the the cheese bubbles and browns slightly.

Remove from oven and serve with grilled bread drizzled with olive oil.

So that was breakfast. After breakfast I went about making homemade pirogis, a staple on my extended family's Easter table and a damn good rainy day dinner...look for the recipe later this week.

I also managed to make some bread and just to let C know that I haven't gone over to the dark side, I made some carrot cupcakes with white chocolate cream cheese icing to share at work on Monday.

See C? I'm still doing the cupcake thing...no need to worry!

The Most Fun on Two Feet

Most people in Portland know about First Thursday where once a month the galleries in the Pearl District open their doors for an art crawl. However, what you may not know about, but should, is the slightly faster paced First Thursday Run, sponsored by Fit Right NW. It was an evening that combined two of my favorite things: running and cross promotional marketing.

Basically, you show up at Fit Right sometime before 6:00, sign up for the run, grab a snack, listen to the dj, and wait for the map reveal. Once they show the maps, you take note of 14 locations and then you are off! At each location you visit, you are given a raffle ticket for the great give-ways (shoes, massages, gift certificates) at the end. You have one hour to collect as many tickets as you can. I visited at least three shops I never would have thought to visit before that I intend on going back to some time in the near future.

Here's a video from their website that tells all about it:



I hadn't fully intended on running, since I'm still kinda of recovering from the big run on Saturday. I just jogged down after work to check out their new store and to see what the event was like. Once there, however, I felt like I could just sign up and maybe run to a few locations just to get a feel for it. I ended up running to all but one of the locations, crossing back and forth across NW Portland and dipping into the Pearl for a nice 40 minute jog collecting tickets as I went.

It was incredibly fun. I got to try out some new shoes for which I got a free t-shirt, I snagged some free Darn Good socks (and they definitely look like they may be just that), had a bagel, a glass of Deschutes Brewery Inversion IPA and had a good run at the same time. Best of all? It was totally free!

Thank you, Fit Right NW for a great evening. I'll be back to run again next month!

The Day After the Day After

Now that the post run mental fog has cleared a big, I'd like to continue the wrap up of the big run with a few words of thanks. While I might have been physically alone on the trail, I knew there was a whole support system keeping me going the entire way, so I'd like to give a shout out to the following:

My legs. Not only did a gross realization a couple of years ago that my inner thigh felt kinda like a boob instead of the sleek muscle I hoped for prompt me to start running in the first place, these gams have carried me across many miles over the years and have held up pretty well to the abuse and mud. For that, I am very thankful.

OPB. The folks who bring me Radiolab, This American Life and Portland's own Live Wire. I can't tell you how many times I've thought that other hikers might consider me a mad woman, running through the trees laughing out loud at the jokes only I can hear on my iPod.

Forest Park Conservancy. Thank you, thank you thank you for being the keepers and caretakers of this wonderful resource. For all those reading, if you aren't familiar with the Conservancy, check them out and volunteer. Now that I won't be doing the training for a long run, I am looking forward to spending time on the trails helping to keep them beautiful for everyone else.

All my friends in high school who threw parties in the woods, in a field, or in a barn that necessitated getting used to peeing outside. Without you, I never could have made it through this run with its first and only formal bathroom stop at mile 25.

Everyone who bought a t-shirt. Thanks to you I was able to raise nearly $350 to split between OPB and FPC. Thank you so much for your incredible support of these two foundations...and of me!

All those who joined me for the pasta feed on Friday, met me at the finish line on Saturday or sent along texts cheering me on throughout the run. You guys are the best!

Ok, I can hear the music signifying its time to end my acceptance speech babble, so I'll bow out now, but seriously, thank you to everyone for helping me achieve this goal.

So, now...what's next, you might ask? How about the country's longest relay?

Sarah-thon 2010

What a day! After months of mud, a gazillion packets of Gu and many, many tumbles through the wash for my poor Adidas, the big day finally arrived. Yesterday at approximately 8:15 am, I started out on the Wildwood Trail in Portland's Forest Park to do 32 miles in celebration of my 32nd birthday.



The trail started out nice and clear, I was feeling good, with RadioLab followed by a couple This American Lifes flowing through my earbuds.


Soon, however, I ran into the result of the rains earlier in the week. Nice mud puddles slopped their way across the path every so often, sucking to the bottom of my shoes and adding a little extra zing to the trek.


Ah, the blue diamond that marks the Wildwood Trail. This little guys appear every quarter mile with the mile marker posted above. I made a great effort to avoid looking at the mileage as I passed, but I couldn't stop myself from searching the moss covered tree trunks for the marks.




At the halfway mark, a break for some PB&J.

Eventually, the sun came out and warmed up the 40 degree morning to about 60 degrees.
7 hours and 10 minutes later, I crossed the finish line, set up by my good friend M. G, L, K, G, M, J all greeted me with cheers, champagne poured over my head and I even got a medal!

Here I am with my first place medal!!


Ok. So, I admit that this posting is pretty boring. I promise there is more, hopefully more entertaining bits ahead. However, after the run, I went out to dinner, then to a birthday party and finally to a late night diner for milkshakes with J. I ended up falling asleep around 2 am but then woke up at 9 am unable to go back to sleep, so I'm pretty tired and incoherent now. But, it was a great day...i promise more later! good night...

Its like Christmas in March!

I had trouble falling asleep last night. I was a giddy as a child on Santa's "good list" on Christmas Eve. All night long visions of fiddlehead ferns, peashoots and stinging nettles danced in my head. I awoke at four a.m. with the thought of a grilled cheese made with Rogue Creamery's Rosemary Cheddar.

As soon as was reasonable, I was out of bed, my market bags in hand. After a quick stop at Coffeehouse Northwest for a cup of Stumptown Coffee, I was off to the South Park Blocks to grab me some local grub at the opening day of the 2010 Portland Farmers Market.

Even the first day of Spring was eager to share in the festivities and showed up with sunshine and cherry blossoms at 10:26 a.m. I was there a bit earlier at the opening bell as vendors and market goers alike cheered in the new season.



This year's Portland Farmer's Market has doubled in size, allowing better movement of the crowds among the approximately 100 vendors once the market is in full swing. For a view of the new set up, visit Portland Farmers Market's interactive map.

The weather was amazing and it was such a pleasure to once again wander around the market planning my purchases and dreaming of the dinners that would come out of them. Its been a very mild winter here and everything has blossomed early so there were plenty of blooms scattered among the veggies, fruit, herbs, meat,honey, fish, dairy, wine, nuts, and juice brightening up the already sunny morning.

Colorful Ranunculus

I bought a bunch of White Lion Double Head Daffodils from Laurel Valley Farm and they have already frangranced my entire living room.

Assorted mushrooms from Springwater Farm

Fiddlehead ferns.

Miner's lettuce

Stinging nettles

It was really difficult to pass up these cinnamon rolls for my future breakfast date with the husband who was still sleeping at home.

Herb starters

I will, of course, have to miss the market next week as I'll be running the big 32.4.32 birthday run, but am so happy I will once again be able to make it a part of my week.

2010 Shamrock Run

Event: Portland's 32nd Annual Shamrock Run - March 14, 2010

Number of Participants for all events: 21,000

Course: 15K Start by the cherry blossoms on the waterfront,



through SW downtown,



up a few miles of wooded hill near Council Crest by way of Terwilliger for views of Mt. Hood,



smooth sail down Barbur to finish on the waterfront.

I have no idea who those people are.

Soundtrack: U2, The Pogues, The Frames and The White Stripes (I know, technically not Irish, but I like running to them).

Post Race Recovery Treats: Salmon Chowder and a Widmer Heffewiezen, my favorite post run beer...lucky me!

The Shirt Off My Back

I am getting really excited about my big run. I was finally able to complete my 27 mile training run without injury on Saturday (yay!) and am now looking ahead to the big day on March 27 when I will devote the better part of the day completing 32 miles in Forest Park.

Most of this run will be done on the Wildwood trail, a narrow, often muddy trail that winds its way from the far reaches of Forest Park's northern end at Newberry Road all the way to its southern end in Washington Park. I'll then travel down through Washington Park to make up the 1.75 or so miles and end at the Elephant House, triumphant. Or at least standing.

Of course, I couldn’t do any of this without two very important entities: The Forest Park Conservancy who preserve, protect and restore Forest Park’s 5,000 acres for the use and benefit of all who live in and visit Portland and OPB, who provide the sound track for most of my runs. Without Forest Park Conservancy and OPB I would probably be stuck on a treadmill listening to the gym pump a mash up of Avril Lavigne and The Blackeyed Peas into the recycled air, in which case, I doubt my distances would have made it into the double digits.

So, I want to say thanks to them. I’ve come up with this t-shirt design below and will be sporting one during my run on the 27th. If anyone else would like to order one, I’ll be splitting all the proceeds from the shirt between OPB and FPC. Please help me support them support me and pick up a shirt in the process! Email me at sarah@droppedlollipop.com to place your order by March 17.




Shirt info:

Two color design printed on a blue shirt to match the blue diamond that shows its pretty face every quarter mile on the Wildwood Trail. The horizon line in the design is the trail’s elevation profile.

Cost: $20

Sizes: Men’s or Women’s S-XL. Cut is similar to that of American Apparel and the material is 100% ring spun cotton.

Printer: Inkbrigade – Portland printer dedicated to environmentally friendly practices.

Deadline for orders: March 17. Let me know the size shirt you would like and I’ll place the order and collect payment upon delivery. For those of you who are outside the Portland area, we will make the appropriate individual delivery arrangements.

Red Rocks and White Snow

Normally, I'm not a fan of road trips. Sitting in a car for hours on end, sucking down large amounts of water just to have an excuse to stop and stretch your legs every so often, praying that a music shop will be advertising a sale on xylophones just so you can get to the end of the damn alphabet game and really hoping that the dog in the back of the pick up truck in front of you going 45 miles an hour on the two lane highway will not jump to his demise right in front is not my idea of a good time.

But the trip we took in late February from Albuquerque back to our home in Portland turned out to be allot of fun. I think it was the balance of fried chicken and skiing, ice cream and running that made the trip worth while. I tend to get very antsy if I have to sit for a very long time and I am absolutely miserable to be around if I have to go more than a day or two without running or some other form of exercise. With four days of skiing alternated with runs through mountain towns (and the Vegas strip), our trip from Albuquerque to Sedona, the Grand Canyon, Las Vegas, Park City, Boise, Bend to Portland turned out to be more fun than I could have predicted.


Some pictures, below, in no particular order.




















The Red Rocks in Sedona.




















The Pinball Hall of Fame...my favorite thing about Vegas. Screw the glitz and opulence of big gaming rooms and high roller restaurants, give me a roll of quarters and a can of Sunkist orange soda and I'm good to go.




















A golden calf (or two) along the road in Arizona.



The majesty that is the Grand Canyon (when the tour buses finally move out of the way).




















If you look closely, you can see the eagle in Eagle Point.



























A lone blackbird and overcast skies in Sedona.






















The Hoover Dam at twilight.





















Finn loves the hills just outside of Boise on the way to Bogus Basin. We did too...especially for the night skiing!






















Oregon's own Mt. Bachelor...only three hours from home.






















A gorgeous day welcomed J home to Oregon...temps in the mid 50s, plenty of sun and no wind on the Mt. Bachelor.

More of a slide than a run...

Shortly after I woke up that morning, I knew it was going to be a messy day. While Saturday had been relatively dry though overcast, Sunday morning greeted me with the sound of water pouring through the gutters onto the brick walkway outside my bedroom window.

I was pretty psyched.

I can't really explain it, but the rain is a big motivator when I run. Perhaps because it never gets too cold here to run in the rain, or maybe its because I end up feeling like a bit of a badass, or maybe its that great post shower feeling of still cold but warming up that is reminiscent of days in early March in Georgia when my brother and I would brave the chilly water of our pool and follow up by watching Beetlejuice wrapped up in blankets on the living room couch.

Lately, I've been thinking its the mud.

On Sunday, I set out to do 27 miles, the longest distance I have yet to run. I packed up my Hydrapak, grabbed some GU, downloaded the most recent podcasts from my favorite shows and called a cab.

The cabbie took me out past the St. John's bridge (above). It was partly obscured by low lying clouds and I knew that most of my run would be spent in the quiet cover of fog. The rain had slowed to a drizzle as we approached the Wildwood trailhead on Germantown Road and I happily took off my rain jacket and stuffed it into my pack. I paid the cabbie and ran off into the woods.

It was pretty sloppy. And while the puddles and muck made the downhills a bit of a thrill ride, it was hard work and I was reduced to a walk through many of the more treacherous parts. It was slow going. Then, around three and a half hours of it, I passed the 18 mile marker and slipped and twisted to the side. My right leg gave out and I felt a great strain in my quad. No good.

I had strained my quad two nights previous in a less than exciting adventure that involved squatting down to put food in the dog's bowl. That morning, I hadn't felt the strain at all, so I went out with positive thoughts that I could make it through the run.

I guess I was wrong.

I was very disappointed. I had to chose to ride it out with the possibility that I wouldn't be able to move the next day or to cut it short. Because J and I have a big roadtrip planned for next week with heaps of skiing, I opted to bail. This was the first time that I would not be able to finish a distance I set out to achieve. I finished up the half mile of trail and the 1.5 miles home for a total of only 20 miles. I know that's still a decent distance, but falling so short of my goal left me feeling like I had hardly done anything at all.

This is especially disappointing since I didn't even make it to my favorite part of the trail that winds through the redwoods with big climbs and steep downhills that give me the sense of skiing without snow as I careen down them.

But, perhaps it was for the best. I want to be in the best shape for our ski-athon next week and I really don't think my shoes could have handled too much more mud.