Writing this blog has been full of slap-upside-the-head, "D'oh!" moments over the years. There was the time someone mentioned making a stock from leftover corn cobs. And another time when I discovered how simple it was—not to mention how much more delicious it tastes—to make your own peanut butter. (Got five minutes and a blender?)

I'm constantly asking myself: How could it have taken me so long to figure this stuff out?

So this last week I decided to make a big pan of lasagne, something I've done a zillion times before. A few years ago I would have bought a container of ricotta and slathered it on the next-to-the-top layer to give a creamy, oozy richness to this Italian-American classic. But when Dave developed a problem with dairy, and with lactose-free commercial ricotta not readily available, I had to eschew that particular ingredient for several years.

Then I read somewhere that it was super easy to make your own at home. D'oh!

While, according to my friend and cookbood author Nancy Harmon-Jenkins, traditional Italian ricotta is made from the recooked whey left over from cheesemaking (ri-cotta means "recooked"), another method makes a delicious fresh cheese that's as good or better than most store-bought brands. With the availability of organic lactose-free whole milk (thank you, Organic Valley), all it requires is lemon juice and salt!

I tried it, fiddled with the timing a bit to get the texture I wanted and, like magic, the creamy softness was back in our lives. And it's so dang easy, I can guarantee that it's going to start showing up on crostini, mixed in pasta and dolloped on salads.

Homemade Ricotta-Style Cheese

For 1 cup ricotta (double to make 2 cups):

4 c. whole milk
1/3 c. fresh-squeezed lemon juice
1 tsp. salt

In a saucepan, heat milk over medium heat (you don’t want to heat it too quickly). Stirring occasionally to keep it from scalding and measuring often with an instant read thermometer, bring milk to 200°.  When it reaches 200°, remove from heat and add lemon juice and salt. Stir a couple of times to combine and let it sit for 5 minutes. (You'll notice it start to curdle and separate.)

While it’s sitting, put cheesecloth or a cloth jelly bag in a fine mesh strainer over a large bowl. Pour the contents of the pan into the lined strainer and drain, making sure to save the watery whey (see note, below). Depending on how dry you want your ricotta to be, let it sit for two to 20 minutes. Draining it for a shorter time will give you creamier ricotta, while waiting the full time will result in a dry texture. When it's reached your desired texture, taste it for salt and adjust.

NOTE: Save the whey (the watery liquid left after draining) and feed it to your chickens or pigs. If you don't have livestock, don't worry—you can feed it to your family, as well! It's very nutritious and is great added to soups, stews and sauces that benefit from a slight milkiness. (Think chowders, or a potato-leek soup.) One reader said she used the leftover whey to cook pork loin in the crock pot for pulled pork, which confirms what I'd read about the acids in the whey helping to break down meat. I've used it to make carnitas, and it worked fabulously. Try it!

Even in the coldest months we keep our house at a moderate 66 degrees, both to save energy and money, though I've been known to sneak it up a degree (to 67!) if the chill begins to seep too far into my bones even under several layers of clothing.

In the past couple of days our furnace kicked on for the first time this fall, which inevitably signals the beginning of serious soup, stew and braising season around here. Warming from the inside out, not just filling growling bellies, is the point of setting down a steaming bowl in front of my family, and we keep them in regular rotation through the cold months.

Some soups and stews benefit from spending hours melding their flavors in a big pot on the stove, filling the house with an aroma that promises something hearty and mouthwatering to come. Others can come together in less than 30 minutes—I see you Creamy Tomato Soup and your cousin, Split Pea—or can be made ahead to serve when the need arises. The stew below is one of those, quick to make but one that is equally happy to simmer on the stovetop or even wait in the freezer for its debut.

Since I now have homemade kimchi on hand, it's a handy solution for one of those I-don't-feel-like-cooking nights when inspiration and/or time are in short supply. If you don't make your own kimchi, I heartily recommend locally produced Choi's Kimchi or those available at local farmers' markets.

This recipe calls for pork belly, but it's also fantastic with smoked bacon, shredded leftover chicken or even no meat at all. Exquisitely flavored, it needs nothing more than the addition of fluffy rice to make a company-worthy feast.

Kimchi Stew

Adapted from Susana Holloway

2 Tbsp. vegetable oil
1/2 lb. pork belly, in 1/4" dice
1/2 onion, diced
3-4 cloves garlic, minced
2 c. (1 pint) napa cabbage kimchi
4 c. chicken stock
1 block firm tofu, cut in 1/2" dice
1 Tbsp. fish sauce
Salt and pepper to taste
Chopped cilantro or sliced green onions for garnish (optional)

Heat vegetable oil in a soup pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. When the oil shimmers, add the pork belly. When it has rendered most of its fat, add onions and sauté until tender, then add garlic. When garlic is warmed, add in kimchi and stock, bring to a simmer and cook on low heat for about 30 minutes. Add tofu and fish sauce and simmer for a final 5-7 minutes to warm tofu through. Season to taste with salt and pepper if needed and garnish with cilantro or green onions if desired.

Some of the Oregon's richest farmland and the state's nationally heralded land use laws are under attack due a measure passed by the state legislature in its 2023 session. Ostensibly SB 4 was meant to provide grants and loans that semiconductor companies could access to acquire and develop land for new facilities and carry out research. These companies could then use that money as a gateway to apply for some of the $52 billion available in the federal government's 2022 CHIPS and Science Act to bolster domestic semiconductor manufacturing.

So far, that makes sense, right? Spend a little and possibly gain a lot of new business from a burgeoning industry.

What's alarming farmers, advocates and land use watchdogs is the second part of SB 4 that gives Governor Kotek sweeping powers to unilaterally shift a city's urban growth boundaries (UGBs) without a public process and no assessment of impacts on public utilities—semiconductor facilities use vast amounts of water and electricity—area farmers, the food system, and the environment. Then there's the influence that monied developers could potentially have on susceptible city and state officials. (But that wouldn't happen here in Oregon, right? Right?)

The website Friends of Smart Growth, established to promote a holistic, responsible, longterm approach to the state's lands, states that "Oregon’s working lands are imperiled, nowhere more so than in Washington County. Right now the city of Hillsboro has asked the governor to use her supposed authority under SB 4 to circumvent land use laws, good planning, and the public process to add 373 acres of first class farmland that are classified 'rural reserves' for the next 35-plus years."

Furthermore, "it allows the governor to unilaterally bring our farms, ranches, forests, and watersheds into urban areas with no guarantee that it will result in high-quality jobs for Oregonians or that it would leverage federal funding to the state. There is also no requirement for the governor to look first to the lands available inside UGBs," according to 1000 Friends of Oregon.

ACTION ITEM: Friends of Smart Growth is asking farmers, eaters, residents and lovers of Oregon's working and wild spaces to sign a petition urging the public to protect the state's farmlands and respect the land use system that has built a vibrant and livable Oregon. Sign it here.

UPDATE: Friends of Smart Growth has sent out a notice about a public meeting with Gov. Kotek at 6 pm on Thursday, October 10, at the Hillsboro Civic Center. It is the one opportunity the public will have to express an opinion on this issue. Members of the public can testify in person or virtually (information here). There is also a rally starting at 5 pm outside the center. The public can submit written testimony by Oct. 30 by e-mail or by mailing a letter to 900 Court Street Suite 255 Salem, OR 97301.

Issues to mention are:

• Hillsboro already has the land: There are 10,000 acres of industrial land inside existing UGBs, including hundreds of acres of large lots in Hillsboro.
• Hillsboro would have had more land if it hadn't squandered hundreds of acres on wasteful data centers.
• Residents will likely ultimately pay for a lot of the increased cost of water and infrastructure for this expansion.
• The facility does not need this much land: a similar facility in New York takes up just 73 acres.
• At stake is some of the best farmland in the world: it can grow anything while sequestering carbon and providing habitat.
• Intel should not receive more giveaways: Intel got $8.5 billion in federal CHIPS Act dollars this year and $800 million in state property tax breaks over 5 years, but is laying off 15% of its workforce. Intel's success doesn't depend on 373 acres of farmland.
• The process is undemocratic: There is only one hearing, details are posted only 1 week beforehand, and appeals are severely limited. 

Top photo from Friends of Smart Growth. Photo of semiconductor facility from Wikipedia.

Right now our farmers' markets are flooded with a plethora of colorful chile pepper pods, and since September 15th through October 15th is National Hispanic Heritage Month, it's the perfect time to explore these beautiful and flavorful members of the capsicum family. Fortunately, Ginger Rapport of the Beaverton Farmers Market just sent out a primer in their current newsletter!

One of the ingredients that almost all Hispanic cuisines have in common is chile peppers.

Chile vs. Chili: According to Chef Mark Miller, author of the The Great Chile Book, the generally accepted convention is that "chile" refers to the plant or pod while "chili" refers to the dish made from meat and chiles. The name pepper is a misnomer that has existed since Christopher Columbus encountered capsicum plants and erroneously thought that he had found the plant that produces black pepper, which has no relation to capsicum. However, the name pepper is still used interchangeably with chile.

The chemical in chile peppers that gives them heat is capsaicin which is technically a neurotoxin. It stimulates the adrenal glands to release hormones, which theoretically creates an energy rush. The fiery sensation you feel also triggers the brain to produce endorphins, natural painkillers that promote a sense of well-being and stimulation. They can also make you sweat, which is your body’s natural air conditioner. This may explain why chiles figure prominently in cuisines in and around the tropics.

Depending upon whether you like them hot, mild, or somewhere in between, you will want to make informed decisions when purchasing chiles. The first thing that you should know is that the heat level in a chile is rated on a scale known as the "Scoville Heat Index." Invented by Wilbur Scoville, it ranks chiles in order from mildest to hottest in Scoville Heat Units (SHU), with zero being the mildest and the hottest being over a million. In general, the smaller the chile, the hotter it is. Below is a guide to the most common chiles found at farmers' markets. Scoville rankings* are included for each. Most of the heat is located in the seeds and white ribs inside. Removing the seeds and ribs, using only the flesh of the chile ,will give you all of the flavor and less of the heat.

Keep in mind that you should use gloves when handling the hottest peppers to avoid irritating your skin. It is important that you do not touch anything, especially your face—we know this from experience—before disposing of the gloves and washing your hands thoroughly.

Other peppers you will find in the market:

Padron Peppers: Scoville 500-2,500. Originally from Spain, they are harvested young and small, they typically have no seeds. This makes them mild, perfect for eating whole. Farmers tell us that about one in every 12 will be surprisingly hot and there is no way to know which one packs the extra punch, but take a nibble of the very tip to get an idea of how hot it is. Prepare by sautéing in olive oil until it is blistered and serve sprinkled with salt.

Shishito Peppers: Scoville 50-200. Popular in Japan, these are very similar to Padron peppers. Serve them sautéed with a drizzle of soy sauce and sesame oil. Very tasty in tempura.

Habanada: Scoville 0 (yes, zero). Bred by well-known organic plant breeder Michael Mazourek of Cornell University, these exceptional snacking peppers have all of the fruity and floral notes of the habanero without any spice (even the seeds are sweet and add to the flavor).

* Scoville rankings are often given in a range because varieties and growing conditions vary.

Photo of peppers from BFM newsletter, courtesy Shannon Feltus, Urban Farm Foods.

Before Blue Apron and Hello Fresh, there were Hamburger Helper and Swanson's frozen dinners. Even before that, when I was growing up, when my father didn't have time to hunt down a brontosaurus à la Fred Flintstone, my mother made do with Campbell's cream of mushroom soup and an arsenal of Lipton's dehydrated products. Spanish rice, tuna casserole and pot roast were her go-to dinners, egged on by the women's magazines of the day like the Ladies Home Journal that gave busy homemakers tips on "quick dinners your family will love!"

Tamale pie was one of those dinner solutions, though in the days when most Americans considered spaghetti sauce "spicy food," its call for the addition of chili powder—actually a spice mix containing paprika, cumin, garlic powder, onion powder, oregano and maybe cayenne—was a bridge too far for many. But my dad loved him some zing, so my mom would occasionally pep up her dinner rotation with chili powder-inflected goulash or tacos with hot sauce.

I'd been looking for a tamale pie recipe for those times when I'm feeling a bit of nostalgia for the casserole dinners of my childhood, and recently a friend shared one that brought back a flood of cornmeal-scented, cheesy memories. Updated with a few adaptations using local cornmeal and pasture-raised beef, locally grown and roasted tomatoes and some tangy sharp cheddar from Organic Valley, it fit the bill perfectly. I hope it will for you, too!

Tamale Pie

2 Tbsp. vegetable oil
1 onion
2 poblano peppers, chopped in 1/4” dice
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 1/2 lbs. ground meat (beef, chicken or turkey)
2 c. roasted tomatoes
2 c. corn kernels
1/2 c. chicken stock
2 tsp. ancho chile powder
1 tsp. ground cumin
1 c. cornmeal
1 c. grated cheddar or jack cheese
Salt to taste

Preheat oven to 350°.

Heat oil in large skillet over medium high heat. (If using a cast iron skillet, you can bake the casserole in it, as well.) When it shimmers, add ground meat and sauté until the meat is browned. Add onion and sauté until tender, about 3 minutes. Add garlic and pepper and sauté until softened, about 5 minutes. Add chile powder and cumin and stir briefly, then add tomatoes, corn kernels and broth. Bring to a simmer. Salt to taste.

While meat mixture simmers, bring 2 cups water to a boil. Slowly add cornmeal, stirring vigorously to prevent lumps. Continue cooking and stirring until it becomes quite thick. Add 1 teaspoon salt, or to taste. Stir cornmeal mixture into other ingredients. Put mixture into casserole (if you are using a cast iron skillet, you can bake the casserole in this). Sprinkle cheese over the top and bake about 30 minutes.

My family loves jam—Dave's homemade sourdough toasted in our old-school two-slice toaster is most of the reason—so this time of year I make a lot of it. And I'm talking about gallons of the stuff, enough to last us until the fruit ripens again next summer. So far this summer alone I've made raspberry, marionberry, strawberry, blackberry and two kinds of plum jam, with Dave's special citrus marmalade rounding out the selection.

I'm not confident enough to start playing around with spices to my repertoire, and I do love the forthright flavors of the fruits all by themselves. There are those who make exotic combinations like plum cardamom or apricot chanterelle, both from my friend Jennifer Bright, my polestar for preserving ideas—see this recipe for Prune Plum Jam with Fennel Seed for a taste. (Her blog Culinaria Eugenius, from her previous life in Eugene, is a trove of recipes and inspiration.)

This summer I did have a breakthrough when I ran across a blog called Divas Can Cook by Monique Kilgore, which she describes as centering on African-American Southern Cuisine. Her recipe for strawberry jam without pectin describes a technique calling for combining the fruit with sugar, warming it to melt the sugar, then bringing it to a rolling boil until it reaches 220 degrees. Done!

For me this eliminates the "will it set" problem of either runny preserves or a set that is too hard (and probably overcooked), plus the hassle of the plate-in-the-freezer, is-it-done guesswork. I've now used her technique with all the fruit jams I've made so far and they've all been exactly the right not-too-runny, not-too-thick consistency we love—Goldilocks would be so pleased! So thanks to Monique for setting me on the right path.

Fruit Jam

Adapted from Divas Can Cook by Monique Kilgore

So far I've used this technique to make strawberry, blackberry, marionberry, raspberry and plum preserves with excellent results.

1 lb. fresh fruit
1 1/4 c. sugar
1-2 Tbsp. fresh-squeezed lemon juice

Combine fruit with sugar and lemon juice in a large pot or Dutch oven. (If you have more than one pound of fruit, I use the same proportions as above for sugar and lemon juice.) Allow the fruit to sit and macerate for 15 minutes, then place over medium heat and simmer for 15 minutes until the sugar melts completely. (Kilgore mashes the fruit at this point for an even consistency, but I like my jam to have some texture so I skip that step.)

When the sugar has melted, turn up the heat and bring the fruit to a rolling boil and continue cooking until the temperature of the jam reaches 220 degrees. At that point transfer the jam to clean glass jars. If you're freezing the jam, simply allow it to cool to room temperature and transfer to your freezer. If you want shelf-stable jam, process the sealed jars in a water-bath canner following the canner directions.

Love figs? Get my recipe for a spectacular Balsamic Fig Jam that is amazing with cheeses or on toast.

This week's newsletter from the Beaverton Farmers Market is all about the colorful, luscious pears you'll see lovingly displayed in vendors' market booths, and I thought this one was so simple and uncomplicated that it deserved sharing here.

Decadent Pear

"Marketgoers love his apples, but they also love him for his amazing pears," wrote Market Master Ginger Rapport of Thompson Farms' Lynn Thompson. "Lynn is always welcoming and was happy to share his favorite pear recipe which he lovingly calls 'Decadent Pear.'"

4 sweet red pears
4 Tbsp. of brown sugar
4 Tbsp. of butter
4 strips of bacon, fried until crisp then crumbled

Halve the pears and hollow out the centers.

Spoon 1/2 tablespoon each of butter and brown sugar into each half, and microwave them for a minute to soften the pears.

Top with crumbled bacon and broil for a couple of minutes to crisp up the glaze.

Waaaaay back in 2017, I began writing about the violations at the famously notorious and now-shuttered Lost Valley Farm. It was later sold to the massive Easterday farming operation before that collapsed, as well. In what turned out to be a prescient warning, I quoted an op-ed by Dr. Nathan Donley, a senior scientist in the Portland office of the Center for Biological Diversity, who wrote:

“The new Lost Valley [Farm] operation will generate as much waste as a small city that will be stored largely in open-air lagoons, then disposed of on fields. Without adequate oversight, there can be no question that every time the state approves a new factory farm it will be opening the door to dangerous health risks—not only for workers but for all those families unfortunate enough to have no choice but to breathe the air around those facilities.”

Tellingly, the problems began when the new owner of the former tree farm, Greg te Velde, cleared the land and started construction of the facility before it was even permitted. Despite that big red flag, permits to operate were issued by the state Dept. of Agriculture (ODA) and Dept. of Environment Quality (DEQ). 

Originally permitted to milk 30,000 cows, it was considered a state-of-the-art facility, but due to the erratic actions of te Velde, it never came close to housing that number of cows and was closed due to criminal charges against its owner and hundreds of violations of its permits.

In a 2019 post about the subsequent sale of the property, I asked, "Who would be crazy enough to buy a facility that will require millions of dollars to clean up and more millions to install a new irrigation system…with some 47 million gallons of liquid manure still remaining onsite—which one source estimated would fill 71 Olympic swimming pools?"

Well, that turned out to be the Easterday family, who renamed it Easterday Dairy, then pulled the plug on their plans after four years of what can only be called Shakespearian-level drama. A partial list includes:

• A massive fraud operation dubbed "Cattlegate" perpetrated by Cody Easterday, scion of the Easterday family enterprises, in which he claimed to be feeding 200,000 cattle owned by Tyson Fresh Meats but, in fact, the cattle existed only on paper and were created to cover up Easterday's losses on the commodities market.
• The death of Cody's father, wealthy cattleman Gale Easterday, who died shortly after the fraud was revealed when he drove his car the wrong way on the freeway near his ranch, running head-on into an 18-wheeler hauling Easterday potatoes.
• Many of the Easterday businesses declared bankruptcy in 2021 and most of the family’s massive farm and ranch empire was auctioned off. 
• Cody was sentenced to 11 years in a federal penitentiary in California in 2022 for the fraud against Tyson.
• The ODA handed down a notice of noncompliance in April of 2023 to Cody's son Cole, who was put in charge of the dairy after his father's scam came to light, detailing more than 60 violations ranging from fertilizer spills to irrigation runoff to misapplications of manure on the dairy's property.
• Oregon Public Broadcasting (OPB) reported in August of 2023 that Cody Easterday and his wife owed the Internal Revenue Service more than $12.5 million in personal taxes, which has issued a lien against their assets.

In early 2023 the Easterdays reached an agreement with the former landowner, Canyon Farms, which is managed by Fall Line Capital, a California-based venture capital firm, in a $14 million lawsuit over how the land was being managed. In mid-August of that year it appeared that Easterday Dairy and Canyon Farms had come to an agreement to sell the property back to the California-based company.

OPB reported that in April of this year, Fall Line had asked to decommission the site as a Confined Animal Feeding Operation (CAFO). According to OPB, "while ODA has granted the request [to decommission the plant], three monitoring wells at the site still show elevated nitrate concentrations above 'background limits' or [has] nitrate levels from before the site was permitted as a CAFO. [The ODA's] Stapleton said the owner is required to bring the wells back into compliance and report monthly samples to ODA."

According to Tarah Heinzen, an attorney for Food and Water Watch, the industrial dairy should never have been permitted in the first place since it is located on a federal Groundwater Management Area (GWMA). "This is an area where people are exposed to unsafe drinking water in part because factory farms and other big ag polluters are contributing nitrates to an already polluted aquifer,” she said. “It [did] not make sense to allow a new source of nitrates into a groundwater management area.”

Even though nitrates are universally acknowledged as extremely hazardous for humans to consume, current nitrate levels in monitoring wells in the GWMA are well over federal maximums. Despite decades of remediation efforts, levels have not shown any decrease and, in fact, the entire aquifer in the area on the banks of the Columbia River is now contaminated. Decades of inaction on the part of regulators has caused residents in the affected counties to sue polluters in federal court.

"The ODA is requiring Canyon Farms to bring the monitoring wells below background limits, yet Oregon has a self-imposed goal to bring nitrate levels in groundwater management areas to seven milligrams per liter or less. The background limits for two of the wells are 15 and 19 milligrams per liter respectively," according to OPB's reporting.

“They need to require that the nitrates are lowered to a health-based limit of seven milligrams per liter, not the so-called 'background levels' that are currently in the plan,” Heinzen said. “We want to see this actually achieve results that are safe for public health and those who might be impacted in their wells down-gradient of this operation.”

The ODA has not yet clarified why it isn't requiring Canyon Farms to bring nitrate levels to the lower levels in its goals.

It seems that Dr. Donley's warning back in 2017was prescient, indeed.

Read "Why I'm Quitting Tillamook Cheese" about mega-dairies in Oregon and "Big Milk, Big Issues for Local Communities" about the real costs to our state of these industrial factory farms.

Photo of Lost Valley cows from ODA; photo of Cody Easterday from Capital Press; photo of Cody at his sentencing from KUOW.

It was like a tingling between my shoulder blades that I couldn't quite reach. The niggling thought in my brain had been amorphous at first, as elusive as a phantom, but it had the unmistakable flavor profile of the homemade gochujang from my friend Denise's family.

It was even a little scary, a crossing of lines if you will, kind of like the kimchi risotto that I made during the pandemic, trying to use what was in our pantry so we didn't have to make a trip to the store. But with this there wasn't that excuse, since I had everything on hand that I would need. Plus, really, the likelihood of an inedible culinary disaster was remote—my family will pretty much eat anything, exclaiming "tasty!" as they chow down.

So, to cut to the chase, an attempt at making gochujang mac'n'cheese had been on my mind for awhile. Sure, I've made various iterations of the classic cheesy noodle casserole from versions laced with salmon, Dungeness crab, pimento cheese, even one with a Tex-Mex twist. But a Korean-inflected version somehow seemed like a bridge too far—call me a drama queen, but it gave me the willies.

Maybe it was the idea of combining cheese with the chiles, fish sauce, sesame oil and miso in the gochujang. But we'd been making kimchi quesadillas—with cheese and the pickled, chile-laced cabbage—for lunch since I'd been making my own kimchi. What was there to be nervous about?

When I ran across a mention of a panko, gochugaru and sesame oil topping that would give the top a nice crunch, suddenly the clouds cleared, the sun came out and all seemed right with the world. I'd still caution the curious to be aware that this is not your mother's mac'n'cheese or anything that Annie or Mr. Newman would put in a box, but it's pretty awesome, if I do say so myself.

Gochujang Macaroni and Cheese

For the topping:
3 Tbsp. Panko
1 Tbsp. gochugaru
2 Tbsp. toasted sesame seeds
1 Tbsp. toasted sesame oil
1/2 tsp. salt

For the casserole:
1 lb. dried pasta (we like penne or rigatoni)
4 Tbsp. butter
4 Tbsp. flour
1 Tbsp. garlic, minced
2 c. milk
8 oz. sharp cheddar cheese, grated
8 oz. cream cheese
3 Tbsp. gochujang
Salt and pepper to taste

Bring a large pot of salted water to boil.

While water is heating, combine the topping ingredients in a small bowl. Set aside.

Over medium heat, melt butter in medium-sized saucepan. Remove from burner and add flour, stirring to combine. Place saucepan back on burner and cook on low heat for 1 minute, stirring constantly. Add garlic and stir briefly. Add milk gradually, stirring until it begins to thicken, then add cheese in handfuls, stirring after each addition until melted. Add cream cheese and stir until sauce is thick and creamy, then stir in gochujang. Add salt and pepper to taste. (The sauce should be slightly saltier than you'd normally make it, since when combined with the pasta it will tend to make it taste less salty.)

Add pasta to boiling water and cook until al dente. Drain and put back in pasta pot, add cheese sauce and stir gently to combine. Transfer to baking dish, sprinkling the topping mixture evenly over it. Bake in 350 degree oven 30 minutes.

The following popped into my e-mail in-box and, with his usual tell-it-like-it-is directness, Bruce Bauer—longtime readers know him as my (much) younger brother—made the big announcement:

"This is a tough email to start so I’m jumping in the deep end and letting you know that after an incredibly rewarding, at times frustrating, yet so f*cking fulfilling 25 year run here at the wine shack I’m going to be selling VINO and retiring (apparently I’m older than I think I am 😬). I've gotta admit I'm feeling a bit out of my element with the impending change, but also excited in so many ways. Now I hear y’all going, “But what about us?,” and I just want you to know I’ve found a great buyer, someone I’ve known for years in the business, who couldn’t be more perfect to take over and take VINO to the next level."

Why am I posting about my brother's wine shop on this blog that's about local food, you might ask?

Well, without his inspiration I might well have never started Good Stuff NW, much less become a writer. You see, I was a freelance advertising art director at the time, helping clients with their branding and marketing and just dipping my toe into this new medium called the World Wide Web. It was 2006 and my baby brother was on a whirlwind tour of France and Spain, writing about all the amazing food and drink he was stumbling across via a platform called Blogger. Needless to say, his always-engaging writing was a draw, of course, but so was the idea of this easy-to-use new medium. (You can read more about my writing journey here.)

But back to Vino.

He'd always been a crazy smart kid who had an uncanny knack for relating to all kinds of people—I've consistently said he got all the "nice" genes in the family—so when he started a career as a lumber broker I thought, "Good for him, he'll make lots of money and be secure," while the big sister part of me was thinking, "He's so much more talented and creative…I hope he's happy."

Fortunately that only lasted a few years, whereupon he co-founded Shakers Café in the the early 90s in the nascent, not-yet-named Pearl District in Northwest Portland. Smashingly successful with lines out the door for breakfast and lunch—its tagline "If Your Mother Could Cook" perfectly summed up its take on homemade classics—he also began broadly exploring what would become his passion for lesser-known European, American and, particularly, Northwest wines.

He eventually sold the café, launching his first wine shop on Southeast Hawthorne called Portland Wine Merchants, which was followed not much later with the opening of County Cork, an Irish-themed pub on Hawthorne—coincidentally (and somewhat spookily) also the site of our paternal grandfather's moving business back in the 1930s—which eventually relocated to Northeast Fremont.

Bruce sold the Hawthorne wine shop to his business partner and opened Vino in the Sellwood neighborhood, which just before the turn of the millenium was a quiet street populated by antique stores and not much street traffic. He quickly drew in a crowd of regulars, fans from his Hawthorne shop as well as appreciative neighborhood folk drawn to his affordable selection, extensive knowledge and lack of pretense on the subject, who were very excited to have a place to gather on Fridays for wine tastings.

The move to its current location on Northeast 28th wasn't without some fraught moments—moving to a promising new neighborhood but leaving the community that had built up around the shop was not easy—but it proved to be both timely and prescient. The street soon exploded with notable small restaurants, bars, a food cart pod and many small businesses, with Vino benefitting from the increased street traffic as well as the new outdoor courtyard for tastings.

As Bruce wrote in wrapping up his e-mail, "It’s been amazing and I can’t say strongly enough how much better my life has been because of you guys and what you helped VINO become. Thank you for coming along for the ride!"

Photo of yours truly at a Vino wine tasting many moons ago courtesy Laurie Harquail.