During the holiday season my parents would invariably designate one evening before Christmas to invite friends over for an open house. My mom, a dedicated holiday baker, used the occasion to haul out all the fruitcakes she'd made—one packed with whole nuts and citron barely held together with batter, an applesauce bread studded with nuts and raisins, another cakey version that had been wrapped in a brandy-soaked cloth—plus cookies filled with jam, pinwheels stuffed with dates, and her signature Nanaimo bars that I'd eat by the dozen, all displayed on holiday-themed platters.

My dad made sure the bar was well-stocked, but his main task was to dig out the Tom & Jerry set from the basement and pull out the recipe card from the file, dog-eared, faded and stained from literally decades of Christmas parties past. On the day of the party, as Mom ran around the house in a frenzy, inspecting (and often redoing) my lackadaisical dusting and vacuuming and fussing over the table decorations of carefully arranged boughs studded with shiny glass Christmas ornaments. My dad would start making the batter for his Tom & Jerrys.

I don't remember any of their friends making this classic holiday drink, but it was a staple at our house growing up. Dad, who in my memory almost never spent time in the kitchen, would carefully separate the egg whites from the yolks, beat the whites into glossy peaks, then gradually fold in the yolks that had been beaten with powdered sugar and whipping cream. I was particularly fascinated with the teensy brown glass bottles of cinnamon and clove oil that had no doubt been around for years, since the batter only required a drop of each to flavor it. He'd dip a toothpick into the little bottle and pull it out, a shimmering drop of oil clinging to it, and ever so carefully let it drip into the batter.

By this point Mom would have vanished upstairs to get dressed and put on lipstick—bright red—to match her holly-trimmed holiday apron, and Dad would be mixing the rum and brandy and putting the kettle on for topping off the cups. It's memories like these that, whenever the holidays roll around and the cold starts to creep in through the cracks around our doors and windows, you'll find me heading down to the basement to dig out our own Tom & Jerry set, start whipping egg whites and inviting the neighbors over.

Over the years I've collected a few recipes for holiday cocktails, and now seemed like a good opportunity to share them with you. Enjoy, and start making memories for you and yours!

My Dad’s Tom & Jerrys

For the batter:
6 eggs
Pinch of cream of tartar
1 lb. powdered sugar
1 drop oil of cinnamon
1 drop oil of clove
1/2 c. whipping cream

For each drink:
1 jigger (1.5 oz.) brandy
1/2 jigger (.75 oz.) rum
2 Tbsp. batter
Boiling water

Dash of fresh-ground nutmeg.

Separate eggs, putting yolks into large mixing bowl and whites into another bowl large enough to whip them in. Add cream of tartar to whites and whip into stiff peaks.

Beat egg yolks to combine and add cinnamon oil, clove oil and whipping cream. Beat, gradually adding powdered sugar till the mixture is thick and smooth. Add whipped egg white and slowly fold them into each other till you have a smooth, light batter.

To make drinks, put brandy, rum and batter into each cup (ours are 6-oz. cups), fill with boiling water and stir. Top with a sprinkle of ground nutmeg. For the kids, make Clyde & Harrys—simply leave out the alcohol and combine the batter and hot water and stir, topping with the nutmeg.

* Oils available at many natural foods stores. Just make sure they're food grade.

Ann and Chad's Hot Toddies

1 slice lemon, 1/8" thick
1 cinnamon stick
3 whole cloves
Pinch of fresh ground nutmeg
1 1/2 oz. whiskey (your choice)
2 oz. boiling water
1 tsp. honey

Place lemon in bottom of a mug or heat-resistant cup. With a muddler or the back of a spoon, crush the lemon gently to release its juices. Add the remaining ingredients and stir to combine.

Rodrigo's Cola de Mono (Tail of a Monkey)

This is a traditional Chilean Christmas drink, usually served cold. Best made a couple of days ahead.

3 qts. whole milk
4 c. of sugar
Peel of an orange (about 1" wide by 2" long)
4 cloves
A pinch of nutmeg
1 stick of cinnamon
2 Tbsp. freshly ground coffee
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1 qt. Aguardiente*, grappa** or pisco

Boil milk with sugar, orange skin, cloves, cinnamon and nutmeg.  Once the milk has come to a boil, remove from stove and add the coffee and vanilla extract and stir constantly for about 5 to ten minutes or until the coffee dissolves as much as possible.

Once the mixture is cold, filter it (paper filters work best) or use a really fine colander with a paper towel. Add the spirit and pour into bottles with tight lids. Place in refrigerator and let it sit for a couple of days before serving. It will keep for a couple of weeks in the fridge.

Shake well before opening. Serve cold, over ice if desired (though not traditional). Can be garnished with a cinnamon stick or a sprinkle of cinnamon if desired.

* Aguardiente is a denomination of spirits that can range from vodka to sugar cane based, so the name is given not because of the source, but the alcohol content, which can be upwards of 120 proof alcohol. In Chile, Aguardiente is made from grapes and the alcohol content is usually somewhere between 45-55% (above 55% is illegal). Because aguardiente is a very generic term and the actual product and alcohol content varies from region to region, I suggest using a grape spirit such as grappa or pisco, preferably between 45-50% alcohol.

** Grappa, like champagne, is a spirit produced from grapes and can only be called grappa if it complies with certain requirements, such as being produced in a certain region of Italy. That’s why substituting it with a grape-based spirit like pisco can lower the cost considerably.

Keith's Bloody Monkey

This variation on a Monkey Gland, but uses fresh winter citrus. Makes one cocktail.

1.5 oz. gin
1.5 oz. blood orange juice, strained of pulp
1 tsp. grenadine
1/2 tsp Pernod

Add all ingredients to cocktail shaker. Add ice till shaker is 3/4 full. Shake vigorously for 20-30 seconds. Strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with slice of blood orange.

The e-mails I get from local farmers' markets are often packed with information, not only about the vendors you'll find there each week, but often containing helpful information and recipes for the seasonal products stacked on their vendors' tables. The essay below, for instance, is from a recent Beaverton Farmers Market newsletter:

Most people think that they know the difference between sweet potatoes and yams, but they have been deceived. Sweet potatoes are not a type of yam, and yams are not a type of sweet potato. They are both tuberous root vegetables that come from a flowering plant, but they are not related and actually don’t have a lot in common. Yams are native to Africa and Asia and are related to lilies. Compared to sweet potatoes, yams are starchier and drier. In our country, yams are likely to be found in international and specialty markets, if at all. Sweet potatoes are the vegetables that you find in our grocery stores and farmers' markets.

Sweet potatoes come from the morning glory family (Ipomoea). Of the numerous varieties grown in the U.S., there are two major types: firm sweet potatoes, which have golden skin and paler flesh, and soft sweet potatoes, which have copper skin and orange flesh. The firm varieties cook up firm and a little waxy, the soft varieties are creamy, fluffy, and moist. Firm varieties were the first to be grown in the U.S. When we started growing the soft varieties, it was felt that there was a need to call them something different so they decided to call them “yams." This was a marketing decision, not a botanical one.

Yams have rough brown skin and a dry, starchy texture and grow mainly in Europe, Asia and Africa. The word “yam” comes from the West African word “nyami," which means “to eat.” Sweet potatoes, on the other hand, are native to North America, have a conical shape, are usually red or orange in color, and have a sweet and creamy texture, which makes them very versatile and easy to cook with.

Roasted Yams or Sweet Potatoes Your Way

Recipe from the Good Stuff NW files.

This is a basic recipe that you can adapt any way you want. Roast the sweet potatoes in the oven, then serve them as is, or slather with butter; sweeten with a drizzle of maple syrup or a sprinkling of brown sugar and a splash of lemon; or simply improvise!

2-3 large yams or sweet potatoes, peeled and cut crosswise in 1/2" slices
2-3 cloves garlic, minced
2 Tbsp. olive oil
1/2 tsp. salt
Herbs, optional

Preheat oven to 350°.

Place slices in a large bowl with garlic, olive oil, salt and herbs, if using. Stir to combine and coat the slices. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and lay the slices on it in a single layer. Place in oven and roast for 30-45 minutes until they can be easily pierced with a fork. Serve as is or zhoosh to your heart's content.

Top photo: Nat, Riverland Family Farm, courtesy Beaverton Farmers Market.

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.