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.
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, fillingthe 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.
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.
Oregon is so incredibly fortunate to have an abundance of pasture-based farms that are focused on animal welfare and the hard work of improving their soil.
There's Chris and Zack Menchini's Campfire Farms in Canby, Michael and Linda Guebert's Terra Farma in Corbett, Ryan Ramage and his family at Ramage Farms in Canby, Jared Gardner's Nehalem River Ranch at the coast, and in the snow-covered mountains and wheat fields of Eastern Oregon you'll find Cory Carman's Carman Ranch and Liza Jane McAlister, matriarch of 6 Ranch—whose tagline "Doing it the hard way since 1884" has this former ad person swooning—among dozens more. (Find where to get the products from local farms and ranches that have adopted pasture-based methods in the invaluable Oregon Pasture Network Guide.)
If you follow any of these folks on social media or sign up for their newsletters like I have, you'll find that they'll occasionally post special offerings when they need to make room in their freezers or have extra stock (no pun intended) available. So when I run across a screaming deal on Carman Ranch ground beef or see that Campfire Farms is offering a box of assorted sausages and pasture-raised chicken breasts for a (relative) song, I jump on it.
That was the case when Ryan Ramage posted a photo of a box of beef chuck roasts and short ribs for close to half off the regular price. It did necessitate driving to Oregon City for a not-so-clandestine meetup at Tony's Smoke House and Cannery where Ryan was making a delivery, but he graciously plopped the box in the boot of the Subie and I handed him a check. Done!
One of the chuck roasts was left out to thaw in a tub of cool water and I started the quest for a chili recipe that would assuage my craving for a chile-laced black bean version. Having belatedly stumbled across the amazing collection of videos and recipes of Pati Jinich, a superb cook and passionate activist for authentic Mexican culture and cuisine—watch her moving interview with Mayan women who formed a baseball team and are now national stars—I found a recipe for braised pork with chiles used as a filling to make pork chilorio burritas.
With apologies to Ms. Jinich, I substituted beef for the pork and added some of my roasted tomatoes and black beans to the ingredients. The result was magical. I hope you check out her videos and enjoy this bowl of delicious pastured beef and bean chili!
1 lb. dried black beans 3-4 lbs. pastured beef chuck roast, cut in 1" cubes 1 1/4 c. fresh-squeezed orange juice 1 1/4 c. water 1 tsp. kosher or sea salt 5 dried ancho chiles, tops and seeds removed 1 1/2 c. of the chile soaking liquid 1/2 c. onion, roughly chopped 4 cloves garlic 1 tsp. dried oregano 1/4 tsp. ground cumin 1/4 tsp. ground black pepper 2/3 c. cider vinegar 2 c. roasted tomatoes 3 Tbsp. vegetable oil 1/4 tsp. salt plus more to taste Condiments (optional): Grated cheddar or crumbled cotija, sliced avocados, shredded cabbage, sour cream (crema), sliced jalapeños, red pepper flakes, hot sauce(s)
The evening before serving, soak the beans by placing them in a large saucepan and cover with water by two inches. Put a lid on the pot and place on the counter or the back burner of the stove to soak (unheated) overnight.
At least three hours before serving, drain the beans and set aside.
Place meat in a Dutch oven or large pot and pour orange juice and water over it. The liquid should barely cover the meat—if it does not, simply add more water. Add a teaspoon of salt and bring to a boil, then cover and turn down the heat to simmer for 60 to 90 minutes, until much of the liquid is gone. The meat should be cooked but still retain its shape. so once the meat is cooked, pour it into a large bowl and set aside.
While the meat cooks, remove the stems and seeds from the ancho chiles, tearing them into large pieces. (You may want to wear gloves for this step if you're sensitive to their oils.) Place the pieces of the chiles in a heatproof bowl and cover them with boiling water, letting them steep for about 30 minutes. Once the chiles have rehydrated and cooled, place them and 1 1/2 cups of their soaking liquid in the blender, adding the onion, garlic, parsley, oregano, cumin, black pepper, vinegar, and roasted tomatoes. Purée on high until smooth.
Take the pot that you cooked the meat in and heat the vegetable oil over medium heat. Pour in the blended chile sauce and simmer 4 to 5 minutes. Add the meat with its cooking liquid and the soaked, drained beans to the sauce in the pot. Add 1/4 teaspoon salt and let it cook, stirring occasionally, until the beans are tender but not mushy, 45 minutes to an hour. Taste for salt and add more if need be.
Serve as is or with a panoply of condiments as suggested above.
There's a reason the French love braised beef, simmered slowly for hours until it's just short of falling apart. Whether you call it bourguignon or daube as the French do, or pot roast or beef stew, it's a sumptuous, belly-warming meal that fills the house with its luscious aroma and can feed a crowd or keep a couple in dinners and lunches for days.
It's also adaptable to different seasonings depending on what's in your pantry or still hanging on in your winter garden. A classic Provençale beef daube calls for red wine, tomatoes and herbs, while an Italian stracotto—translated as "overcooked" for some reason—calls for…well…red wine, tomatoes and herbs. One may lean more heavily toward bay leaf and thyme while the other includes rosemary, but it's poh-tay-toh, poh-tah-toh as far as I'm concerned.
Same for a beef stew or pot roast. One may include cutting the beef into chunks and browning first in a dusting of flour mixed with salt and pepper, or throwing in potatoes for the last few minutes, but as long as the meat is simmered until it's about to slip the bonds of structural integrity, it's good to go.
Fortunately it looks like the Pacific Northwest will have at least a few more weeks of what I like to call braising weather before spring temperatures begin in earnest, so don't put away your stew pot just yet. The recipe below is for my version of bourguignon, but don't be afraid to sub in other vegetables or herbs.
Pot Roast Bourguignon
This is extremely easy to make, but you'll need to get it in the oven four hours before dinner or make it the day before. Cutting back on the time in the oven makes for a less-than-stellar experience.
4 slices bacon, cut in 1/4" strips 1 3-5 lb. chuck roast Salt and pepper 1 large onion, chopped in 1/2" dice 4 cloves garlic, minced 2 ribs celery, chopped in 1/4" slices (optional) 4 carrots, sliced in 1/4" rounds 1 lb. mushrooms, halved vertically and cut into slices 1 Tbsp. dried basil 1 tsp. dried thyme 1 Tbsp. minced fresh rosemary (from two 6-inch sprigs) 1 qt. (32 oz.) roasted tomatoes 3-4 c. red wine
Preheat oven to 375°.
Put bacon in a large braising pot that can go in the oven and fry till fat is rendered and it starts to brown. Add onions and garlic and sauté 2-3 min., then add carrots and celery and sauté 2-3 min. Add sliced mushrooms and sauté till soft. Stir in tomatoes and herbs, then add wine. Sprinkle roast generously with salt and pepper add to pot. Bring to a boil, then cover and place pot in oven, baking for 2 hours.
Remove meat from pot and cut in 1/4" slices, then return the sliced meat to the pot, covering with sauce and vegetables. Cover and bake for another 1 1/2 hrs.
Remove to a serving dish. Serve with boiled or roasted potatoes or a rich, creamy polenta.
While the occurrence of scurvy, a severe deficiency of vitamin C, has been relatively rare in the U.S. population during my lifetime, that never stopped my mother from bringing it up as she poured us our glass of orange juice made from frozen concentrate every morning alongside our cold cereal—Grape Nuts or Wheaties for me, Frosted Flakes or Cap'n Crunch for my brothers.
Here in the Pacific Northwest, most of our fresh citrus comes from California these days, aside from the rare hardy Meyer lemons that some regional growers are beginning to experiment with. And what a plethora, a symphony, a cacophony of citrus it is, from oranges—not just navels but cara cara, blood oranges, valencias and more—tangerines, tangelos and mandarins to lemons, limes, grapefruit, key limes and kumquats. Then there are the more rare but becoming-more-available bumpy-skinned makrut limes, kaffir limes and finger limes (a cheffy favorite with their tiny jewel-like beads inside), plus crazy yellow-fingered buddha's hands, yuzu, limequats and giant pomelos, to name just a few.
For me, the dark days in the depths of winter are brightened by their brilliant colors and sparkling flavor. I make a point of throwing together a batch of preserved Meyer lemons that will punch up everything from roasted vegetables to stews, salads and grain dishes. The last couple of years Dave has concocted a masterful citrus marmalade, combining a couple of recipes from the New York Times along with his own brushstrokes of genius.
I think we're going to be safe from scurvy's scourge this year—Mom would be relieved.
Citrus Marmalade
2 blood oranges 1 navel orange 3 lemons 4 c. granulated sugar 1⁄4 c. fresh lemon juice
Wash the citrus well under warm running water. Using a sharp knife, slice off the top and bottom of the citrus so it sits sturdily on the cutting board. Halve the fruit top to bottom and remove any visible seeds. Lay the half on the cutting board and cut each half crosswise into 1/8-inch thick slices (white membrane and all), removing any seeds you might have missed.
Measure the volume of sliced fruit and place in a bowl. Cover with the same volume of water, keeping track of the amount of water you add. Cover with a lid or plastic wrap and let this sit for at least 8 hours and up to 24 hours in the refrigerator. (This will help extract the pectin slowly as well as soften the peels.)
Place a small plate in the freezer to chill. (You’ll use this later.)
Place the peels, fruit and water in a large pot. Add enough water to bring the total amount of water added to 6 cups and bring to a strong simmer over medium–high heat. Cook the citrus until the peels have begun to soften and turn translucent, and the liquid has reduced by about three-fourths, 40-50 minutes.
Add sugar and continue to cook, stirring occasionally. As the marmalade cooks and thickens, stir more frequently. Continue cooking until most of the liquid has evaporated, another 40-50 minutes.
As it cooks, the liquid will go from a rapid boil with smaller bubbles to a slower boil with larger bubbles. At this point it's important to stir constantly along the bottom of the pot to prevent scorching. (Be sure to watch out for splattering.) Add lemon juice and continue to cook.
To test the jam's thickness, take out the plate you put in the freezer and spoon some onto the chilled plate and let it sit on the counter for 1-2 minutes. Drag your finger through it—if the jam is done it will hold its shape and not be watery or runny. If not, cook a few more minutes.
Divide among jars, leaving 1/4 inch of space at the top, and seal immediately. You can preserve the jars in a water bath canner (follow directions on the canner), or allow to cool on the counter, thenstore in the refrigerator or freezer.
Top photo: Marmalade on Dave's homemade organic rye sourdough, a match made in heaven!
Ten days locked in ice. No water due to a break in a water main, with more than 100 animals, not to mention your livelihood, depending on it to keep them alive. Which means having to carry dozens of gallons of water by hand from the creek at the bottom of the property up a steep hill to the barn.
"Think about your farmers out in these situations and know that they're going through a lot," said Michael Guebert of Terra Farma in Corbett in a report on a local news channel. "It's really, really hard work during good conditions but under conditions like this it's really stressful and really exhausting."
Photos of hoop houses with their plastic coverings collapsed under the weight of ice and snow, fields of frozen vegetables, posts on social media about frozen irrigation lines and burst field pipes illustrated the hazards of farming in winter and the risks that farmers take this time of year.
"I've seen a lot of reports of collapsed greenhouses and barns from the weight of ice and snow, and also damage to structures, fences, and other infrastructure from falling power poles, {power] lines, trees and limbs," said Alice Morrison of Friends of Family Farmers, a statewide organization that advocates for small family farms.
In response to the damage caused by the extreme weather, Oregon Governor Tina Kotek declared a statewide emergency on January 18th, instructing agencies to begin working with counties to assess needs, as well as identifying federal resources that are unlocked by declaring a statewide emergency.
In answer to a query sent to the Oregon Department of Agriculture (ODA) about disaster relief from storm-caused damage, Director of Communications Andrea Cantu-Schomus responded, "ODA is not aware of a state resource for farmers who have suffered damage in the ice storms as of today. Individual commodity groups are working on relief efforts" and, without naming the groups that might help, suggested contacting them directly.
Loss of income to farmers from damage to crops, buildings and irrigation could be devastating for some, not to mention the lost income from the many farmers' markets closed because of the freezing temperatures and ice. If they were able to get out at all, many farmers were unable to deliver to retail customers and restaurants because of road closures and dangerous conditions. Others had to hold off on harvesting or reschedule pick-ups with their CSA subscribers.
Josh Volk of Cully Neighborhood Farm wrote on its blog that when he puts together the winter CSA schedule he always thinks, “Well, if it freezes we’ll just delay a week since harvests are typically every other week anyway. It's still a bummer, though…I have my fingers crossed that some of the remaining heads [of radicchio] made it through that cold snap."
As they did when the COVID pandemic shut down many in-person farmers' markets, some farmers pivoted to holding local pop-ups with other farmers and producers to make up for lost income. It also gave customers an opportunity to stock up on fresh meat, veggies, locally roasted coffee and baked goods. Other farmers were offering discounts on home delivery of meat, bread, fish and pantry items.
Year-round farmers' markets will be reopening this weekend and farmers are looking forward to getting back to normal. If you can, make plans to get to your neighborhood market and wish your favorite farmers well. They've been through the wringer!
synchronicity Noun; pron: syn·chro·nic·i·ty, siŋ-krə-ˈni-sə-tē; plural: synchronicities 1: the quality or fact of being synchronous. 2: the coincidental occurrence of events.
I love it when I'm walking with a friend—in this instance with my neighbor Ann, a professor of Asian art history, a professional soprano and an expert plantswoman—and we're talking, as we often do, about a favorite recipe. In this case, it was a sheet pan supper she'd made recently and, as we rambled behind our dogs through the neighborhood, I realized I had all the main ingredients in my fridge to make it that night.
Synchronicity, indeed!
When I arrived home I looked up the recipe online and found it was by New York Times writer Yewande Komolafe, who wrote "this recipe calls for a wintry mix of squash and turnips, but equal amounts of root vegetables like carrots, potatoes and beets, or lighter vegetables like cauliflower, brussels sprouts or broccoli will work well, too."
I had two very large garnet yams and two medium-sized rutabagas on hand, so I had roots aplenty, plus some carrots I'd just pulled from my neighbor Bill's garden earlier that day. The rutabagas still had their hefty leaves attached, so I chopped those up into bite-sized pieces, too, and threw them in with the rest of the vegetables.
Of course I had the exceptional gochujang I'd made from my friend Denise's family recipe, and I tweaked the NYT recipe by adding several cloves of garlic, a spoonful of locally made Jorinji miso and a couple of glugs of fish sauce to the sauce, plus a splash of fish sauce in the salad dressing.
The real genius of this recipe—thank you, Ms. Komolafe, I'll now be doing this with other dishes—is topping the roasted vegetables with a salad of lightly pickled radishes and scallion greens just before serving. I lucked out there, too, by pullingfrom my veg bin a gorgeous black radish from that selfsame CSA share.
If you have all the ingredients on hand, so much the better, but this is worth shopping for, too, and comes together in about an hour, most of which is roasting time
Gochujang Roasted Root Vegetables and Chicken Thighs
For the roasted vegetables and chicken: 3 Tbsp. gochujang* 2 Tbsp. soy sauce 1 Tbsp. fish sauce 1 (1-inch) piece fresh ginger, peeled and finely grated (about 1 tablespoon) 1 Tbsp. white miso 4 large cloves garlic, pressed in a garlic press 3 Tbsp. vegetable oil 2 lbs. garnet yams and rutabaga chopped into 1-inch pieces, about 5 loose cups (see above to substitute other vegetables) 10 scallions, roots trimmed, green and white/light green parts separated, sliced into 3" lengths Kosher salt 3-4 good-sized, bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs
For the salad: 1 bunch radishes, about 10 oz., or 1 med. large black radish, trimmed and thinly sliced 2 Tbsp. rice vinegar 1 Tbsp. sesame oil 1/2 tsp. fish sauce
Heat the oven to 425°.
Combine the gochujang, soy sauce, fish sauce, miso, ginger, pressed garlic and vegetable oil in a zip-lock bag. Add the yams, rutabagas and scallion whites (reserving the darker greens for the salad), and shake to coat with sauce. Transfer to a rimmed baking sheet. Season the chicken with salt and toss to coat in whatever is left of the glaze in the bag. Arrange the chicken pieces skin-side up between the vegetables on the sheet. Roast until vegetables are tender, chicken is cooked through and the skin crispy and browned in spots, about 40 minutes.
While the chicken cooks, thinly chiffonade the scallion greens crosswise. Cut the radishes into thin rounds. If using a black radish, cut into approx. 1" sticks and slice thinly crosswise (do not peel—that black skin is very dramatic). In a small bowl, toss the sliced scallion greens and radishes with the rice vinegar, sesame oil and fish sauce. Season to taste with salt and set aside to lightly pickle, stirring occasionally to distribute dressing evenly.
When chicken and vegetables are done, remove the chicken to a plate and transfer vegetables to a platter. Quickly top vegetables with the drained quick-pickled salad, then place chicken thighs on top.
The recipe suggests serving this with steamed rice, but to me, root vegetables are generally fairly starchy, so I didn't feel it needed the rice.
* If you don't want to make your own gochujang, I've found Mother-in-Law's is a decent brand, but won't have nearly the depth of flavor you'll get from homemade.
Most cookbooks are divided into categories. Some go with the "meat, vegetables, seafood" format where recipes are slotted by main ingredient. Others divvy them up by course: appetizers, entrées, desserts, etc. I even have one that has separated the recipes into occasions, like picnics, parties, casual dinners and, of course, formal dinners. The pages of that last section, by the way, are as pristine as the day it was bought at a garage sale, giving you an idea of how useful its various owners have found it.
But I propose a different way to categorize a cookbook, and that's by how you feel. Happy? Make some small plates of your favorite foods, including simple salads and desserts. Depressed? You could indulge in a big ol' chocolate cake by yourself, or treat your mood with lots of fish and kale for their Omega 3s and anti-oxidants.
Then there's sinful, which I'm sure someone has done already and titled "Food for Lovers" or some such, full of unctuous (good word for that category, right?), creamy, rich or sweet flavors that beg to be licked off the plate or some other surface—but we'll stop there.
A perfect food for that category, though one I doubt would normally be thought of, is crab. It's certainly rich and has a delicate sweetness on its own…think whole pieces of leg or joint eaten right out of the shell. But it takes on a whole different personality when folded into a creamy sauce or warmed in a bisque, its sweet character enhancing the lushness of the dish and the warm meat melting when it hits your tongue.
Which is why, when I saw that cooked whole crabs had hit a ridiculously low price per pound, and knowing that early season crab is the sweetest, I bought two and fantasized about using it in macaroni and cheese. While I was only planning on using the meat from one of them for the casserole, the price and my lack of inhibitions made me throw the meat from both into the noodles and sauce just before I slid it into the oven, and it was so worth it.
This recipe would be terrific for a special dinner, served in individual ramekins which, depending on your mood and the setting—say, in front of the fire on a lambskin rug?—could make for a memorable evening. Champagne, anyone?
Dungeness Crab Macaroni and Cheese
1 lb. dried pasta (penne or cavatappi are my faves) 4 Tbsp. butter 4 Tbsp. flour 2 c. whole milk (or 1 c. cream or half-and-half plus 1 c. milk) 1/2 lb. extra-sharp cheddar cheese, grated 8 oz. cream cheese or sour cream 1/2 tsp. hot pepper sauce (I use my homemade chile sauce) Salt and pepper to taste Meat from 1-2 crabs
Preheat the oven to 350°.
Bring a large pot of water to boil over high heat. While water is heating, melt butter in a medium saucepan. Remove from burner and add flour, stirring to combine until there are no lumps remaining. Return to burner and cook on low heat for 1-2 minutes, stirring constantly. Increase heat to medium and add milk (or milk and cream) and stir until it thickened. Then add cheese in handfuls, stirring each in until they're melted. Add cream cheese and stir until sauce is thick and creamy, then add hot sauce with salt and pepper to taste. Reduce heat to keep sauce warm until pasta is done, stirring occasionally.
Add pasta to boiling water and cook till al dente or a little less. Drain and put back in pasta pot, pour cheese sauce and crab meat over tthe top and fold in briefly to combine, keeping crab from breaking up too much. Pour into baking dish. Bake for 30 minutes.
In 2008, in an article for the Oregonian's FoodDay, I wrote, "I know the phrase 'winter farmers' markets' sounds like an oxymoron on the scale of 'open secret' or 'original copies,' but all you have to do is bundle up a bit, grab your market bag and you'll discover, like I did, a whole bunch of people who think this is actually fun, not to mention a way to eat fresher and more seasonally. Plus you can find great snacking on wonderful artisan cheeses and prepared foods, and warm drinks to keep the chill at bay."
When that article was written fifteen years ago, there were less than a handful of year-round farmers' markets in Oregon. Back then, mention of going to a winter farmers' market brought visions of sad, soupy bowls of boiled root vegetables. Even the Portland Farmers’ Market, the 800-pound gorilla of the state's farmers’ markets, took more than twenty years to finally get on the winter bandwagon in 2014.
My, how things have changed!
Demand for year-round access to local produce has grown to the point that in 2024 there are 26 markets statewide that are open during at least part of the winter, with 12 in the greater Portland metro area, including Vancouver and McMinnville (see list, below). This shift has meant local farmers and producers have been able to take advantage of year-round production and a more stable income.
"The Winter Market is hugely important for vendors because it provides them with income for more than six months of the year," according to Ginger Rapport, Market Master at the Beaverton Farmers Market, which begins its winter season on February 3rd. "An extended season improves their cash flow over the course of the year and allows them to serve their customers for a greater number of months.
"Loyal customers would often drive great distances to vendors during our off months to pick up products that they just couldn’t go without while we were closed," she said. "The extended season gives customers easier access to the foods they love while helping vendors with much needed cash flow at the same time. It is a win-win for all!"
Plus farmers have the opportunity to retain key staff members, bringing continuity to the farm's operations while providing those staff members and their families with stable year-round employment.
And what will shoppers find at these markets?
Simply walking down an aisle packed with happy shoppers filling their baskets, bags and wagons brings a profusion of color and aromas, from towers of sweet carrots and radishes—root vegetable and brassicas like kale are at their sweetest in winter when the plants pump out sugars to act as antifreeze— to squashes and heads of lettuce so vibrant you'd swear they have a pulse.
The maritime growing climate of the Willamette Valley is perfect for growing crops that do well in the cold all year long. So, in addition to year-round regulars such as fresh salad and braising greens, apples, cauliflower and broccoli, the winter markets starred things like fractalized chartreuse cones of romanesco and my choice for the ugliest, most delicious vegetable ever, celery root (aka celeriac). Plus root vegetables such as kohlrabi, beets in all colors of the rainbow, turnips, Jerusalem artichokes, parsnips and rutabagas. For omnivores of all stripes, there is sweet, start-of-the-season Dungeness crab and lots of lamb and beef available.
You'll find the latest "it" salad green isn't just green, but chicories—radicchio, the deep red softball-sized variety, being the best known of the species—come in colors from deep red treviso and tardivo to sunny yellow castelfranco with its splashes of rose to the peony-like pink Rosalba, and are being adapted by many Oregon farmers to thrive in our winters.
Regular market-goers also know that they can find their favorite Oregon hazelnuts and berry jams at the market, along with fish caught hours before in our oceans and rivers. Pasture-raised meats and cured sausages, fermented sauerkraut and pickles of all kinds, local cheeses from pastured cows and goats as well as vegan cheeses containing no milk at all line the aisles.
Listed below is the latest list of our winter markets with links to their websites. Let me know if I've missed one!
Rogue Valley Indoor Winter Markets. Tues., 9 am-1 pm at Ashland National Guard Armory.v1420 E. Main St, Ashland; and Sun., 1-5 pm at Village at Medford Center (near Tinseltown and Tap and Vine), Medford.
Salem Holiday Market. Fri., Dec. 13, 5:30-8:30 pm; Sat., Dec. 14, 10 am-6 pm; Sun., Dec. 15, 10 am-4 pm. State Fairgrounds, Jackman Long Building, 2330 17th St NE, Salem.
South Valley Farmers Winter Market. Sat., Nov. 2 & 16 and Dec. 7 & 21, 10 am-4 pm. Cottage Grove Armory, 628 E Washington Ave, Cottage Grove.
Umpqua Valley Farmers' Market. Sat., 9 am-1 pm. First United Methodist Church Parking Lot, 1771 W Harvard Ave, Roseburg.
Like stir fries or macaroni and cheese—see my previous post—soup is an ideal vehicle for making a simple, quick, warming winter dinner for a family out of what you have on hand, a skill that is increasingly necessary in a pandemic when dashing to the store for this or that isn't advisable.
Take a look around. Are there a bunch of odds and ends in your vegetable bin that are looking a little tired and wrinkly? Chop them up, grab a can of tomatoes and make a minestrone soup! How about those bits of leftover rotisserie chicken? Chop an onion and a carrot, pull out some stock and your soup pot, maybe add a potato or some dried pasta, and make chicken soup.
The other evening I had, as usual, no idea what to make for dinner but there was a smallish Sibley squash sitting on the counter that my neighbor Bill grew, so I roasted it and scooped out the flesh. Digging around in my pantry, I found a can of coconut milk, and I remembered seeing a baggie of curry leaves in the freezer that my friend Denise had shared with me.
With a quart of stock I'd made from the carcass of a roasted chicken earlier in the week and some zhooshing from my (admittedly) overflowing condiment shelf, the emerging Thai-inflected soup was well in hand.
I'd also run across a head of cauliflower in the fridge that was going brown in spots (easily remedied by simply scraping them off), so I threw it in the still-warm oven to get crispy and to provide some textural contrast to the creamy soup.
I'm hoping some of these skills will transfer to life after COVID when we won't have a second thought about making a trip to the store. (Promise me that time will come, though, won't you?)
Thai-ish Curried Coconut Squash Soup with Roasted Cauliflower
For the soup: 2 Tbsp. vegetable oil 1 onion, chopped in 1/2” dice 3 cloves garlic, roughly chopped 4 c. roasted squash* 1 qt. chicken or vegetable stock 1 15-oz. can coconut milk 1-2 Tbsp. Thai & True red curry paste or 2 Tbsp. curry powder plus 1/8 tsp. cayenne 1 Tbsp. fresh grated ginger 2 tsp. turmeric 1 Tbsp. fish sauce 6-8 curry leaves or 2 kaffir lime leaves or grated zest of 1 lime Salt to taste
For the cauliflower: 1 head cauliflower, cut into small florets; chop any leaves into 1” pieces and stem into 1/2” dice 2 Tbsp. olive oil 1 tsp. salt
Preheat oven to 400°.
In a large soup pot or Dutch oven, heat oil over medium-high heat until it shimmers, then add onion and garlic and sauté until tender. Add curry paste (or curry powder and cayenne, if using) and turmeric and sauté until it bubbles. Add remaining ingredients and combine. Bring to a boil and reduce heat to simmer.
Place cauliflower florets, stem pieces and chopped leaves into a large mixing bowl. Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with salt. Stir to combine, then put on sheet pan. Place in oven and roast for 30-40 minutes until tender and well-browned. Remove from oven and set aside.
Take soup off heat and remove curry leaves (or kaffir lime leaves, if using). Using an immersion blender, purée the soup until smooth. (Pro tip from a chef friend: If using a blender to purée the soup, remove the pot from the heat and allow to cool slightly. Blend in smaller batches, making sure to place a cloth over the lid of the blender and holding it down with one hand.) Replace puréed soup in pot and adjust seasonings, adding more fish sauce or salt as needed. Return to heat and keep warm until ready to serve.
To serve: Ladle soup into shallow bowls and arrange curry florets and leaves along one edge. You can also sprinkle with roasted pumpkin seeds, drizzle a few drops of sriracha, add a grinding of fresh pepper or whatever appeals to you.
* Pretty much any "winter" squash will do, including acorn, butternut, Sibley, kabocha or the like. Simply halve, scoop out the seeds and bake cut side down in a 400° oven for 30-40 minutes until tender. Scoop out meat. Learn more about winter squash here.