Peggy Fallon

Food for Thought

April 7, 2020 by Peggy Fallon Leave a Comment

As of this writing the town of Danville has temporarily closed its farmers’ market. In a time when so many gathering spots have opted to shut down until further notice, this didn’t come as a huge surprise. In the whole scheme of life, I look upon this as a fleeting inconvenience that will curb the spread of COVID-19.

Amidst the mixed media messaging that assaults us daily, there is still cause for optimism. Spring signals renewal and regardless of what else goes on in the world, the sun will shine and birds will sing and trees will blossom and flowers will bloom. (Mother Nature is good that way.) Take a minute to enjoy it.

Self-quarantine can teach us a lot about ourselves; especially how we choose to spend our time. Some of us are alone; others are sheltered with immediate family members. (I’ll let you decide which is preferable!) From what I’m hearing, lots of closets are being purged; drawers reorganized; and many long-neglected projects are getting a second look. Home gardens are getting extra attention during the daylight hours; while televisions and computers get a workout in the evening. And many kitchens are seeing a lot more action than they have in a long time.

As trips to the grocery store have become less frequent, I took on the challenge of “making do” by using up ingredients in my pantry and refrigerator. This exercise in creativity is a game I have come to enjoy. For inspiration, I often turn to the cuisines of less prosperous cultures that have not enjoyed the seemingly endless bounty of the U.S.

Once I barreled through the meager supply of proteins I generally have in the freezer, meat and fish were off the table. Literally. Well, except for a few cans of tuna and salmon I unearthed from the back of a shelf.

Odds and ends from the produce drawer were either cooked along with eggs or transformed into soup. Pasta, polenta, beans, rice, and lentils were easy choices. Suddenly I was immersed in cucina povera—the no-waste “poor cooking” tradition from rural Italy. But eating peasant food didn’t mean I stopped dining with china plates, cloth napkins, candles, and—okay— often a glass or two of wine. Life is still good. Just different.

Don’t get me wrong. I am still craving a huge farmers’ market salad, a crusty loaf of artisan bread, and a produce drawer stuffed with spring veggies ripe for the taking. Organic strawberries remain the stuff dreams are made of. But all will come in good time. And life will be all the sweeter when it does.

Risotto has become a favorite around here, as it is quickly made from ingredients I generally keep around. This time of year I would normally make risotto using local asparagus, but that can wait. This is the season of the pantry challenge.

Full disclosure: I have been told by non-foodie-friends that my selection of pantry staples differs wildly from theirs. If that is correct, I’m guilty as charged. (Hence the name I’ve given this recipe.)

But I suspect that in addition to basic groceries, many of you may also have a lot of long-forgotten supplies in your cupboards: shelf-stable ingredients purchased on a whim, or open packages of leftover whatevers once needed for a specific recipe.

Look upon this as a good opportunity to use up what you already have; and become mindful of how to shop in the future. In America alone, 20 billion pounds of food is wasted each year. Let’s work to change that statistic.

When the farmers’ market is up and running again, and we’re happily gamboling through truckloads of just-picked produce, remember to also stock up on all the high-quality dried fruits, nuts, and assorted bottled and packaged ingredients sold there. Then you and your pantry will be ready for anything.

Swanky Pantry Risotto

1 package (about 1/2 ounce) dried wild mushrooms

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 tablespoon California olive oil

1 large garlic clove, minced

Salt and freshly ground pepper

1 small yellow onion, finely chopped

1 1/2 teaspoons chopped fresh thyme, or 1/2 teaspoon dried thyme leaves

1 cup Arborio rice*

1/2 cup dry white wine

4 cups hot chicken or vegetable broth

12 oil-packed sun-dried tomatoes, drained and finely chopped (about 1/4 cup)

1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese, plus extra for serving

Place the dried mushrooms in a heatproof bowl. Add boiling water to cover, pressing down with a spoon to submerge the mushrooms, and let stand until the mushrooms have softened, 20 to 30 minutes. Drain and chop coarsely**.

In a 4-quart Dutch oven or other heavy-bottomed saucepan, melt the butter in the olive oil over medium heat. Stir in the garlic and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds.

Add the reserved mushrooms and onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until the onion is softened but not browned, 3 to 5 minutes. Stir in the thyme. Add the rice and cook, stirring, until translucent and coated with the butter, about 2 minutes.

Pour in the wine and bring to a boil over high heat. Cook, stirring often, until the wine is absorbed, 1 to 2 minutes. Reduce the heat to medium. Pour in 1 cup of the hot broth and cook, stirring often, until absorbed. Continue adding broth, 1 cup at a time, stirring often, until the broth is absorbed and the rice is creamy and tender but still slightly firm in the center, about 15 minutes total.

Stir in the sun-dried tomatoes and cook until heated through, about 1 minute. Stir in the Parmesan. Taste, adding salt and freshly ground pepper as needed. Serve at once in warmed shallow bowls or plates. Pass extra Parmesan at the table. Serves 4.

* I prefer to use Italian Arborio or Carnaroli rice, which gives this dish character and its requisite creamy texture. (And yes, I really do keep this in my pantry!) In a pinch, however, any short-grain rice you have on hand will do.

**For maximum mushroom flavor, drain the soaking liquid through a fine sieve to remove any grit; then add it to the hot broth.

Emerald Dreams

March 11, 2020 by Peggy Fallon Leave a Comment

March 17 is the day when everyone aspires to be Irish; and I can’t blame all the poor unfortunates for climbing onto our bandwagon. It’s a pretty wonderful heritage, if I do say so.

Centuries of political oppression spawned a dark sense of humor that lives on to this day. Never mind our characteristic lack of height, predisposition toward freckles, and lifelong addiction to sunscreen. The Irish know how to party, and everybody wants a piece of the action this month.

There was a time when Irish cooking was little more than the punch line to a joke—a cuisine so scorned, it was ranked only slightly higher than Britain’s. Ireland was a poor country with a less-than-sunny climate, so its cooks merely played the hand they were dealt. Oh, the Irish enjoyed food—but no one else in the world was clamoring to eat their potato-centric meals with overcooked meat and mushy root vegetables. Salad? Are you kidding? Dessert? How about some fruitcake? These weren’t conscious choices. It was just life.

My parents were a product of that era, so it’s pretty much the food I grew up on, here in California. (Don’t even get me started on dulse, Donegal’s answer to Beluga caviar.) While other kids popped strange tart-like things into the toaster and slurped their way through bowls of sugary American cereal, breakfast at our house was usually crisp bacon and soft-boiled eggs served in china egg cups, alongside Mom’s raisin-studded soda bread and washed down with steaming cups of tea— made kid-friendly with plenty of milk and sugar. In the Age of Tunnel of Fudge Cake, our special spring dessert was pie homemade from rhubarb that grew in our backyard. In retrospect we were incredibly fortunate, though at the time neighborhood kids viewed our meals as freakishly quaint.

A talent for producing decent libations was about the only thing that earned the Irish a spot on the culinary map. Maybe this is why Americans invented their own misguided vision of what food should be on St. Patrick’s Day: corned beef boiled-to-death with spuds and limp, smelly cabbage. I suppose if you drank enough booze, you might even enjoy it.

But sometimes time heals all ills. A generation-or-two ago the economy of Ireland began to thrive. The young became well-educated and well-traveled, and suddenly a big ol’ pot of greasy lamb stew was no longer the solution to every entertaining dilemma. Food magazines began to celebrate the natural bounty of Ireland—organically grown vegetables; artisan cheeses; free-range meats; and fish plucked from clean waters. Suddenly farmhouse cuisine was chic. Even our beloved soda bread got some respect. Irish chefs became sophisticated locavores, and their country a destination for world-class food and an inspiration to others.

Even their longstanding love of rhubarb was given a second look. For example, instead of being mixed into cake batter, here rhubarb is sandwiched between two layers of biscuit-like dough that, when baked, soak up the sweet-tart juices. The finished cake can be cut into wedges or served directly from the dish with a large spoon, like a cobbler. Serve it plain, or with vanilla ice cream or a dollop of lightly sweetened whipped cream spiked with Irish whisky. Slainte!

Rustic Rhubarb-Ginger Cake

1 1/2 pounds fresh rhubarb stalks, cut into 1/2-inch pieces (about 4 1/2 cups total)

1 cup (packed) light brown sugar

1 1/2 tablespoons finely grated fresh ginger

2 cups cake flour*

1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons granulated sugar

3/4 teaspoon baking powder

1/8 teaspoon salt

1 stick (4 ounces) cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes

1/3 cup whole milk

2 large eggs (1 separated), at room temperature

Place a rack in the center of the oven and preheat to 400 degrees. Grease a 10-inch glass or ceramic pie plate or a 2 1/2 quart oval gratin dish; then refrigerate to chill.
In a medium bowl, combine the rhubarb, brown sugar, and ginger. Toss gently to mix well.
In a large bowl, combine the cake flour, the 1/2 cup granulated sugar, the baking powder, and salt. Whisk gently to blend. Using a pastry blender or your fingertips, blend in the butter until the mixture resembles coarse meal. In a glass measuring cup or small bowl, whisk together the milk, the whole egg, and the egg yolk. Make a well in the center of the flour mixture. Pour in the milk mixture, stirring with a wooden spoon to gradually incorporate the flour and form a soft, sticky dough.
With floured hands, transfer half of the dough to the chilled pie plate, patting out evenly over the bottom and halfway up the sides. Scrape the reserved rhubarb mixture and any accumulated juices over the dough. Using a tablespoon, spoon small mounds of the remaining dough evenly over the top. Lightly beat the egg white with a few drops of water, then lightly brush it over the dough mounds. Sprinkle the remaining 2 tablespoons of granulated sugar over the top.
Bake until the rhubarb is tender and bubbly-hot and the top crust is golden and cooked through, 30 to 40 minutes. Transfer to a rack to cool for at least 30 minutes before serving. Serve warm or at room temperature. (This is best served the same day it is made. Cake can be made up to 4 hours ahead and cooled completely, then kept, wrapped well in plastic wrap, at room temperature. Reheat if desired.)

*Cake flour is a fine textured, soft wheat flour that makes particularly tender cakes and pastries. It is often sold in a box, and can be found in the baking aisle of well-stocked supermarkets.

Rhubarb Trivia

-The thick, celery-like stalks of rhubarb can reach up to 2 feet long. When you find rhubarb at market the leaves will have already been discarded, as they are toxic.

-A good source of fiber and Vitamin A, flavorful field-grown rhubarb has cherry-red stalks and green leaves. Its peak season begins mid-March.

-Hothouse-grown rhubarb, available year-round, has a milder flavor, yellow-green leaves, and pinkish stalks that cook up to a not-so-pretty gray…which is why many recipes call for adding strawberries, raspberries, or a few drops of red food coloring. Field-grown rhubarb does not require these additions to make it visually appealing.

-Choose crisp, brightly colored stalks with fresh looking stems. Refrigerate in a plastic bag for up to 5 days.

-Rhubarb has undergone some gender re-assignment over the years. Although often prepared as a fruit, botanically it’s really a vegetable.

-Known as “pie plant” in some parts of the country, rhubarb is always combined with a fair amount of sweetener to tame its natural tartness.

The Danville Certified Farmers’ Market, located at Railroad & Prospect, is open every Saturday, rain or shine, from 9 a.m. until 1 p.m. For specific crop information call the Pacific Coast Farmers’ Market Association at 1-800-949-FARM, or visit their web site at www.pcfma.org. This market is made possible through the generous support of the Town of Danville. Please show your appreciation by patronizing the many fine shops and restaurants located in downtown Danville. Buy fresh. Buy local. Live well.

Sweet Rewards

February 5, 2020 by Peggy Fallon Leave a Comment

Most of us have been enduring a self-imposed penance since January 1, attempting to make amends for the excesses of the holiday season. For weeks it has been a steady stream of Spartan meals, limited sugar and starches, miniscule portions of fat, more sleep, more exercise, and only the occasional tipple of alcohol. Not fun.

Then along comes February 14, like a last-minute call from the governor, and suddenly we’re given a reprieve. On Valentine’s Day, life takes a familiar leap backwards into the world we know and love: Another glass of champagne? Why yes, I’d love one! Wine and dine me by candlelight? Mais oui! Then dip me in chocolate and roll me in rose petals, please.

Hearts. Flowers. Candy. You know the drill. But Valentine’s Day is not just for lovers. Teachers, classmates, neighbors, co-workers, and special service people all deserve a dose of loving appreciation. Preferably without breaking the bank.

The farmers’ market has you covered for flowers—so fresh, so beautiful that no one will guess their bargain prices. But when it comes to edibles, consider a decadent candy laced with delicious ingredients that actually have some nutritional value. And you can make it yourself, with little effort or expense. Homemade candy may seem daunting—as well it can be. But chocolate bark is about as easy as it gets.

Since the moisture in fresh fruit could cause problems with the chocolate setting and would also dramatically reduce the longevity of the bark, now is the perfect time to check out the farmers’ market’s inventory of dried fruits and nuts. Instead of the leathery morsels you may encounter elsewhere, farm-fresh dried fruits are pleasantly moist and flavorful. And your Valentine’s Day will never be ruined by rancid nuts.

Show a little love this year and make some candy for someone. Even if that someone is you.

Dried Fruit & Nut Valentine Bark

1 cup California walnut halves and pieces, or whole California almonds

2 cups (12 ounces) finely chopped bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, or chocolate chips

2 cups (12 ounces) chocolate melting wafers or candy melts*, or 2 more cups of chopped chocolate or chocolate chips

1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt

1 1/2 cups coarsely chopped dried California fruit, such as apricots, cherries, blueberries and/or raisins; unsweetened coconut flakes; or finely chopped candied ginger

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper or aluminum foil and set aside.

Spread the nuts in a pie tin or other small baking dish and bake, stirring once or twice, until lightly toasted and fragrant, 8 to 10 minutes. Let cool. Chop coarsely.

Combine the chopped chocolate, chocolate melting wafers, and salt in a heatproof bowl that will fit snugly over a medium saucepan. Set aside.

Fill the saucepan with 1 or 2 inches of water, or enough that will not touch the bottom of the bowl when it is in place. Bring the water to a boil. Reduce the heat to low and fit the bowl of chocolate over the barely-simmering water. Stir with a silicone spatula until melted and smooth.

Remove the chocolate from the heat and let stand 5 minutes to cool slightly. Add the dried fruit and nuts, barely stirring to incorporate. (You don’t want the fruit and nuts completely covered with chocolate. Some of them should peek through the finished chocolate bark.) Spread the mixture onto the prepared baking sheet until the chocolate is about 1/8-inch thick. (The top surface will remain “bumpy” from the fruit and nuts.) Refrigerate 30 minutes or until firm. Break into irregular pieces. Refrigerate in an airtight container for up to 1 week, or freeze for longer storage. Serve chilled or at room temperature. Makes about 2 pounds.

*Most craft stores sell candy melts, which unfortunately include a rather scary list of ingredients. Check the baking aisle of well-stocked supermarkets for a better quality version made with more real chocolate flavor, such as Ghirardelli Chocolate Melting Wafers.

Cook’s Tips

–Tempered chocolate, the result of a somewhat tedious process of heating and cooling, delivers the gloss and snap we associate with commercial candy. I’ve taken a shortcut here by combining real chocolate, for flavor, and melting wafers, for texture.

–I am partial to dark chocolate, but white or milk chocolate works equally well. For best results, however, opt for a high-quality brand.

–Some cooks choose to pour the plain melted chocolates onto the parchment, and then artistically arrange the dried fruit(s) and nuts over the top. If you have time for that in your life, more power to you. I’ll stick with stirring them in.

–Try cutting the finished bark with a knife if you must, but it is highly unlikely you’ll end up with perfect squares—let alone heart-shapes, if you’ve got that crazy idea in your head. Simply embrace imperfection by using your hands to break the candy into irregular shapes. It’s called “bark” for a reason.

For a thoughtful Valentine gift, pack pieces of bark into a cellophane bag and tie with a red ribbon.

20 – 20 Vision

December 31, 2019 by Peggy Fallon Leave a Comment

Got the January doldrums? Tired of cold weather? Feeling financially depleted? Weary of restaurant meals and fancy party food? Yearning for some quiet time at home? I think I know the answer to your dilemma. It sounds like a good day for soup.

So why not make an outrageously good, budget-friendly main course made from ingredients you may already have in your pantry? And, in deference to all the born-again dieters out there, the carbs and calories in classic onion soup gratinee are dramatically reduced by omitting the bread and gooey cheese. The soup is delicious without them, though certainly not as luxurious. (If it’s a clean-out-the-produce-drawer kind of day, feel free to add celery, carrot, and other veggies to make the soup more substantial.)

But if you are ready to fall face-first into some New Year’s decadence, sit right next to me. Converting this recipe to the more familiar flavors of French onion soup requires minimal effort for maximum flavor. I’ve added the instructions at the end of the recipe. As we say in California, bon appetit!

California Onion Soup

4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, cut up

2 tablespoons California olive oil

6 medium onions (2 1/2 to 3 pounds) halved and sliced about 1/8-inch thick (about 6 cups total)

2 garlic cloves, finely chopped

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 tablespoon all-purpose flour

1/4 cup dry sherry, dry white wine, or brandy

4 cups beef stock, store-bought or homemade

1 cup water

Optional: 1&1/2 teaspoons chopped fresh thyme, or 1/2 teaspoon dried thyme leaves

Freshly grated Dry Jack or parmesan cheese

In a soup pot or other heavy-bottomed 4- to 6-quart pot, melt the butter in the oil over medium heat.
Stir in the onions and garlic and season with salt and pepper. Toss to coat well. Reduce the heat to low, cover, and let cook for 15 minutes, until the onions are very soft.
Uncover the pot and increase the heat to medium. Let cook, stirring frequently, for about 40 minutes, or until the onions are deep golden brown. Adjust the heat as needed to avoid burning.
Stir in the flour and continue to cook, stirring occasionally, until the flour turns golden, about 5 minutes.
Stir in the sherry and cook 3 to 5 minutes longer. Stir in the stock, water, and thyme, if using. Cover and bring to a boil; then reduce the heat to low and simmer, partially covered, for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally. Taste, adding more salt and pepper as needed.
Ladle the hot soup into 4 bowls and pass the grated cheese at the table.

To Make French-Style California Onion Soup Gratinee, you will also need:

8 slices Gruyere cheese, plus 1 generous cup shredded

2 cups homemade or store-bought plain croutons, or 8-to-12 toasted baguette slices

After Step #5 above, preheat the broiler. Place 4 ovenproof crocks or bowls on a foil- or parchment-lined baking sheet.
Divide the hot soup equally among the bowls. Cover each with 2 slices of cheese and top with 1/2 cup croutons; then sprinkle a generous 1/4 cup of shredded cheese evenly over all. Place the baking sheet about 6 inches from the broiler and broil, watching carefully, until the cheese is bubbly-hot and lightly browned. Serve warm.

Cook’s Tips

# If you are skilled with a knife, go for it! Otherwise, use the slicing blade on a food processor or a mandoline to cut the onions.

# Cooking onions “low and slow” results in caramelization, and elevates this humble vegetable to one of the tenets of haute cuisine. Many good cooks keep a batch of caramelized onions in the refrigerator, at the ready to add richness and instant depth of flavor to sautés, stews, and sauces. (Prepare the onions through Step #3 above. Let cool, and refrigerate in a sealed container.)

You can also create your own California Onion Dip by mixing caramelized onions with sour cream, a drizzle of California olive oil, and salt and pepper to taste.

# For those who follow a strict vegetarian diet, substitute good-quality vegetable stock for the beef stock in this recipe.

#If you prefer to avoid alcohol substitute water or stock for the sherry, and add a squeeze of fresh lemon juice to brighten the flavors.

# If you are indulging in the more traditional version of onion soup, do opt for Gruyere cheese whenever possible. Its texture, melting quality, and slightly nutty flavor outshine any other Swiss-style cheese.

But for a change of pace, a goodcheddar also works surprisingly well.

It’s a Cryin’ Shame….

# There are more than 500 hundred varieties of onions, but they all fall into three major categories: Common “storage onions” have protective papery skins and can be kept for long periods of time. They have a more pronounced heat that mellows with cooking—as in the soup recipe above. Storage onions should be kept in a paper (not plastic) bag in a pantry or other cool, dry place, away from potatoes or other vegetables.

“Sweet onions” are grown seasonally in various parts of the world. Although they have a much shorter shelf life, they are considerably milder and release no fumes when cut.

Finally there are “fresh onions” with green stalks, such as spring onions and scallions, which are the most perishable of all. These should be stored in an open plastic bag in the produce drawer of the refrigerator.

# Although you should not routinely refrigerate storage onions, refrigerating them for 30 minutes or so before slicing seems to tame their sometimes pungent fumes.

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Surviving the Holidaze

December 5, 2019 by Peggy Fallon Leave a Comment

Every holiday season I aspire to be one of those blissfully calm women I see on television. The ones who pen warm, thoughtful messages in every greeting card; whose spotless homes are lovingly decorated inside and out, with elegantly wrapped gifts under the tree and spiced apple cider simmering on the stove. You know, the type of woman who had a Christmas wreath wired to the front of her SUV the morning after Thanksgiving.

Instead, most December mornings I’ve got wild, unkempt hair stuffed under a beret; hyperventilating as I inch my way through endless traffic jams, clutching a tear-stained “to do” list in my white-knuckled hands. It seems there is an endless number of big and small gifts to purchase this month—for hosts and service providers as well as friends and family.

Amidst all the madness, it’s comforting to take refuge at the farmers’ market early on Saturday, where you’ll never hear the beep of an electronic scanning machine or the tedious repetition of pre-recorded Christmas carols. This low-tech approach to open-air shopping provides endless bounty for your holiday meals, and plenty of creative ideas for gifts of good taste.

With a little imagination and a few yards of ribbon, you’ll be able to put a major dent in your shopping list. No need to order tissue-wrapped fruit of questionable quality from far-away places when the best selection of flavorful California-grown winter produce is right here. There are crisp apples, voluptuous pears, and fragrant oranges and tangerines just waiting to be tucked inside a wicker gift basket. You’ll also find locally-produced honey, artisan jams, and crimson sun-dried tomatoes. And the floral selection at the farmers’ market is more spectacular than ever, with bargain-priced holiday plants and greens intermingled with freshly cut flowers.

Not only are homemade or home-assembled gifts less expensive, their personal nature captures the true spirit of giving. It’s also the ideal way to support the people who grow the food we eat throughout the year.

# A bottle of California extra-virgin olive oil costs less than a good bottle of wine, and lasts a lot longer than one evening.

# Salad lovers will appreciate a bottle of good vinegar and a plump head of garlic to go along with that olive oil…and maybe a little bag of California almonds to toast and toss with greens. Take things a bit further by adding a small bag of homemade croutons.

# Guarantee tonight’s host a great breakfast tomorrow by bringing a few juicy grapefruit; a jar of glistening jam, locally-produced honey, and a loaf of artisan bread—with or without a new cutting board.

# Give your favorite baker a beribboned loaf pan brimming with locally-grown walnuts, California dried apricots, cherries, or raisins; and enclose a favorite quick-bread recipe.

# An earthy basket or ceramic bowl filled with perfect pears or leafy tangerines makes a fragrant, colorful, and caring gift—both decorative and practical.

# Keep friends healthy and happy with a big sack of sweet and juicy organic oranges, paired with a citrus juicer.

While perusing the citrus inventory at the market, remember that not all oranges are created equal. They may look similar to what you see at the supermarket, but the real test is in the taste. Farmers’ market citrus is grown locally, tree-ripened, and delivered directly to market by the growers—usually within 48 hours of harvesting. Fruit destined for supermarkets goes from the tree to a packing house, where it is stored for a while; then to a cooler, where it can be stored for months; then finally trucked an indeterminate number of miles to a grocery store warehouse, where it is stored again until needed.

Also consider that commercially grown oranges are often picked before they have attained optimum sweetness so they can be rushed to stores to meet the demand; and their skins are routinely dyed to cover green spots and give them a brighter, “fresher-looking” hue. Trying to out-smart Mother Nature takes a lot of time and labor….and the consumer ultimately pays for it in price as well as quality.

Orange you glad to know….

—Contrary to common logic, the orange is not named for its color. The name comes from the Sanskrit naranga, which comes from the Tamil naru, which means fragrant.

–Oranges have long been associated with fertility and good fortune, as the lush evergreen tree can simultaneously produce flowers, fruit, and foliage. The fertility trifecta.

–Although oranges are native to Asia and are now grow in warm-weather regions throughout the world, the U.S. is the world’s largest producer.

–Look for citrus that feels heavy for its size…this is a low-tech indicator of juice content. And since commercially-produced oranges are often dyed, skin color is not an indication of quality.

–Plenty of varieties of sweet oranges abound this month. Valencia is an all-purpose variety best known for its superior juice; navel oranges are conveniently seedless. Exotic blood oranges have stunning ruby-red juice that is lower in acid. Then there are all those loose-skinned relatives from the mandarin branch of the family—like tangerines, seedless clementines, and tangelos. Bitter oranges, like the Seville used for marmalade, are less common in the U.S.

–Almost all of the orange is usable: the flesh, the juice, and the aromatic skin. Only the spongy white pith is usually discarded because of its bitterness.

–Fresh-squeezed orange juice has a considerably higher Vitamin C content than canned, bottled, or frozen concentrate.

–Oranges will keep for up to 2 weeks in the refrigerator.

Thankful Thursday

November 13, 2019 by Peggy Fallon Leave a Comment

This is the month when magazines, newspapers, and foodie websites bestow valuable space to inspirational menus for the perfect Thanksgiving. My advice is to forget perfection: just make food that tastes good. Your family has been looking forward to this meal. Any innovative dish that requires herculean efforts should be reserved for a less stressful day. No one will be disappointed if eggs aren’t suspended in aspic and your turkey is not encased in puff pastry.

Equally important, not every dish needs to be dripping in butter, drowning in dairy products, or buried under a shroud of molten marshmallows. Simply roasted Brussels sprouts or winter squash—or steamed veggies like green beans or broccoli—can be equally festive, and are a welcome diversion from all the rich side dishes associated with the day.

Whether you’re the harried host or a lucky guest on November 28, the Danville farmers’ market has a plethora of products to elevate every aspect of the meal. Fill your shopping basket with voluptuous pears; bright and shiny persimmons; plump pomegranates; tiny kumquats; moist raisins; this year’s crop of walnuts; truckloads of apples; all the basics for farm-fresh salads, mashed potatoes, and sweet potatoes…and unbelievable deals on just-picked flowers.

Since “yam” is a misnomer commonly applied to the sweet potato, the age-old confusion over the difference between the two seems to resurface this time each year. So here’s the dirt:

Real yams are starchy tropical tubers—often one to four feet long—and rarely seen outside of obscure ethnic markets. Chances are you will never encounter one.

What we see labeled as “yams” are actually a red-skinned variety ofsweet potato. Sweet potatoes ordinaire have a gold-ish-color skin and flesh, and a drier texture inside, similar to a russet potato.

The yam variety of sweet potato (such as Red Garnet and Jewel) has dark, reddish-purple skin and bright orange flesh. All varieties of sweet potatoes are interchangeable in recipes, though most prefer the vibrant color and moist, creamy texture of the yam. So there you have it.

Here’s a make-ahead recipe that would be right at home on any table, any day. It’s as pretty as it is delicious, and the recipe is easily doubled for crowds. And unlike many holiday sweet potato preparations, it’s light, fresh, and healthy.

SWEET POTATO PUREE with ORANGE, GINGER, and POMEGRANATE

4 large red-skinned (yam variety) sweet potatoes (about 3 pounds), scrubbed but not peeled

2 medium oranges

3 to 4 tablespoons finely grated fresh ginger, to taste

Salt

Arils (seeds) from 1 pomegranate* (about 1/3 cup), at room temperature

Place sweet potatoes in a large pot with enough water to cover. Bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to medium and cook, uncovered, until very soft, about 50 minutes.
Grate the zest from 1 orange and chop finely. Halve and juice both oranges, straining out any seeds. (You should have about 2/3 cup juice.)
Drain the potatoes in a colander and rinse with cold water; drain again. When just cool enough to handle, peel and cut into large chunks.
In a food processor or blender, working in batches if necessary, combine the sweet potato chunks, orange zest, orange juice, and ginger. Process until smooth. Season to taste with salt. Before serving, reheat gently in a saucepan or in the microwave. Transfer to a warmed shallow 1 1/2-quart serving bowl, and scatter pomegranate arils over the top. Makes about 5 ½ cups, to serve 6 to 8.

Cook’s Tip:

* When not handled properly, fresh pomegranates can create a mess, and airborne arils can stain everything in sight. Here’s the right way:

Cut a slit in the center of the pomegranate, large enough to insert both of your thumbs. (I also wear latex gloves, when I think of it.)
Submerge the pomegranate in a large bowl of cold water.
Working underwater, insert your thumbs into the slit and pull the fruit apart into 2 pieces. Use your fingers to loosen the arils from the white membrane within. The arils will float to the surface—rinsed and ready to be lifted out with a fine mesh strainer or your fingers.

A Happy Coincidence

I recently returned from a delightful vacation in France. On the first morning, over breakfast at a chateau in Normandy, I discovered that two of the people in our small tour group are diehard fans of ALIVE Magazine. How cool is that? (Bonjour, Valerie and Courtney!)

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Please note: Perhaps the following can be placed in a sidebar:

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The Life of Pie

For most of us, it wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without pie; specifically, pumpkin and/or apple. Here are a few things to keep in mind when shopping for ingredients at the farmers’ market.

Pumpkin

Pumpkins and other winter squash abound at the market. If you’re a purist who eschews anything that comes out of a can, don’t be tempted to buy the biggest pumpkin you can find. Instead, purchase several of a smaller variety (such as Sugar Pie or Cinderella) that are better suited for eating. Also consider buying organic.

Organically-grown pumpkins store better than those that have been force-fed with chemicals, mainly because artificial feeding changes the molecular structure of the vegetable so it takes on more water weight. This is obviously good news for the vendor sitting at a roadside pumpkin patch–selling big ol’ jack-o-lanterns by the pound–but it’s bad news for those of us who are looking for firm, flavorful squash.

And here’s another little factoid to ponder: Some canned “pumpkin” puree is actually made from a blend of one or more types of winter squash, such as butternut, Hubbard, or kabocha. These squash varieties can be less stringy and sweeter, with color richer than actual pumpkin. Because they fall under the same genus, the USDA does not make a distinction for labeling purposes.

There are actually a lot of people who insist butternut squash makes the best “pumpkin” pie!

Apple

Not surprisingly, the quality of apples you use in a pie makes all the difference.

If you think you’ll save money by using sour, wax-coated apples on sale at a supermarket, save yourself some work and just skip the whole process. You’ll be better off buying a pre-made pie from a reputable baker.

But if you want to treat your family to something special and shop the farmers’ market for tangy, tree-ripened apples such as McIntosh, Rome Beauty, Pink Lady, Golden Delicious, Granny Smith, or a combination thereof, get ready for some first-class all-American comfort food. It will be the pie everyone wishes their mom had made.

Eat, Drink & Be Scary

October 13, 2019 by Peggy Fallon Leave a Comment

I’m always puzzled by people from other states who complain there is no discernable change of seasons in California. I can only assume they’ve never visited a farmers’ market.

Having been born with no desire to rake bushels of leaves or shovel snow out of my driveway, I’m quite content to mark our subtle seasonal transitions with the current bounty of locally grown produce.

Though warm summer days are merely a memory, we can still stock up on end-of-season vine-ripened tomatoes. (And don’t forget to pick up some hard-to-find immature green tomatoes for frying.) Multi-color sweet bell peppers abound, as do tender arugula leaves; aromatic fennel; just-picked Brussels sprouts; and newly harvested sweet potatoes.

After months of outdoor entertaining, my nesting instincts have kicked in. I find it impossible to leave the farmers’ market without crunchy Asian pears and sweet grapes for snacking; a few glossy Hachiya persimmons to ripen on the kitchen counter; an armload of pomegranates to pile onto a delft platter for the dining table; voluptuous pears to admire in a wooden bowl until they find their way into salads or desserts; and—of course—a family of pumpkins and other big, gnarly winter squash to enchant even the most jaded spirits.

Beeswax candles and fresh flowers abound—now in ivory and shades of gold, rust, and sage. These are the transitional colors that dominate the next few weeks—at the farmers’ market, as well as at home.

This month ends with an explosion of pre-Holiday whimsy and pumpkin-spiced everything. But Halloween is not just about the boos. It’s also the perfect excuse to go a little batty with friends—with or without the benefit of costumes.

As legions of little boys and ghouls deplete your candy supply, scare up something spooktacular that doesn’t require adults to be seated at the table. And since you don’t want to be stuck alone in the kitchen on the scariest of nights, I’m bringing you a ghostly white recipe that can be made up to 3 days in advance. And easily doubled for a crowd. It’s magic from the farmers’ market.

A cauldron of warm and comforting soup, loaded with bewitching garnishes of your choosing, will cast the desired spell without breaking the bank. Serve alongside a monstrous green salad and crusty whole-grain artisan bread.

For dessert, skip the poison apples and instead bake some devilishly good ones into a pie or tart. It will be a dinner to die for.

Farmers’ Haute Potato Soup

2 tablespoons butter

1 large onion, chopped (about 2 cups total)

Salt

Dash of cayenne pepper

2 or 3 large garlic cloves, thinly sliced (to ward off vampires)

2 to 2 1/4 pounds russet (baking) potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch chunks

5 cups chicken or vegetable broth

1/2 cup heavy (whipping) cream

Eye of newt (optional)

Melt the butter in a soup pot or 4-quart saucepan over medium-low heat. Add the onion, season with salt and cayenne, and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened but not browned, 7 to 9 minutes. Stir in the garlic and cook until fragrant, about 1 minute.
Add the potatoes and broth. Increase the heat to medium-high and bring to a boil. Partially cover, reduce the heat to medium-low, and cook until the potatoes are very soft, 25 to 30 minutes.
Using an immersion (stick) blender, puree the soup. (Alternatively, let cool 10-15 minutes and then, working in small batches, puree in a blender and return the soup to the pot.)
Stir in the cream and cook over medium heat until warmed through. Taste, adding salt and more cayenne as needed. Ladle into bowls or mugs and let each guest garnish as desired. Makes about 8 cups, to serve 6.

Suggested Garnishes:

Freshly ground black pepper (or offer a peppermill)

Chopped fresh parsley and/or cilantro

Chopped fresh chives or green onions

Chopped fresh rosemary or thyme

Basil Pesto

Finely chopped jalapeno or serrano chile peppers

Thinly sliced spinach or arugula leaves

Sautéed mushrooms

Homemade croutons

Crumbled cooked bacon

Diced pancetta, cooked until nicely browned and crisp

Small chunks of cooked spicy sausage

Shredded cheese, such as cheddar or jack

Freshly grated parmesan cheese

Sour cream or crème fraiche

Savoring September

September 16, 2019 by Peggy Fallon Leave a Comment

September is one of my favorite months at the farmers’ market. Though the approach of fall is unmistakable in the cool morning air, afternoons provide all the glories of an extended summer.

This seasonal transition is most apparent at the Saturday farmers’ market, where we enjoy the best of both worlds. While Northern California continues to wallow in an embarrassment of riches—vine-ripened tomatoes, sweet corn, tender summer squash, crunchy cucumbers, plump eggplant, crisp peppers, juicy peaches, nectarines, berries, and a rainbow of melons—early fall crops like apples, dates, figs, grapes, persimmons, and pomegranates are gradually finding their way into the market.

This is the month when smart cooks rush to capture yet one more taste of summer by stocking up on end-of-season produce. If you happen to go a little overboard at the market, taking advantage of bargain prices by buying everything in sight, have no fear. Ratatouille may be the answer to your dilemma. (An overflowing bin of farm-fresh vegetables? Such problems!) But be forewarned: Next week you’ll probably purchase these very same ingredients, just to make another batch.

Ratatouille originated in Southern France—it’s a classic vegetable stew rich with olive oil and fragrant with garlic and herbs. Traditionally each vegetable is sautéed separately, before combining everything to cook low and slow until meltingly tender. It’s delicious—but also time-consuming to make and a bit of a mess. That’s not always the way I want to roll on an Indian summer day.

This streamlined version is roasted in the oven for convenience, providing a more concentrated vegetable flavor. I use a heavy roasting pan (that usually hasn’t seen the light of day since Thanksgiving), because the high sides contain the cooking juices released by the veggies.

The recipe provides very specific measurements for dicing the vegetables, but this is just intended as a guideline. This is a rustic dish, so don’t worry if your knife skills are less than stellar. Just keep everything about the same size as directed; and remember that if the vegetable pieces are larger, they are going to take longer to cook.

As long as I am firing up a hot oven this month, I want to make it worth my while—so this recipe yields a generous amount. Ratatouille is the perfect offering for summer potlucks or barbecues, but an equally practical addition to your home refrigerator. When you see how deliciously versatile this is—for breakfast, lunch, and dinner—you’ll be happy to have it on hand.

When possible, make this at least 1 day in advance. Like most stews, the flavors continue to develop and blend while cooling overnight in the refrigerator.

Ramblings on Ratatouille

Ratatouille can be eaten at once; stored in the refrigerator for up to 5 days; or frozen.

Serve as a side dish alongside grilled meat or fish; or, for a vegetarian entrée, over polenta (either soft & creamy, or firm & grilled), quinoa, couscous, or any other favorite grain.

Brush thick slices of artisan country bread with olive oil and grill until the edges are lightly charred. Top with ratatouille.

Fold into omelets or frittatas; or tuck inside pita bread and top with a handful of arugula for a first-class sandwich.

Toss ratatouille with pasta, a few capers, and serve with a generous shower of parmesan cheese.

Top ratatouille with crumbled California goat cheese, or go trendy with a poached or fried egg.

If you have a couple of ears of corn hanging out in the refrigerator, adding the kernels to ratatouille would not be a bad idea. (Veggies that grow together always go together.)

Ditto for adding one or two sliced hot or mild chile peppers. I have also successfully incorporated a few coarsely chopped pitted Kalamata olives; and sliced cooked sausage. All totally untraditional, but all delish.

Oven-Roasted Ratatouille

1 large onion, halved and cut into 1/2-inch thick slices

1 large eggplant, cut into 3/4-inch dice

4 small zucchini or other summer squash, cut into 3/4-inch dice

4 vine-ripened medium tomatoes, each cored and cut into 6 wedges

1 large red or yellow bell pepper, cut into 3/4-inch squares

6 large garlic cloves, peeled and crushed with the flat side of a knife

5 tablespoons California olive oil

1 1/2 teaspoons fine sea salt

1/4 teaspoon crushed hot red pepper flakes

2 sprigs fresh thyme

1/2 cup (packed) fresh basil leaves, torn or coarsely chopped

3 tablespoons chopped flat-leaf parsley

1 teaspoon balsamic or other wine vinegar

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

In a large roasting pan, combine the onion, eggplant, zucchini, tomatoes, bell pepper, and garlic. Drizzle with 4 tablespoons of the olive oil and season with the salt and pepper flakes. Spread into an even layer and tuck the thyme sprigs beneath the vegetables.

Roast until the vegetables begin to sizzle and release their juices, about 20 minutes. Stir; then continue cooking until the eggplant is very tender and the other vegetables are lightly browned at the edges, 20 to 30 minutes longer. If the eggplant is not soft, reduce the heat to 325 degrees and continue cooking until done.

Remove and discard the thyme sprigs. Stir in the remaining 1 tablespoon of olive oil, the basil, parsley, and vinegar. Taste, adding more salt if needed. Serve warm, at room temperature, or cold. Makes about 7 cups.

Lend Us Your Ears!

August 12, 2019 by Peggy Fallon Leave a Comment

It’s common knowledge that corn and tomatoes are the two summer vegetables that simply can’t be faked. Unless you hit a farm stand or grow your own, the only way to ensure the quality we’ve come to expect is to shop at the farmers’ market.

While there, load up on crunchy, bursting-with-flavor cucumbers; a spectrum of sweet and spicy peppers; mountains of tiny summer squash; and tender young green beans. The disappointment that may come with the waning profusion of locally-grown blueberries and blackberries is tempered only by the arrival of early apples and table grapes. And for desserts and warm-weather snacking, there’s still time to get our fill of juicy watermelon and glistening red strawberries.

All of this terrific produce heralds prime-time for homemade salsa. This one, dotted with oven-roasted sweet corn for depth of flavor, is a welcome diversion from the classic tomato-centric variety.

The recipe is quite forgiving; so vary the ingredients to suit your mood. A whiff of finely minced garlic; chopped fresh cilantro and/or creamy cubes of diced avocado would be right at home here.

It’s no surprise that Roasted Corn Salsa makes a terrific appetizer with tortilla chips; but also try it alongside grilled meat or fish, quesadillas, or scrambled eggs.

Roasted Corn Salsa with Poblano & Lime

Poblano chiles are usually rather mild, but some mavericks can be surprisingly hot. To err on the safe side, taste the roasted peppers before adding the full amount to the salsa.

2 fresh poblano chile peppers

Kernels from 4 ears of farm-fresh corn (about 2 cups)

1 tablespoon California olive oil

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 vine-ripened tomato, seeded and chopped

1 green onion (scallion), thinly sliced or chopped

2 tablespoons fresh lime juice

Place the peppers on a broiler pan or small baking sheet and broil as close to the heat as possible, turning with tongs, until charred all over, about 10 minutes. (Alternatively, roast the peppers directly over a gas flame, turning, until charred, about 5 minutes.) Seal the peppers in a paper bag and let steam for at least 10 minutes. When cool enough to handle. Peel and/or rub off as much of the blackened skin as possible. (It’s okay if small bits of it remain.) Cut the peppers open and discard the stems and seeds. Finely dice the poblanos.

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. On a rimmed baking sheet, toss the corn kernels with the oil to coat. Season lightly with salt and pepper. Spread out the corn into an even layer and bake, stirring once or twice, until some of the kernels are lightly browned at the edges, 10 to 15 minutes. Scrape into a medium bowl and let cool slightly.

Add the diced poblanos, tomato, onion, lime juice, and 1/4 teaspoon salt. Toss gently to mix.

Transfer to a bowl and serve at once, or cover and refrigerate for up to 6 hours. Serve at room temperature or slightly chilled. Makes about 2 1/2 cups.

Recipe adapted from Great Party Dips by Peggy Fallon (John Wiley & Sons 2009)

A Bit of Corny Advice

There are dozens of varieties of corn, each of which differs according to sweetness and tenderness. To find which is best for you, ask the grower who is selling it. He or she has invested a lot of love into this crop, and will happily share their passion.

The minute corn is picked, its natural sugars begin to convert to starch. For the best possible flavor, serve corn the same day you purchase it. At most, refrigerate unhusked ears in a plastic bag for up to 3 days.

Mind your market manners! Peeling back the layers of husk to expose the kernels dries out the corn for other shoppers.

For the best flavor, avoid buying pre-shucked corn as it is nearly impossible to determine how long ago it was picked. Instead, look for tightly closed, plump green husks with fresh-looking cuts at their stems. The golden-brownish silk at the very top of the ear should appear glossy and feel slightly sticky.

Don’t shuck corn until you’re ready to use it. To remove the husks, peel down with a firm tug–and listen for that squeak of freshness. Pull off as many of the fine silks as you can, then wipe off the remaining threads of silk with a damp towel.

If boiling is your preferred method of cooking, freshly shucked ears require only 1 to 3 minutes.

Grilled corn on the cob is a little bit smoky and totally irresistible. And yet another delicious vehicle for consuming melted butter. It’s also warm, sweet, and slightly crunchy—with a preferred manner of eating that defies every rule of etiquette. To cook, place farm-fresh ears in their husks over a medium-high hot grill. (There’s no need to pre-soak in water.) Grill, turning occasionally, until evenly charred, 15 to 20 minutes. When cool enough to handle, the husks and silk will come off easily.

Removing kernels from long ears of corn can be problematic, if not outright dangerous. The tapered ears are wobbly and impossible to keep in place, and the kernel trajectory as you cut can be downright frustrating. A little bit of prep work will make the job a snap: Place a small cutting board in the middle of a rimmed baking sheet. Cut each shucked ear of corn in half crosswise. Working one at a time, carefully hold the top of the cob with your fingers and firmly place the cut (flat) end of the ear on the cutting board. To remove the kernels, use a large, sharp knife to cut downward with a gentle sawing motion. The ears remain more stable this way, and the baking sheet will catch any flying kernels. Scrape the bare cobs with the dull side of a knife to release flavorful milky juices to add whatever corny dish you’re preparing, and freeze those naked cobs to flavor soup stock.

If you find yourself with an extra ear or two in the refrigerator, consider removing the kernels and tossing them into a green salad. Other fitting destinations include pancakes or waffles, muffins or cornbread, polenta, pasta, omelets, or any sort of veggie stir-fry.

Bring on the Zukes!

July 10, 2019 by Peggy Fallon Leave a Comment

July’s farmers’ market is a veritable buffet for healthy eating. Each aisle provides temptations of the finest kind, with just-picked sweet corn, crunchy cucumbers, juicy berries, and perfectly ripe watermelon. Vine-ripened tomatoes, of course, are the biggest draw; but don’t overlook the mounds of summer squash in glistening shades of green and gold.

The generic term “squash” covers two very different vegetables. Winter squash, i.e., hard-skinned varieties like acorn, butternut, Kabocha, and pumpkin, store well and tide us through the colder months. Once warm weather returns, thin-skinned summer squash comes into season, i.e., the ubiquitous zucchini and its many kin, like yellow crookneck squash, golden zucchini, the round Eight Ball, and the pale green or yellow disk-shaped pattypan with scalloped edges.

Unlike their cold-weather cousins, summer squash is both easy to prepare and quick to cook. Steamed, sautéed, grilled, broiled, baked, braised, microwaved, stuffed, breaded and fried, tucked into omelets or frittatas, added to stews, pickled, or simply eaten raw, summer squash is a deliciously economical addition to everything from appetizers to desserts. (Shredded raw summer squash stirred into a muffin, cake, or quick bread batter provides extra moisture as well as nutrients…and manages to dupe unsuspecting veggi-phobes of all ages.)

As any home gardener knows, summer squash plants are zealously prolific. Oversleep one warm summer morning and you’ll end up with zucchini the size of a zeppelin. (You know, like the ones your neighbors try to unload on you.) But bigger is not always better in the vegetable world. These oversized squash are flavorless or—worse yet—bitter; with unpalatably large seeds and a tough, watery, or spongy texture.

Nor should you let those limp, overblown batons of out-of-season blandness found at supermarkets throughout the year influence your opinion of this entire species. Shopping at the farmers’ market ensures you will find only firm young vegetables with creamy flesh and a distinctively mild, slightly nutty flavor. Summer squash the way it’s supposed to taste. At its peak of perfection.

Serving a simple platter of sliced garden-fresh tomatoes is always a good idea this month, but when company’s coming you may want to up your game. The answer to this dilemma may very well be a gratin.

A gratin gets its name from the dish in which it is baked. Gratin dishes are specially designed to be wide and shallow to afford a large surface area that promotes the development of a crispy crust on top. In this case summer squash and tomatoes are flecked with herbs and layered decoratively over a bed of meltingly tender onions, then topped with a flavorful crust of parmesan cheese. What’s not to like?

Serve this either warm or at room temperature, alongside your favorite grilled or roasted protein. Alternatively, make it the vegetarian star of the meal, with a supporting cast of mixed baby greens and a crusty loaf of artisan bread.

Herbed Summer Vegetable Gratin

5 tablespoons California olive oil, plus extra to grease the baking dish

1 1/4 cups freshly grated parmesan, asiago, or other hard cheese

2 medium onions, halved and thinly sliced

2 garlic cloves, finely chopped

1/4 cup chopped fresh thyme, or other herb(s) such as basil, rosemary, and/or parsley

4 medium vine-ripened tomatoes, cored and cut into 1/4-inch slices

1 1/2 pounds assorted young summer squash, such as green and golden zucchini, cut diagonally into 1/4-inch thick slices

1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt

1/8 teaspoon crushed hot red pepper flakes, to more taste

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Lightly grease the inside of an 8- x 11-inch oval gratin (or other shallow 2-quart baking dish) with olive oil. Set aside half of the cheese to sprinkle over the top.

In a medium saute pan or skillet, heat 2 tablespoons of the olive oil over medium heat. Add the onions and cook, stirring occasionally, until very soft and golden brown, 20 to 30 minutes. Keep an eye on the temperature; if the onions begin to brown too quickly, reduce the heat to medium-low. Stir in the garlic and cook just until fragrant, 30 seconds to 1 minute. Remove from the heat and stir in 1 tablespoon of the thyme. Spread the onion mixture evenly over the bottom of the prepared baking dish. Set aside to cool.

Place the tomato slices on a wire rack set over a baking sheet and let drain for 5 to 10 minutes. Discard the collected juices, or reserve for another use.*
In a medium bowl, combine the summer squash, 1 1/2 tablespoons of the oil, 2 tablespoons of the thyme, 1/4 teaspoon of the salt, and the pepper flakes. Toss gently to mix.

Starting at one end of the baking dish, arrange a row of slightly overlapping tomato slices across the width of the dish and sprinkle lightly with cheese. Next, arrange a row of squash slices to overlap the tomatoes by about two-thirds, and sprinkle with cheese. Repeat with overlapping layers of tomatoes and squash, sprinkling cheese lightly over each, until the bottom of the dish is covered.

Sprinkle the remaining 1/4 teaspoon salt over the top, and drizzle with the remaining 1 1/2 tablespoons oil. Mix the reserved cheese with the remaining 1 tablespoon of thyme and sprinkle evenly over the top. Bake until the gratin is nicely browned and the juices have bubbled and thickened, 65 to 70 minutes. Let stand at least 15 minutes before serving. Serves 6 to 8 as a side dish.

*Cook’s Tip: That seemingly watery juice given off by the tomatoes packs a lot of flavor. For a refreshing treat, strain, chill, and serve in a shot glass.

Getting Squashed

—Summer squash are actually gourds harvested at an immature age, while their seeds are unformed and skins are edible.

–Look for zucchini no larger than 5 inches in length or 1 1/4 inches in diameter. The skin should appear firm, slightly glossy, and free of nicks, shriveling, or any soft spots.

–Store summer squash, unwashed, in an open plastic bag in the crisper drawer of your refrigerator for up to 4 days. Baby varieties are more perishable, and should be used within 2 days.

–One cup of chopped raw zucchini contains about 20 calories, 0 grams of fat; 12 mg sodium; 2 grams protein; 4 carbs; plus vitamins A and C, and small amounts of calcium and iron.