Peggy Fallon

Focus on Fall Entertaining

October 9, 2012 by Peggy Fallon Leave a Comment

Around this time last year my friend Sue was sitting in a medical office in Walnut Creek, waiting for an x-ray, when she entered into a lively conversation with another patient. (Sue is like that.) The topic eventually turned to food; and the other woman shared the secret of her favorite almost-instant appetizer.

As luck would have it, Sue was scheduled to come to my house for lunch that afternoon. And she showed up carrying a grocery bag with a container of mascarpone cheese, a pomegranate, a jar of honey, and a bag of pita chips. She then proceeded to assemble the ingredients in less time than it took to polish off a glass of Chardonnay. The three of us “ladies who lunch”—BFF’s since 4^th grade—proceeded to plow right on through it, leaving little more than a few errant pomegranate seeds on the plate. I don’t remember what I served for lunch that day, but I definitely remember the appetizer.

Even though I certainly ate my fill (and then some) and relished every creamy bite, I kept thinking a piece was missing from this puzzle. So with a winning combination of flavors to start with, I set out to improve the recipe. (I’m like that.) And I think I succeeded. Even Sue, who eschews spending any unnecessary time in the kitchen, agrees this glammed-up version is still plenty easy — and tastes even better than the original.

I must have served this a zillion times over the holidays last year. And once again I intend to stock up on pomegranates and honey at the farmers’ market during this busy season, so I’ve always got the makings for a delicious appetizer that’s ready in a flash.

I’m also thinking about giving this a temporary name-change when I serve it to friends on Halloween, as the glistening pomegranate seeds give a slightly “blood & guts” look fitting for the occasion. Hey, I’m just sayin’…

Meanwhile, I can barely wait until Sue needs another x-ray. Recipes as good as this one are hard to come by.

Sue’s Mascarpone “Sundae”

When not handled properly, fresh pomegranates can make a mess and their airborne seeds can stain everything in sight. Cooking pro Paula Wolfert is credited with discovering the life-changing solution described below.

1 (8 ounce) tub mascarpone cheese
1 pomegranate
1/4 cup finely chopped crystallized (candied) ginger
3 to 4 tablespoons Garlic Honey (recipe follows) or plain, locally-produced honey
Lightly salted Pita Chips for serving

Using a small spatula or a blunt knife, loosen the mascarpone from the edges of its container; then invert the cheese onto a serving plate. (Don’t worry if it doesn’t come out perfectly. Any flaws will soon be hidden.)

Make a slit in the center of the pomegranate, large enough to insert both of your thumbs. (I also suggest wearing latex gloves, if you have them.) 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 seeds from the white membrane within. The seeds will float to the surface—rinsed and ready to be drained before using. (Pomegranate Arithmetic: 1 medium pomegranate = 1/3 cup pomegranate seeds.)
Scatter the pomegranate seeds over the mascarpone, and top with crystallized ginger. Drizzle Garlic Honey over all, and serve with a small knife for spreading onto pita chips. Serves 4 to 6.

Garlic Honey

Years ago I was introduced to garlic honey by L. John Harris, luminary in the Berkeley food scene of the 1970’s and author of The Book of Garlic and The Official Garlic Lovers Handbook. I love the way garlic lends a savory (and semi-addictive) punch to honey. Once you’ve tasted it, you’ll never look back.

12 ounces locally-produced honey (about 1 scant cup)
5 to 6 garlic cloves, peeled and crushed with the flat side of a knife

In a small saucepan, combine the honey and garlic. Cook over low heat just until warmed through, about 5 minutes. Let cool. Pour the mixture into a jar or other airtight container and let stand 48 hours at room temperature to blend flavors. Use at once, or refrigerate indefinitely and return to room temperature before using. (You can strain out the garlic, if you like—but I prefer to keep it visible.) Makes about 1 cup.

Use Garlic Honey in the above recipe, or as an accompaniment to cornbread or biscuits; drizzled over a wedge of Gorgonzola cheese; or as a last-minute basting glaze for pork, chicken, or duck.

Oven-Baked Pita Chips

For purists who prefer not to use commercially-made pita chips, here’s an easy way to make a healthier version at home. Pocket bread makes deliciously crispy, low-fat chips to serve with dips and spreads. The pita triangles take on a natural curl as they bake, giving them added character. Serve plain, or seasoned as suggested in the variations below.

4 white or whole wheat pita pocket breads (6- to 7-inches in diameter)

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Split the pita breads horizontally to make 8 rounds. Stack the rounds on top of each other and cut into 6 pie-shaped wedges.
Lay the pita wedges flat in a single layer on one or more baking sheets. Bake until crisp and barely browned at the edges, 7 to 10 minutes. Let cool. If made in advance, store airtight at room temperature for up to 2 days. Makes 48 pita chips.

Variations:

Golden Pita Chips
Before baking, lightly brush the rough side of each pita triangle with California olive oil and sprinkle with a few grains of coarse salt.
Not-Really-Naked Pita Chips
Before baking, lightly brush the rough side of each pita triangle with plain or flavored California olive oil (such as garlic, basil, or lemon oil), or spray with no-stick cooking spray.
Cheesy Pita Chips
Before baking, sprinkle the rough side of each pita triangle with freshly grated Parmesan cheese.
Herbed Pita Chips
Before baking, lightly brush the rough side of each pita triangle with California olive oil and sprinkle with a dash of dried herbs, such as dill weed or crushed fennel seed.
Spiced Pita Chips
Before baking, lightly brush the rough side of each pita triangle with California olive oil and sprinkle lightly with a spice, such as ground cumin, smoked paprika, or zahtar, a Middle Eastern blend of sesame seeds, powdered sumac, and dried thyme.

A timely reminder: The Danville Certified Farmers’ Market is made possible through the generous support of the Town of Danville. Show your appreciation by supporting the many fine shops and restaurants located in downtown Danville. Buy fresh. Buy local. Live well.

The Danville Certified Farmers’ Market, located at Railroad and 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.com.

September Song

September 3, 2012 by Peggy Fallon Leave a Comment

In the early morning hours when it’s cool and still outdoors, fall is definitely in the air. This seasonal transition is all the more apparent at the farmers’ market. Although 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, berries, and a rainbow of melons—early fall crops like apples, dates, figs, grapes, persimmons, and pomegranates are finding their place in the market. The best of both worlds.

The following recipe embraces the whole summer-meets-comfort-food thing; a ridiculously simple way to savor fleeting seasonal flavors in a warm and cozy one-pot meal. Add some lightly-dressed salad greens and a loaf of crusty artisan bread from the farmers’ market, and dinner is complete. A mélange of sliced farm-fresh peaches, strawberries, and raspberries for dessert—with or without a dollop of cream or a scoop of frozen yogurt—will make you very popular, indeed.

Except for the basil — which would darken — all the ingredients can be prepared hours in advance; but the risotto must be cooked just before serving. This is not a negative. Risotto is nothing more than fast-food cooked slowly. Think of it as the opposite of a flash-in-the-pan stir-fry One bite, and you will agree that creamy, just-made risotto is worth every minute spent over the stove.

As is the case with so many recipes, success is simply dependent upon your organizational skills, as well as your ability to follow directions (cough-cough). Before you begin cooking, have all the ingredients prepped and arranged on the counter in the order in which you will use them. Once that is done, this inexpensive, restaurant-quality dish will go together effortlessly.

There is something very relaxing about stirring a pot of risotto, wine glass in hand, letting the heavenly aromas waft through the house, eventually drawing everyone into the kitchen. Or maybe it’s just that open bottle of wine that does the trick… Whichever it is, celebrate these back-to-school days with a farm-fresh family dinner. Even if it’s just the two of you.

End-of-Summer Risotto

2 ears farm-fresh corn, shucked
2 tablespoons California olive oil
1 garlic clove, minced
6 ounces tender young green beans, trimmed and cut into 1-inch pieces (about 1 cup)
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 small onion, finely chopped
1 cup arborio other short-grain white rice
1/2 cup dry white wine
4 cups hot chicken or vegetable broth
1 cup coarsely chopped vine-ripened tomatoes
2 tablespoons chopped or torn fresh basil leaves, plus extra for garnish
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese, plus extra for serving

Working one at a time, cut each ear of corn in half crosswise with a large, sharp knife. Securely hold the half-ear upright on a cutting board, with its cut-side planted firmly on the surface. Cut downward with the knife, “shaving” the kernels from the cob.* Working over a bowl and using the back (dull) side of the knife, scrape off all the “milk” remaining on the cob, letting it drain into the bowl. (This milky liquid–found only in farm-fresh corn–adds nutrients, flavor, and body to the finished dish.) Repeat with the remaining corn. You will end up with about 1 1/4 cups of kernels.
In a sauté pan, Dutch oven, or other heavy-bottom wide saucepan, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the garlic and cook, stirring, until just fragrant, about 30 seconds. Stir in the corn kernels and green beans and season with salt and pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the beans are crisp-tender and bright green, 3 to 5 minutes. Remove the vegetables with a slotted spoon and set aside.
In the same pot, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring occasionally with a wooden spoon, until softened but not browned, 3 to 5 minutes. Add the rice and cook, stirring often, 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.
Add the reserved corn, green beans, and corn milk; then stir in the tomatoes and basil. Cook, stirring gently, until just warmed through, about 1 minute. Remove from the heat and stir in the Parmesan. Taste, adding salt and pepper as needed. Serve at once in warmed shallow bowls or plates and garnish with more basil. Pass extra Parmesan at the table. Serves 4.

(Leftover risotto is generally unheard of at my house, but should you find yourself with some left in the pot: Form cold risotto into patties and sauté in a bit of butter or oil until nicely browned on both sides; then serve with a salad.)

* Halving the ears makes cutting off the kernels less cumbersome. For another bit of added insurance before you get started, place the cutting board inside a large rimmed baking sheet. This should catch any fly-away kernels.

Haute August Nights

August 5, 2012 by Peggy Fallon Leave a Comment

For those who hate to cook, the August farmers’ market is Xanadu. Any summertime sleuth can leave the market with enough peak-of-the-season, almost-ready-to serve produce to carry them through a week of dinners. These latter-day happy meals can be effortlessly assembled from vine-ripened tomatoes paired with fragrant fresh basil and a drizzle of golden California olive oil; crunchy cucumbers with spicy red onions; and ears of sweet corn briefly blanched or grilled—or scraped off the cob and added raw to salads. Quick-to-cook summer squash abounds, just begging to line up on the grill with fat eggplants and a rainbow of sweet bell peppers. There’s always a selection of crusty artisan breads on hand for sandwiches and bruschetta and such.

And impromptu desserts can be fashioned without difficulty from the abundance of juicy plums, pluots, peaches, nectarines, watermelons, cantaloupes and their various cousins, and bodacious berries galore. Kitchen duty is easy peasy. But for those of us who love to cook, the options are even more irresistible.

I’ll let you in on a closely guarded secret: boysenberries are my hands-down all-time favorite fruit. Even as a kid, I remember first tasting them and thinking, “Oh yeah. This is it,” even when I knew of nothing better than to scatter them over my breakfast cereal. To me, they epitomize the perfect balance of tart-to-sweet; and are just as good eaten fresh as they are baked. The fact they are rarely seen in supermarkets only adds to their mystique.

Lately, each week I have had Big Plans to buy enough boysenberries to whip up a vat of jam I’ll be able to savor throughout the coming year, but my precious bounty is usually depleted way too soon…starting with the ride home from the farmers’ market, when it’s far too easy to just pop these little bad boys into my mouth, one right after another. (sigh)

Boysenberry season is woefully brief —a nd this month signals their swan song at the farmers’ market. So I now conjure up all the fortitude I can muster and bravely force myself to spread the boysenberry gospel to others, in the form of my favorite cobbler.

There are a zillion different types of cobbler toppings, and most of them are divine. (But then, I’ve yet to meet a carbohydrate I didn’t like. But that’s a whole other story.) This particular cobbler is geared toward those of us who crave good pie crust as much as whatever might happen to be inside of it. Filled with boysenberries lightly punctuated with sweet nectarines, this cobbler embodies the flavors of a world-class pie—without any of the angst that often goes along with making one. In this case, conventional beauty plays a secondary role to taste. Think of it as a deep-dish crostata.

The crushed sugar cubes on top — a nod to American cooking legend Edna Lewis — provide a sweet bit of added texture. If you don’t have any sugar cubes hidden away in the pantry, just sprinkle granulated sugar over the top. No one is going to complain.

Boysenberry-Nectarine Cobbler
For the crust:

5 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, plus 1 tablespoon softened butter for greasing the dish
4 tablespoons solid vegetable shortening
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup ice water

For the filling:

2/3 cup granulated sugar
2 tablespoons cornstarch
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 cups fresh boysenberries*
2 cups very coarsely chopped (1-inch chunks) pitted nectarines
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon cold butter, cut into bits

For the topping:

4 sugar cubes, coarsely crushed, or 2 teaspoons granulated sugar

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To make the cobbler crust: Cut the cold butter into 1/2-inch cubes, and divide the shortening into pieces about the same size. Place on a plate and freeze until very firm, about 30 minutes.

In a food processor, combine the flour and salt. Process briefly to combine. Add the frozen butter and shortening and process, pulsing the machine on and off, until the irregularly-sized pieces of fat are coated with flour. With the machine running, gradually pour in the ice water. Process just until the mixture is evenly moistened yet still appears somewhat crumbly, with pea-size pieces of fat visible throughout the dough. (The dough should be just starting to come together—it should NOT form a ball.) Turn out the mixture onto a large piece of plastic wrap and knead a couple of times to form a uniform disk. Cover with the plastic wrap and refrigerate until firm, at least 30 minutes or overnight.

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Butter the inside of a 9-by-2-inch (deep dish) pie plate or other shallow 2-quart baking dish. Refrigerate the buttered baking dish while you prepare the rest of the recipe.

To make the filling: In a large bowl, whisk together the sugar, cornstarch, and salt to blend. Add the berries and nectarines, and sprinkle with lemon juice. Toss gently to coat with the sugar mixture

On a lightly floured surface, roll the chilled pastry into a raggedy 14- to 15-inch circle. Then roll the pastry over the rolling pin, window-shade fashion, and ease it into the chilled pie plate, letting the excess pastry drape over the edges of the plate. Scrape the fruit mixture and any accumulated juices into the pastry and dot with butter. Fold the excess pastry up over the filling, pleating if needed. The pastry will not cover the all fruit; if any pieces of pastry have fallen off, just patch them on top. (Don’t go for perfection here; you want to topping to have a rustic appearance.) Sprinkle the crushed sugar cubes over the pastry. Bake until the filling is bubbly-hot and the crust is golden, 45 to 50 minutes. Let cool at least 30 minutes before serving. Serve slightly warm or at room temperature. ((This is best served the same day it is made. If made early in the day, it can be reheated, uncovered, in a 325 degree oven.) Serves 6 generously…or possibly more, when served alongside vanilla ice cream or frozen yogurt.

Just make sure you stash away enough cobbler for your own breakfast the next morning. You’ll hate yourself if you don’t.

* I find the 3-packs of boysenberries sold by several growers at the farmers’ market usually equal about 4 cups of berries. Substitute blackberries, if you like. That will leave more boysenberries at the market for me. Maybe then I’ll make that jam after all.

Berrylicious

July 7, 2012 by Peggy Fallon Leave a Comment

The July farmers’ market is a paradise of seasonal produce. Between peak-of-perfection corn; crispy cucumbers; colorful summer squash; plump eggplants; fragrant peaches and nectarines; juicy plums and pluots; an extensive variety of flavorful melons; sweet-tart raspberries, blackberries, boysenberries, and strawberries—not to mention those much sought-after vine-ripened tomatoes—a girl can go a little overboard shopping. And I do. Every week. And I never regret it.

After loading up on farm-fresh produce on Saturday mornings, lunches and dinners practically plan themselves for the rest of the week. It’s easy—and fun—to eat these delectable, healthy foods without spending a lot of time in the kitchen. But whenever you’re in the mood to play in the kitchen, there’s probably no better time of year to do it.

I was recently asked to judge a number of culinary entries at my local county fair; the first competition I attended was in the preserved foods category. Six judges were divided into teams of two, so we could taste our way through the almost-200 entries in one day. I paired up with a chef I know professionally, and we immediately high-tailed it over to the jams and jellies division, where the risk of botulism seemed less likely. (Just kidding, folks!)

As we systematically made our way down the long tables laden with glistening jars—holding each one up to the light to check appearance, popping lids, and madly scribbling tasting notes—I began to have serious doubts about my sense of taste. The overwhelming sensation I was getting was from sugary-sweetness—no fruit, and no acid. While gnawing on my tenth cracker in an effort to cleanse my palate, I mentioned this to my partner, who seemed almost relieved that I had spoken up. He not only agreed wholeheartedly, he added that if we were tasting these items blind, he’d be hard-pressed to identify the type of fruit that was used to make many of these jams. All we could assume is that the majority of the entrants began their preserving process with unripe or otherwise inferior fruit.

It was such an incredible waste, when you consider the time and the money spent preparing these products. So I think the message here is pretty obvious: canners and preservers beware. Your finished product is only as good as the ingredients you put into it. If you really want to capture the flavors of summer in a jar, start by using organic or other high-quality produce at its peak of ripeness. Chances are, you’re not going to find it at the warehouse store.

And when it comes to eating fresh summer fruit, simpler is usually better. I mean, is there anything better than a juicy, tree-ripened peach eaten out of hand? But granted, there are certain special occasions when you may want to glam things up a bit for your friends and family. For those times I’ve provided an easy recipe that looks appropriately showy, yet comes together without breaking a sweat. And in deference to the pastry-phobic, it relies on frozen puff pastry for its delicate, flaky crust. Use your favorite berry, or a mixed jumble of whatever fresh fruits you have on hand. If you’re interested in saving calories, substitute plain Greek-style yogurt for the mascarpone.

Jumbleberry Tart

1 sheet frozen puff pastry (half of a 17.25 ounce package), thawed as package directs
1 tub mascarpone cheese (about 8 ounces), at room temperature
1/2 cup heavy whipping cream, well chilled
2 tablespoons honey, or more, to taste
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
About 6 cups ripe berries, such as strawberries, raspberries, boysenberries, or blackberries
Confectioners’ (powdered) sugar, for garnish

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Unfold the cold puff pastry sheet onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. With the tip of a sharp knife, score a 3/4-inch border all around the pastry. Use the tines of a fork to prick the pastry all over within the border. (If the pastry has become soft, refrigerate or freeze it on the baking sheet for a few minutes until firm.) Bake until the pastry is puffed and golden and baked through, about 15 minutes. Lift the parchment to transfer the pastry onto a wire rack. Let cool completely, at least 15 minutes. (Pastry can be baked several hours in advance and left to stand at room temperature.)
Combine the mascarpone, cream, honey, and vanilla in a large bowl. Beat with an electric mixer until stiff peaks form. Taste, beating in more honey if you like.
Just before serving, spoon the cheese mixture into the crust, spreading evenly. Pile the berries on top and dust generously with powdered sugar. Cut into squares with a serrated knife. Serves 6. This tart is best eaten the same day it is made.

For more entertaining recipes, check out Peggy Fallon’s upcoming class at Draeger’s Blackhawk cooking school on Wednesday, August 8, at 6:30 p.m. For more information go to www.draegerscookingschool.com, or call 1-800-642-9463 ext. 261.

Time to Get Squashed!

June 10, 2012 by Peggy Fallon Leave a Comment

June heralds the long-awaited introduction to summer’s bounty, with newly harvested vegetables and stone fruits arriving each week at the farmers’ market. Look for a rainbow of crunchy sweet bell peppers; perfect little beets; baby leeks; new red onions; berries of every persuasion; tree-ripened apricots (be still, my heart!); plump cherries; juicy melons; and the first peaches and nectarines of the season. You’ll also see mounds of just-picked summer squash, and—when we’re lucky—delicate zucchini blossoms just begging for a quick dip in a lacy tempura-style batter.

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, soups and salads 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 vegi-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 young, tender 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.

The following recipe was inspired by one that appeared on the outstanding web site, www.food52.com. I love the combination of sweet-sour-salty-spicy-crunchy flavors, all punctuated with the heady perfume of fresh mint. Best of all, it tastes as good at room temperature as it does fresh off the stove.

Summer Squash with Toasted Almonds and Fresh Mint

Although this is just about perfect as is, for variation I sometimes swap fresh basil for the mint, or crumbled soft goat cheese for the Asiago.

1/3 cup sliced California almonds
1 1/2 pounds mixed small zucchini and yellow summer squash
4 tablespoons California olive oil
Salt
1/4 teaspoon crushed hot red pepper flakes, or more to taste
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1 tablespoon sherry wine vinegar
1/3 cup (packed) fresh mint leaves, cut into thin strips
1 small chunk of aged hard cheese, such as Asiago or Parmesan

In a small dry skillet, toast the almonds over medium heat, stirring often and watching carefully, until just fragrant and very lightly browned, 3 to 5 minutes. Set aside to cool.
Cut the zucchini and squash crosswise into pieces about 1-inch thick.
In a large sauté pan or skillet, warm about 3 tablespoons of olive oil over medium-high heat until very hot but not smoking. Working in batches if needed, add the squash without crowding and increase the heat to high. Season with salt and pepper flakes and cook, stirring and tossing frequently, until the squash is just tender and nicely browned on the edges, 3 to 5 minutes.
Reduce the heat to medium. Sprinkle the sugar and vinegar over the top and cook, stirring, until the sugar has melted, about 1 minute. Remove from the heat. Taste, adding more salt if necessary. Just before serving, stir in the reserved almonds and mint and drizzle with the remaining 1 tablespoon of oil. Use a vegetable peeler to shave cheese over the top. Serve warm or at room temperature. Serves 4 to 6.

Stalking the Wild Zucchini

Summer squashes are actually gourds harvested at an immature age, while their skins and seeds are still edible.
California is second only to Florida in summer squash production.
Look for zucchini that is 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 5 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.

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It’s the Pits!

May 1, 2012 by Peggy Fallon Leave a Comment

Late spring marks the start of stone fruit season. (So-called because these fruits contain a single pit, or “stone.”) First come cherries and then apricots, followed by peaches, nectarines, plums, and all their various hybrids. Unlike the tasteless, mealy imports found in supermarkets, your farmers’ market carries tree-ripened, locally grown fruit—just the way nature intended. One juicy bite and you’ll be hooked. I promise.

Cherry season starts off slowly with the arrival of the Black Tartarian and Burlat; followed by the blushing yellow Royal Anne and Rainier. Sour cherries, like the Montmorency or Morello are primarily grown outside of California, and valued mostly for pies, jam, and for drying. Most agree the West’s dark, sweet, meaty Bing is the quintessential cherry, followed closely by Lamberts and Vans.

Long before it was known as a search engine, Bing was just a cherry. (And, of course, a famous crooner.) A cross between the Tartarian and Royal Anne, the Bing was developed in Oregon in 1875 by Seth Lewalling. Legend has it that because he didn’t have enough money to pay his Chinese cook’s wages, he named the new cherry after him.

Here are some helpful cherry factoids:

Cherries should be shiny, plump, and firm.
A green stem is an indicator of a just-picked cherry.
Refrigerate cherries, unwashed, in an open plastic bag. It’s best to eat them within several days of purchase.
Cherries-on-the-stem tend to last longer.
Cherries contain vitamin C, and about 87 calories per cup.
Cherry juice can stain your hands, so you may want to wear latex gloves—and an apron—while pitting them.
A cherry-pitter is an inexpensive kitchen tool that makes the job a breeze. (It works a bit like a paper punch, forcing the pit out of the cherry.) Lacking one, just use the tip of a small, sharp knife.

Though not much can beat a cherry eaten out of hand, it’s fun to use them in unexpected ways. Act quickly, though, for cherry season is short but sweet…about 3 1/2 weeks, to be exact.

Spice things up: Transform pitted cherries into a zesty salsa by adding finely chopped red or green onion; minced jalapeño chile pepper; finely grated fresh ginger; coarsely chopped cilantro or mint; a tiny drizzle of olive oil, a pinch of salt; and fresh lemon or lime juice, to taste. Serve alongside pork or poultry; with a gooey jack cheese quesadilla; or for dipping tortilla chips.

Sweeten things up: Jazz up your favorite upside-down cake, substituting pitted fresh cherry and apricot halves for the usual canned fruit.

To preserve stemmed pitted cherries for baking year ‘round, flash-freeze them on a baking sheet until firm; then pack into freezer-safe bags or plastic containers. Use frozen.

Late Spring Fruit Salad: In a bowl, toss together stemmed, pitted, and halved cherries; cubes of ripe cantaloupe; pitted apricot halves (or quarters, if large); a pinch of salt; a splash of sweet white wine; and a few fresh mint leaves, cut into thin strips.

Salad Days: Grill a well-seasoned skirt or flank steak until nicely charred on the outside and pink in the middle. While the meat rests on a cutting board, make a mustardy balsamic vinaigrette. In a bowl, combine young arugula leaves and stemmed, pitted, and halved cherries; drizzle with just enough vinaigrette to coat lightly, and toss gently to mix. Spread the salad over a large platter. Cut the beef across the grain into thin slices and arrange on top of the salad. Top with crumbled blue or goat cheese, and a few toasted almonds. Serve with warm crusty bread.

Gilding the Lily: Add fresh cherries to your favorite chicken salad or rice pudding; layer them in trifles, or bake the classic French clafoutis. Pile fresh cherries on a cheese platter; or build an adult-ice cream sundae by first macerating cherries in kirsch, brandy, or amaretto. (Heat the fruit topping, and you’ve got Cherries Jubilee.) Or mix them into slightly-softened vanilla ice cream, with or without shards of semisweet chocolate, for a home-style take on one of the country’s favorite ice cream flavors.

For an elegant ending to a meal, rinse perfect ripe cherries and pat them dry. Working one at a time and holding each by the stem, dip the cherries in melted dark or white chocolate and transfer to a parchment-lined baking sheet; then refrigerate until the chocolate coating is firm. (This is an especially charming presentation for “twins”—2 cherries joined at the stem.) Just be sure to warn your guests these cherry-chocolate bonbons contain pits.)

Savoring the Moment: Forget those scary iridescent cherries sold in jars and make your own boozy ones to garnish cocktails or desserts. For each pint jar you’ll need about 1 pound of fresh cherries. Rinse them well and pat dry; pit them or not, as you like. (If you don’t pit them, prick each cherry 2 or 3 times so the liquor will penetrate the fruit.) Pack cherries into a sterilized jar, cover with bourbon, rye, brandy, kirsch, or Maraschino liqueur, and refrigerate. When all the cherries have been eaten, mix the remaining alcohol in cocktails.

Market Fresh – Sweet Peas

April 4, 2012 by Peggy Fallon Leave a Comment

I always seem to have a package of frozen peas in my freezer “for an emergency.” And I think the last time I used them was indeed an emergency—when I needed an ice pack to soothe a grandson’s skinned knee.

There’s nothing wrong with eating frozen peas, of course. They are one of those vegetables that freeze pretty well. I just never seem to find an occasion to serve them; preferring, instead, to eat what is fresh and in season. Frozen peas are good for emergencies. Fresh peas are good to eat.

If you question whether there is really that much of a difference in flavor and texture, this is the month to find out once and for all. Spring is bursting through at the farmers’ market, and winter veggies are on the way out. Asparagus, artichokes, peas, fava beans — this kaleidoscope of green is nature’s sneak preview of all the wonderful things ahead.

After stocking up at the farmers’ market on sunny April mornings, I’m often inspired to continue the pace. Blame it on the mounds of fragrant strawberries, the tender little greens, or the riot of spring flowers available, but I want all of that beauty to follow me home.

More often than not I’ll toss my purchases in a cooler in the trunk of my car and spend the rest of the afternoon combing through local (and not-so-local) nurseries, buying up colorful annuals to perk up my patio garden. And getting more pricey landscaping ideas than I’ll ever put to use.

Although I consider this a perfectly legit way to while away the hours, it doesn’t leave a lot of time to make dinner when I get home. In fact, my ideal Saturday family dinner usually involves uncomplicated, comforting foods that are already in my refrigerator or pantry. (Or trunk.) A yummy meal prepared on the fly. Preferably while wearing high heels.

Here’s a speedy one-pot recipe that combines a vegetable and starch in one delish dish. Serve it alongside grilled wild salmon, and dinner is done. For dessert? Sliced farm-fresh strawberries, with or without a scoop of vanilla frozen yogurt. Spring at its finest. And prepared in a flash.

Fresh Peas with New Potatoes and Mint

8 ounces tiny red or white new potatoes, scrubbed clean*
1 1/2 cups shelled fresh peas (1 1/2 pounds peas in the pod)
1/4 cup water
Salt
4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, cut into 4 pieces
1 1/2 tablespoons chopped fresh mint leaves
Freshly ground pepper

Preparation:

In a large saucepan, cook the potatoes in boiling salted water over medium-high heat until tender when pierced with the tip of a sharp knife, 10 to 15 minutes. Discard the cooking water, but don’t bother to rinse out the pot. Drain the potatoes in a colander.
In the same saucepan, combine the peas, water, about 1/4 teaspoon salt, and 1 tablespoon of the butter. Cover and cook over medium-high heat until the peas are barely tender and turn bright green, 2 to 3 minutes.
Add the warm potatoes and the remaining butter. Cook uncovered, shaking the pan gently, until the butter melts and becomes creamy and sauce-like, 1 to 2 minutes longer. Taste, seasoning with salt and pepper as needed. Stir in the mint and serve at once.

Serves 4.

*If you have only larger potatoes on hand, cut them into 1-inch chunks

Pea Primer

There are basically two kinds of peas: English peas (aka common garden peas) that must be shelled to eat the “seeds” inside; and snow peas and sugar snap peas, which have edible pods. Sugar snap peas are plump; while snow peas—a favorite in Chinese cuisine—are flat.
Although there are “string-less” sugar snap peas on the market now, most other varieties have a tough string running along the length of the pod. To remove it, snap off the leaf end and pull down on the string. (This is a mindless chore best done while watching television, or staring into space. Ditto for shelling fresh English peas.)
Like corn, the sugars contained within peas convert to starch shortly after harvesting, so it’s best to buy them fresh at the farmers’ market and eat them as soon as possible.
Easy does it! An over-cooked pea is a sorry thing. Strictly speaking, peas do not require cooking—though giving them a quick sauté or blanch in boiling water will intensify their color and mellow their flavor ever so slightly.
One of my favorite go-to salad/side dishes comes from Ina Garten, and requires absolutely no cooking: Trim the ends from sugar snap peas, and remove strings if needed. Toss the uncooked sugar snaps with barely enough Asian sesame oil to coat lightly. (Be miserly here. Don’t think of the oil as “salad dressing;” add only enough to make the peas glisten.) Sprinkle with toasted white or black sesame seeds and serve at room temperature. You will be amazed.
Regardless of which variety you buy, always inspect the packaging: look for plump, glossy green pea pods, crisp and free of blemishes.
Peas taste best when eaten the same day they were picked. When that is not possible, store them in an open plastic bag in the crisper drawer of the refrigerator.
Pea Arithmetic: one pound of English peas-in-the-pod yields 1 cup of shelled peas.

Seeing Green – Market Fresh

March 10, 2012 by Peggy Fallon Leave a Comment

Given my heritage, one might think March would be all about St. Patrick’s Day. And—well, okay—I admit to giving that particular holiday perhaps more than its fair share of attention. But as soon as I spot the first bunches of asparagus at the farmers’ market, I become slightly obsessed by a different shade of green.

I’m not talking about the same asparagus we see every month throughout the year; the stuff that was shipped halfway around the world before ending up under the fluorescent lights of the warehouse store. That asparagus is bred to look picture-perfect, but tends to be tough and usually lacks any significant flavor. No, my Irish eyes gravitate to the season’s first young, tender stalks from the Delta. Step aside, tulips and daffodils. In my book, asparagus is the undisputed harbinger of spring.

I will gladly don my rain boots early every Saturday morning just to stock up on this, the most elegant of vegetables. But best of all, asparagus means that peas, artichokes, and fava beans are just around the corner. Literally. Only a few stalls away from juicy, locally-grown strawberries.

ASPARAGUS TIPS

When buying asparagus, select firm, bright green stalks with little or no white and tight, dry tips. Asparagus breaks down quickly after harvesting, losing sugar and moisture, so check the ends; if they are shriveled and dry, the stalks are old.
If you can’t resist the exotic, remember that white asparagus is comparatively a bit bland; and purple asparagus turns green when cooked.
White asparagus is the very same vegetable; it’s just grown differently. The stalks are covered with soil during the growing period to block out the sun, so they never produce chlorophyll—and never turn green.
To ensure even cooking time, choose asparagus spears that are all about the same thickness
Thick or thin? Like people, it’s often the luck of the draw. Asparagus plants live 8 to 10 years. Young plants produce thin asparagus; mature plants tend to produce thicker spears. It’s as simple as that.
To store, wrap unwashed asparagus in a damp paper towel and refrigerate in an open plastic bag for up to 4 days. If the spears begin to go limp after 2 or 3 days, rehydrate by cutting a bit off the ends and standing them upright in a container filled with about an inch of water; cover loosely with a plastic bag and refrigerate for an hour or two.
To remove tough ends from asparagus before cooking: Hold a spear near the middle with one hand and near the bottom-end with the other hand. Gently bend the asparagus; it will snap apart at the spot where it begins to get tough. (If you’re a neat-nik, go ahead and trim the ends with a knife.) Discard the tough ends….or freeze them for stock, or toss them in the compost pile.

STALKING RECIPE IDEAS

Steam or stir-fry it if you prefer, but roasting asparagus highlights its inherent grassy-nutty flavor. To roast asparagus: On a rimmed baking sheet, toss asparagus with just enough olive oil to coat lightly. Spread the spears in an even layer and season with salt and pepper. Roast in a preheated 425 degree oven, shaking the pan once or twice, until lightly browned at the edges and the stems are crisp-tender, 7 to 12 minutes, depending on the thickness.
Serve roasted asparagus as is, or topped with a shower of grated cheese or toasted sliced almonds. Or, for a change, brown panko breadcrumbs in butter with a bit of finely chopped fresh mint and lemon zest; then scatter over the top.
If you’ve already fired up the outdoor grill, toss the uncooked spears lightly with olive oil and arrange them diagonally on the grill (so they don’t fall through) and cook, turning with tongs, for 4 to 8 minutes, until crisp-tender. You’ll get that same delicious caramelization that comes from oven-roasting. Indoor grills work perfectly well, too—though it may take a bit longer to cook.
For a slightly addictive appetizer, dip fresh asparagus spears in a tempura or light beer batter. Deep-fry and serve warm, with either a squeeze of lemon or a dipping sauce.
Roast asparagus spears until just barely tender. When cool enough to handle, wrap with paper-thin slices of prosciutto or other ham, roast beef, or turkey. Serve at room temperature.
Why not a raw asparagus salad? Trim off and discard the ends from the fattest spears you can find; then shave them lengthwise on a mandolin or other mechanical slicer. Season the thin slices with salt and pepper, then toss with fruity California olive oil and a squeeze of fresh lemon juice. Use a vegetable peeler to shave Parmesan cheese over the top.
When you find thin asparagus, try Chef Anne Burrell’s take on the raw asparagus salad: Cut the trimmed spears crosswise into thin rounds; then toss with diced red onion and plenty of finely grated Pecorino cheese. Drizzle with red wine vinegar and fruity olive oil, and season with kosher salt.
Trim and lightly steam a few baby artichokes. Cut them in half lengthwise; then toss with olive oil and roast in the oven along with fresh asparagus spears and halved tiny fingerling potatoes. Toss with a lemon-caper vinaigrette and serve slightly warm or at room temperature. (Adding a handful of steamed fava beans will only make this better.)
Make an Asian-inspired salad by topping cooled roasted asparagus with a squeeze of fresh orange juice and a drizzle each of sesame oil and soy sauce. Sprinkle with toasted sesame seeds and garnish with peeled orange slices.
Tuck roasted asparagus in omelets, quiche, or frittatas dotted with crumbled California goat cheese; or in simple pasta dishes or risotto.
Glam up brunch by serving a poached egg over roasted asparagus spears, with or without a slice of smoked salmon or Fontina cheese … or a generous drizzle of Hollandaise. Serve slices of toasted crusty artisan bread on the side

The Danville Certified Farmers’ Market, located at Railroad and Prospect, is open every Saturday, rain or shine, from 9am until 1pm. For specific crop information call the Pacific Coast Farmers’ Market Association at 1-800-949-FAR, or visit their web site at www.pcfma.com.

Market Fresh – Romancing the Radish

January 29, 2012 by Peggy Fallon Leave a Comment

When spring is still a whisper away, it’s a good time to explore the cool-weather vegetables we normally take for granted….and I’m hard-pressed to think of one more overlooked than the humble radish.

Often dismissed as little more than a colorful afterthought for crudité platters, there is probably not a grocery store in California that doesn’t keep a permanent mound of red radish bunches piled high in the produce department (or, worse yet, stripped of their leaves and decaying in plastic bags.) Unfortunately, more often than not these little orbs are unpalatably peppery, giving the entire genus a bad rep.

Although available year ‘round, radishes are just now coming into their finest season. And if you’ve limited your past consumption to only the red globe varieties, you are in for a very affordable surprise at the farmers’ market.

Members of the mustard family, radishes are root vegetables that resemble tiny beets or turnips. Aficionados reach for the reliably mild Flambo or French Breakfast radish, so chic with its elongated shape, red shoulders, and white tip. White Icicle radishes are, as the name suggests, long, thin, and snowy white. The rounded Easter Egg radish comes in varying shades of red, pink, purple, and white; often bundled together for visual appeal.

It is believed radishes were first grown thousands of years ago in China, and eventually migrated to Egypt and Greece. They made their way to England in the mid-16th century, and were cultivated in Massachusetts less than 100 years later. Although now grown throughout the U.S., the largest commercial crops come from California and Florida.

While perusing radishes at the farmers’ market, be sure to also stock up on end-of-season apples, pears, and citrus. And treat someone special to a bouquet of fresh flowers to brighten up a cold wintry day.

Radish Tips and Trivia

1 cup of sliced radishes weighs in at less than 20 calories; with 4 grams of carbohydrate, 2 grams of fiber, and 45 mg sodium. They also contain 29% of our RDA of Vitamin C.
Crisp, bright green leaves are the primary indicator of freshness.
Smaller radishes are generally milder and crunchier. As the weather gets warmer, most radishes become spicier.
Some may like them hot, but everybody wants them crunchy—which means the very best radishes are fresh from the grower. Once purchased, use them within 5 days.
Unless you plan to serve the radishes intact, trim away the leaves, leaving a bit of the green stems attached. Then store the radishes in an open plastic bag in the crisper drawer of the refrigerator.
Radish leaves are edible—and nutritious—so do not discard. Rinse them well to remove any grit, then add to salads or cook as you would Swiss chard or kale.
Radishes are best served raw; but any unpleasantly peppery ones are easily tamed by cooking—either sautéed or roasted with olive oil, salt, and pepper; or braised in a bit of chicken stock and a splash of white wine. Serve warm as a side dish.
Enhance a crisp butter lettuce salad with sliced radishes, chopped fresh chives, and a homemade herb vinaigrette or buttermilk dressing.
Toss sliced radishes into your favorite coleslaw or other cabbage- or cucumber-based salads.
For another invigorating salad, combine sliced radishes with matchstick-size pieces of jicama, bite-size chunks of avocado and orange segments, dressed with a lime-cilantro vinaigrette.
For a taste of the exotic, cut away the skin and pith from several navel oranges. Cut the oranges crosswise into 1/4-inch slices and arrange on a platter. Mix together a tablespoon or so of fresh lemon juice, a few drops each of orange flower water and honey, a pinch each of ground cinnamon, salt, and cayenne; then drizzle over the oranges. Scatter sliced radishes on top and garnish with small fresh mint leaves.
Serve a bowl of sliced radishes at the table to top off posole or other soups and stews.
Tuck radish slices inside soft tacos, or shower them over tostadas.
Spread crostini with soft goat cheese and top with radish slices, a tiny sprig of arugula or watercress, and a few grindings of black pepper. For more genteel occasions, make tiny tea sandwiches filled with paper-thin radish slices, finely shredded mint leaves, and a lemony mayonnaise.
Grate radishes into softened cream cheese; stir in some chopped fresh parsley and season with salt, pepper, and a squirt of lemon juice. Serve as a spread for cocktail rye, pumpernickel bread rounds, or whole radishes.
Whip up a healthy lunch by stirring sliced or coarsely grated radishes into cottage cheese, and season to taste with salt and freshly ground pepper.
Stir grated radishes into guacamole for added crunch and color. Ditto for egg salad.
Pair chopped radishes with cucumber, celery, minced red or green onion, and cilantro for a refreshing homemade salsa.
For an unusual raita, mix chopped radishes with cucumber, yogurt, and a few minced golden raisins; season to taste with ground cumin, salt, and a bit of minced fresh jalapeño. Serve alongside spicy curries; as a condiment with grilled chicken or fish; or as a dip with pita chips.
Make radishes the unexpected star of grain or veggie salads. (Especially when asparagus and sugar snap peas come into season.)
Rozanne Gold, author of Radically Simple, sautés sliced French Breakfast radishes and their coarsely chopped leaves along with bite-size strips of bacon; then tosses everything together with just-cooked pasta, grated Pecorino Romano, lots of coarsely cracked black pepper, and a dash of salt. Brilliant.

Radish Crudité

This classic French appetizer couldn’t be easier on the host—nor is there a better way to showcase your latest radish finds from the farmers’ market. The quality of each ingredient elevates the simple to the sublime.

Whole young French Breakfast radishes (the smaller the better), or red globe radishes, halved lengthwise
Best-quality unsalted butter, such as Kerrygold or European-style Plugra, at cool room temperature
Coarse salt, such as Maldon sea salt, fleur de sel, or kosher salt
Thin slices of sweet baguette

Rinse radishes well with cold water. Leave whole with leaves intact, or trim away some or all of the leaves, maintaining enough of the green stem to serve as a “handle.” For maximum crispness, refrigerate the radishes in a bowl of ice water, covered, until serving time. (This can be done up to 24 hours in advance.)
Drain the radishes well and arrange on a small platter. (You can place them on a bed of crushed ice, if you like.) Accompany with a crock of butter, a small dish of salt, and the bread. Set out an empty bowl for any radish tops that may be discarded.
Have each guest spread a bit of butter on a radish and dip lightly into the salt. Eat as-is, or cradled in a slice of bread.

Variations:

Mix chives or other fresh herbs into the butter before serving.
For added depth of flavor, offer truffle salt (available in many gourmet shops), or mix a bit of finely grated lemon zest into plain coarse salt.
Provide a small dish of toasted cumin seeds as an alternative to salt.

Market Fresh – Starting Fresh

December 31, 2011 by Peggy Fallon Leave a Comment

In the aftermath of holiday excess, it is comforting to sit down to a healthy meal at home…providing it’s something appealing and delicious. The good news here is that the words “healthy” and “delicious” need not cancel out each other.

I would be the last person on the planet to recommend dining on a tablespoon of cottage cheese and a few limp carrot sticks. (I’m all for maintaining high standards, regardless of the circumstances.) So instead of partaking in dreary rabbit food, how about something fresh and colorful, brimming with bright flavors and a variety of textures? How about a dinner where nearly every ingredient can be purchased at a fair price, directly from the grower?

Because we have access to excellent produce throughout the year, Californians are known for their inventive seasonal salads. I realize a cold dinner is about the last thing on anyone’s mind in January—but take a minute to walk through the farmers’ market and think outside the ice box. What if one of our salad’s main ingredients was roasted to cozy perfection in your oven?

There is a whole world beyond that wedge of crisp iceberg drizzled with blue cheese dressing or, far worse, those wilted lettuce leaves and anemic tomato slices drowning in a bottled vinaigrette. Californians know how to make the most of the most humble, any time of the year. With sweet chunks of roasted winter squash, crunchy toasted walnuts, and tart dried cherries, the following salad is hearty enough to stand on its own for dinner—and a worthy side dish for any potluck.

Make this the main event one Meatless Monday this month—accompanied by a warm, crusty loaf of artisan bread and a glass of crisp California Chardonnay to toast in a new year of good eating.

Honey-Glazed Butternut Squash Salad

1/2 cup California walnut halves and pieces
1 (2-pound) firm winter squash, such as butternut, peeled, seeded, and cut into 3/4- to 1-inch cubes (about 5 cups)
2 tablespoons California extra-virgin olive oil
Coarse (kosher) salt
1 1/2 teaspoons chopped fresh thyme or rosemary leaves, or 1/2 teaspoon dried
1/8 teaspoon crushed hot red pepper flakes
2 tablespoons honey
2 tablespoons fresh orange juice
1 1/2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
Freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons California walnut oil or olive oil
6 cups baby arugula leaves (about 7 ounces)
1/2 cup dried cherries, coarsely chopped
Optional: crumbled California goat cheese, blue cheese, or shaved Parmesan

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Place the walnuts in a small pan and bake, stirring once or twice, 8 to 10 minutes or until lightly browned and fragrant. Set aside to cool; then chop coarsely. Increase the oven temperature to 425 degrees.
To facilitate clean-up, line a large baking sheet with foil or parchment. Combine the squash, olive oil, about 2 teaspoons of coarse salt, the thyme, and crushed red pepper on top; toss to mix. Spread into an even layer and bake for 20 minutes. Remove from the oven and drizzle with honey; stir carefully with a spatula, and once again spread into an even layer. Return to the oven and bake until the edges are nicely browned and the squash is tender when pierced with the tip of a sharp knife, 5 to 10 minutes longer. (If desired, squash can be baked up to 2 hours in advance. Just cover loosely with foil and let stand at room temperature.)
To make the dressing: In a large shallow serving bowl, whisk together the orange juice and the lemon juice. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Whisk in the walnut oil. Add the arugula, walnuts, and dried cherries and toss gently to coat. Taste, adding more salt and pepper if needed. Use a spatula to scrape the warm (or room temperature) squash and any cooking juices over the salad. Top with cheese, if desired. Serve at once.

Serves 4 to 6.
The Danville Certified Farmers’ Market, located at Railroad and 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.com.