Monday, July 13, 2020

Covid Cafe: Tomorrow's Meatballs and Raw Beet Salad

Cherry tomatoes

Good day to you, chefs. Ground lamb (grown on grass down the road) is a favorite of ours. I was going to make the meatballs in the video below this morning, but forgot to defrost the lamb overnight. So...tomorrow!


Spicy Broiled Lamb Meatballs

by MyBodyMyKitchen 

(click here for more)

Last week’s CSA box included a just-pulled bundle of beets. We'll bake the greens with salt and olive oil for chips tonight, but I needed a fresh idea for the beets themselves.  I stumbled on this Mark Bittman recipe for Raw Beet Salad, which is yet another plan for later today/tomorrow. We’ll report back.

I got as far as washing them


1/2 pounds beets, preferably small
2 large shallots
1/2 pound fennel
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard, or to taste (optional)
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1 sprig fresh tarragon, minced (optional)
1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley leaves


1. Peel the beets and the shallot. Combine them in a food processor fitted with the metal blade and pulse care- fully until the beets are shredded; do not purée. (Or grate the beets by hand and mince the shallots; combine.) Scrape into a bowl.
2. Shave the fennel very thinly, and add it to the bowl with the beets. Sprinkle with salt and pepper, then add the mustard (if you’re using it), oil, and lemon juice and toss. Taste and adjust the seasoning. Toss in the herbs and serve.

Speaking of beets, Chris and Lisa pulled one of their Badger Flame Beets from Row 7, sliced it thin, and ate its delicious sweetness raw. (Sadly, the bunnies enjoyed mine at the fetal stage.)

 Here's the full-grown Badger Flame Beet
Badger Flame Beet #2



after Marie Howe

              in the wordless beginning
iguana & myrrh
magma & reef          ghost moth
& the cordyceps tickling its nerves
& cedar & archipelago & anemone
dodo bird & cardinal waiting for its red
ocean salt & crude oil         now black
muck now most naïve fumbling plankton
every egg clutched in the copycat soft
of me unwomaned unraced
unsexed          as the ecstatic prokaryote
that would rage my uncle’s blood
or the bacterium that will widow
your eldest daughter’s eldest son
my uncle, her son           our mammoth sun
& her uncountable siblings         & dust mite & peat
apatosaurus & nile river
& maple green & nude & chill-blushed &
yeasty keratined bug-gutted i & you
spleen & femur seven-year refreshed
seven-year shedding & taking & being this dust
& my children & your children
& their children & the children
of the black bears & gladiolus & pink florida grapefruit
here not allied but the same        perpetual breath
held fast to each other as each other’s own skin
cold-dormant & rotting & birthing & being born
in the olympus           of the smallest
possible once before once



Meantime, here's Plas Johnson's

The Blues

(music to cook by)  


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