Small Towns & Greasy Spoons

I went home again this weekend.

This time the trip was planned well in advance, as it has been a year since my father passed away and we held a small family gathering to honor him and spread his ashes.  I haven't mentioned this part of my life here on Omnivora, because maybe it's too personal and, well, not entirely food-related.

However, I have written about how my mother has shaped my relationship with food in positive ways, and I also have my dad to thank.  He loved food and would try anything.  He appreciated a hard day's work (his hobbies included hunting and ranching), but also the meal to follow it with equal gusto.  He was very much the uncomplaining type and would be happy with a smothered hamburger or a beautiful salad (as long as there was enough of it).

Today, my brother told us about the Canada fishing trips he and my dad took.  They would fish for walleye until they would limit out and then catch a few pike for fun.  And dinner.  One of the regular meals they had with their guides was cornmeal-breaded walleye pan-fried in whale fat and served as a sandwich on white bread with mayonnaise and salt-and-vinegar potato chips.  I cannot tell you how much I want to try that.  Really.  Plus, have you ever had walleye?  Super good.

Oh, and we also did a 10k.  Here.

After spending most of the day in the sun, hiking around the land I grew up on, building physical and emotional memorials for my father with my family, we were all rather hungry.  We went to the only place in town, which happens to have been around my entire life, The Beulah Inn.

It's a small town greasy spoon, complete with dark bar in the back and the occasional "pie lady."  (This time, she was a cake lady.  Ask me if you don't know what I'm talking about...might be a country thing.)  I hadn't been in years, but the visit made me nostalgic and I immediately thought of childhood things like the bi-weekly gymkhana, dancing to the original Cotton-Eye Joe and yelling "bullshit!" when I was too young to be allowed to in real life, and learning how to properly milk a goat.  All things, of course, that are fond memories of my father.

The food is nostalgic, too, and perhaps not just for me.  The fare is standard and traditional, with Colorado touches, like the aforementioned smothered burger and house-made green chile.  The menu has barely changed in decades, which means they still have hand-cut french fries that are worth the drive from town.  But, they have adapted as well, including vegetarian and gluten-free options.  In other words, I am going to add The Beulah Inn to the My-Hometown-Is-Awesome Tour.  Which is already complete with a castle and Moon Rock.  Really.


**I didn't think to take food pictures while we were eating, because I intended to write about something completely different.  But that is best saved for next time.  Once again, for balance and full spectrum.

Get Out of Town!

This past weekend I hightailed it out of the city for some peace and quiet.  And good food.

After my very city weekend last week, I felt the need for balance by having a follow-up rural weekend. Right after work on Saturday, I packed up and went south to my family home to spend time with my mom and to get away from it all.  No sirens, no street lights, no night clubs, no pollution, no arguments with the landlord, no cell phone reception... no gang fights down the block.  Just the mountains, fresh air, rain, and wholesome food.

I've credited my mother for my appreciation of cooking and food in previous posts.  What I may not have mentioned is that she is practically a self-taught nutritionist. I have learned from her more than I even realize about what we eat. When a friend exclaims to me how great it is that bananas are full of potassium or that flax seeds should be ground or soaked for better absorption in the body, I'm surprised that not everyone already knows these things.  In other words, I am very lucky for my food education I received from my mother.  Once again.

So what did we make for dinner?  Seasonal quiche, of course.  Gluten-free, with any and all fresh garden produce we felt like throwing in.  It's lighter than the traditional kind and wide open to adaptation, so it's one of those dishes that is self-contained like a casserole, but not boring.

This time, we used beautiful forbidden rice and white cheddar for the base/crust.  The turnips were from my garden, sweetened and balanced with carrots.  Swiss chard from someone else's local garden topped out our veg. We garnished with a perfect avocado and a slice from the first Japanese Black Trifele heirloom tomato to ripen on the vine.  We ate on the porch overlooking the mountains, enjoying the petrichor after a day of showers.  We did well for ourselves and we ate our vegetables.  And protein.


HIGH COUNTRY QUICHE

• 2 cups cooked rice or quinoa (your choice of variety)
• 4 oz. shredded cheese (cheddar or Monterey Jack are great)
• 1 T. olive oil
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1/2 onion, chopped
• 1-2 cups root vegetables, chopped, like turnips
• 3 cups greens, trimmed and chopped
• 3 eggs
• 1 cup milk
• salt and pepper
• avocado, optional

Press rice or quinoa into the bottom of a quiche dish or deep pie plate (grease it first!).  Sprinkle cheese over it evenly and set aside.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.  Put olive oil and minced garlic in a cold sauté pan and set to medium heat.  When the garlic barely starts to sizzle, add onions and stir a few times.  Add root vegetables and allow to cook for several minutes.  Add salt to season and to draw out some of the moisture.  Do not stir too frequently, in order to get some browning on the vegetables.  When the roots are almost cooked, toss in the greens and cook everything down until you start to see a little caramelization and sticking. This means that enough moisture has cooked out of the vegetables and your quiche won't be waterlogged.

Meanwhile, whisk together eggs and milk.  Add a pinch of salt and few grinds of pepper for good measure.  When the vegetables are cooked, scoop them into the prepared quiche dish and pour over the egg mixture.  Bake for about 45 minutes, until center is set.

Serve with slices of avocado.  And heirloom tomato slices, if you have them.  Next time, switch up your veg, swap out the cheese, and try a different grain.  I love options and renewal...which is the whole theme of a weekend away.

First, Salad

The garden has shown a rather remarkable renewal in the past week.

While I have been convalescing inside, the lettuce has been growing, the red mustard is showing its color, and a meadow of dill as popped up.

Everything is loving the arrival of warm weather, so much that it's time to start thinning the rows and debating what is a weed and what is not.  I began picking out the extra plants and gathered a rather large handful that came together like a bouquet.  Above is a mix of heirloom lettuces, green and red mustard, arugula, watercress, bok choy, and dill.  There's a French Breakfast Radish in there, too, but it's striking color is hidden underneath the rest of the bundle.

I didn't take the radish out to take pictures, because, as you can see, I had to work quickly!  Everyone loves a good, green salad.  Even bonafide carnivores.

With my appetite coming back, nourishment is on my mind.  My go-to salad combination is a quick homemade vinaigrette, dried fruit, and nuts.  Cheese would be awesome, but I only wanted blue cheese or chèvre - of which I'm out.

So now I get to eat peacefully on my back patio, enjoying the weather, eating food I grew, reading a novel. Maybe I won't take off to North Carolina after all.


GARDEN SALAD

• large bowl of mixed greens, including herbs, washed and rinsed
• a radish or two, sliced thinly
• dried fruit of choice (here I used apricots)
• nuts of your choice (walnuts today)
• olive oil
• fresh lemon juice or vinegar of choice
• dijon or other prepared mustard (not the bright yellow American kind)
• salt and pepper to taste

Add radishes, fruit, and nuts to bowl of greens.

For the dressing, pour a few tablespoons lemon juice or vinegar into a small mason jar.  Add an equal amount of olive oil - since it separates, you don't need to measure, just eyeball it.  Add a spoonful of mustard, cap, and shake.  Season to taste with salt and pepper.  Basically, it's easier than shaking the hell out of a new bottle of store-bought and still getting grease everywhere, so you may as well make it yourself.

Pour dressing on the salad and toss.  Eat outside.