Pleasant House

Our food-production practices are not as “out of sight out of mind” as they used to be. We’ve gone from knowing exactly where our food came from to having no real idea where our food comes from. But that is beginning to change. In our age of information everything seems to be more transparent. Many of us now have a less-than-savory view, maybe because of books like Fast Food Nation and Omnivore’s Dilemma, and our newfound relationships with real farmers, about the way livestock are raised, fed, and harvested. But even with that knowledge, I’m sure that most of us–at least, most of the people reading this–are carnivores and food people who enjoy the flavor of beef.

America is a land of choices, and the everyday decisions we make about food are not difficult; they are convenient, affordable, and tasty. But there are some people who believe that the most convenient choice is not always the best for them when it comes to beef. Lately, we’ve been presented with options that are touted as more ethical, sustainable, and healthy. Grass-fed, grass-finished beef, for instance, is a popular type of beef in the spotlight. But why? Is this because it tastes better, is healthier, better for the environment, more humane, or all of the above? Do you know what all the choices are and what they mean? How do consumers, producers, chefs, and activists decide what kind of beef to raise, buy, eat, and serve?

American grass-fed beef for stew

What do conscientious and savvy diners want to know when they are in the mood for a good burger, a juicy steak, or a tender pot roast and want to make the “right” choice? What if you found yourself in a restaurant like Thomas Keller’s Ad Hoc in Napa Valley, looked at the menu, and saw “Kansas City strip steak”; would you second guess where that beef originated, how it was raised, and how it was fed? Would you assume that Keller put the same care into sourcing that KC strip as he did any other ingredients on his menu? I spoke with a few people on the “business-end” of the serving and selling of beef to find out what kind of thought they put into purchasing, raising, and serving their product. After speaking with chefs, entrepreneurs, and farmers, and gathering information from the Beef Council, I was able to begin to understand the multitude of other choices that confront a small niche, about 10 percent, of the beef industry.

Last week I had a simple hamburger at my neighborhood restaurant, Nightwood. Chef de Cuisine Jason Vincent’s beef is raised and processed by Slagel Family Farm in Fairbury, Ill. This is a destination-worthy burger–perfect just the way it is, dressed with a bit of spicy mustard sauce, creamy cheese, and lettuce, and served on an artisan roll. It is described on the menu simply as a “wood-grilled cheeseburger.” There is no mention of where this burger was sourced. Behind the scenes, the restaurant has made a conscientious decision to serve a certain kind of beef. If you visit Slagel’s website you will find its story, which I can only assume jibes with its customers’ needs:

“Our livestock are raised all naturally in an outdoor environment. They are fed grain and hay raised on our own farm. In addition, no implants or hormones are used. Genetic emphasis for high-marbling cattle and hogs has resulted in Slagel Family Farm producing beef and pork that yields tender, juicy cuts of meat. Consistent genetics are also very important to us so you as a customer will be satisfied time and again.

“In addition to raising our livestock without added hormones, steroids, or constant levels of antibiotics, we also control the processing. Our livestock are processed at Slagel Family Meats, our own facility in Forrest, Ill. We do not use preservatives or artificial additives during processing. This means our products are 100% pure, unlike products from large commercial companies that have 5-10% saltwater solution injected into them.”

Nightwood burger

I recently came across the blog Discover the World of Artisan Beef, which offers a unique perspective on the subject of beef choices. Carrie Oliver, an entrepreneur who founded the Artisan Beef Institute and operates an online source for beef called Oliver Ranch, markets grass-fed, grass-finished beef as well as other kinds of beef that fit her strict criteria. She believes that beef should be tasted and appreciated for its flavor in much the same way we taste and appreciate wine. Oliver likens today’s conventional beef industry to the wine industry of the ’70s and ’80s, when the choice was as simple as red and white. Today, there are so many wines, differentiated by varietal, region, and style instead of by a generic red or white label. Oliver says,

“The beef that you serve can be as interesting–and rewarding–as the finest wines at your table. It begins with knowing and learning more about what’s on your plate and discovering that, like a fine wine, a lot goes into raising better cattle. From the selection of the breed to the grasslands and the feed, today’s artisanal ranchers are producing the finest offerings ever.”

To celebrate and learn about the different types of beef and their various nuances, Oliver conducts beef and burger tastings throughout North America where participants blindly taste a selection of artisan beef that she has sourced after learning about and meeting directly with ranchers. As long as we are in the business of eating beef, there are people like Oliver who are in the business of selling it. Still, the most responsible options out there could use a lot more marketing; even if they seem to be the best choice, they don’t sell themselves.

image: cedar valley sustainable farm on flickr

Jody Osmund, a beef farmer from Cedar Valley Sustainable Farm, in Ottawa, Ill., sells his beef at several farmers’ markets around Chicago and is confident that he produces consistently flavorful beef. He raises his cattle on open pasture where, like most cattle, they forage on naturally growing grasses and legumes. They are over-wintered at his farm on a high-quality mixture of corn and grain, which he may grow himself or buy from his neighbors. The animals are slowly introduced to this feed, which satisfies their caloric demands and allows them to continue to gain well-marbled weight throughout the cold winter months. A lot of people I know, myself included, go through this same dietary cycle during a long Chicago winter. Because he finishes his own cattle, they do not undergo the stress of having to be transported to a feedlot, to be mixed in with thousands of other cattle from around the country. In fact, many ranchers who raise calves to be sent to conventional feedlots worry about what happens to their animals once they get there. Oliver references one rancher who said, “One of the first things I learned: the moment that cattle gets on a truck, all my hard work can be for naught.”

The reality of industrial beef production in our country means that many cattle ranchers who have raised their calves naturally on lush pasture send them off to spend the last six months of their lives eating the cheapest corn, grain, and byproduct diets on confined-animal feeding operations–aka CAFOs, aka factory farms–with 20,000-30,000 other cattle from pastures across the country. While on these feedlots, they are fitted with hormonal growth implants and pumped up with antibiotics. The CAFO itself creates massive amounts of methane, carbon dioxide, and nitrous-oxide gases that are released into the atmosphere, as Nicolette Hahn Niman, a lawyer and livestock rancher, explained in a recent New York Times opinion piece entitled “The Carnivore’s Dilemma.”

Ultimately, the cattle leave the feedlots in factory-processed boxed packages, in forms that are familiar to us. This reminds me of the hunter who shoots a deer, drops it off at the local processor, and gets back a set amount of processed venison that may or not come from his particular animal because, during the height of the season, multiple animals are processed together.

I would like to be able to put my money where my mouth is and say that the best choice for me is the most flavorful beef from the farmer who took care of my product from pasture to harvest. This philosophy looks great on paper, may seem elitist to others, and is not always easy for the consumer to adhere to. Raising beef in an arguably more “right” way is specialized, and that typically translates to more expensive. This method costs farmers more–to give them quality feed, to butcher them in smaller abattoirs, to deliver the product–and in turn, it costs the consumer more money to buy it. It could be argued, though, that some of the best investments in life haven’t been cheap or easy to implement, that the benefits have not trickled down to us or society.

Ours is a “bigger is better” country, but when it comes to certain things, production on an artisan level results in higher quality. Listed below are the sources of beef I have quoted above. There are many more around Chicago and beyond. If you want to know where your restaurant’s or your market’s beef comes from and how it was raised, ask someone who works there. In addition, I have included below a list of beef types as defined by the Cattleman’s Beef Board and National Cattlemen’s Beef Association (my own comments are italicized). Keep in mind, these are generalized industry definitions and each producer has its own way of doing things. For example, the grain-fed category references feedlots. Not all cattle are grain fed on feedlots. Sources like Oliver Ranch, farmers like Slagel and Cedar Valley, and restaurants like Nightwood market, sell, raise, and prepare beef that has never been subjected to factory farms.

BEEF CHOICES

Beef producers offer many varieties of beef to meet the changing lifestyles and nutritional needs of consumers. Producers have adapted their businesses to provide consumers with grain-fed, grass-finished, certified organic, and natural/branded beef products. While each kind of beef offers something different to the consumer, all kinds of beef share the common denominators that continue to spark demand: taste, nutrition, and safety.

Grain-fed Beef
Grain-fed beef is the most widely produced kind of beef and tends to be less expensive than other types of beef. Grain-fed cattle spend most of their lives eating grass in pasture before moving to a feedlot where they are fed a high-energy, grain diet for four to six months. Research shows consumers generally prefer the taste of grain-fed beef because of its tenderness and flavor-enhancing marbling.

Grain feeding is not limited to CAFOs. While the majority of beef sold in this country is grain fed and from CAFOs, grain feeding can be done industrially, with low-quality feed, or organically and humanely, on the farm, with high-quality feed. You will find this beef in the lowest tiers of restaurants and markets, like McDonald’s and Aldi, and in the highest tiers, like Ad Hoc and Whole Foods. A Big Mac is made with grain-fed beef, and so is the finest Kobe. While “grain-fed tends to be less expensive” on the conventional market, it is also the most expensive in the specialty market.

Grass-finished Beef
All cattle spend the majority of their lives eating grass in pastures. However, grass-finished beef (sometimes marketed as grass-fed beef) comes from cattle that have been raised on pasture their entire lives. Producing grass-finished beef in large volumes is difficult in North America, where few regions have the growing season to make it possible. Grass-finished beef is often described as having a distinctly different taste and may require different preparation methods.

Farmers and researchers are working hard to make grass-finished beef reach its full potential by experimenting with different breeds of cattle on the best grasslands. Farmers of grass-fed beef and those who support this type of husbandry see so many benefits from this practice, including great flavor and health benefits, a positive effect on the environment, and revitalized local economies. Grass-finished beef is available at farmers’ markets as well as through online sources like Oliver Ranch and Tallgrass Beef. Some restaurants in Chicago are known for serving grass-finished beef–notably Rick Bayless’s Topolobompo, Frontera Grill, and Xoco, and Sarah Stegner’s and George Bumbaris’s Prairie Grass Cafe, which sources from Tallgrass. A Chicago hamburger restaurant called DMK Burger Bar, by Michael Kornick, will serve only grass-finished beef for its hamburgers. There is a mobile (seasonal) hamburger vendor in New York City by the name of LCB Burger Truck, named after La Cense grass-fed Angus beef from Montana. You can catch LCB’s daily location via its Twitter site, @lcbburger truck.

Certified Organic Beef
Certified organic beef must meet the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s National Organic Program standards set by the Organic Foods Production Act. The cattle cannot be given hormones to promote growth or antibiotics. They cannot be denied antibiotics if they are sick, but treated cattle must be removed from the program. Organic beef tends to be more expensive than grain-fed beef.

Any market or restaurant that is certified organic must sell organic beef. You will find organic beef at specialty markets and high-end restaurants, and you can order it online.  

Even though customers may have high expectations of how organic livestock is raised and processed, certified organic means exactly what its definition is: beef that has been fed 100% certified organic feed. Recent allegations of animal cruelty in a certified organic veal-processing plant have, unfortunately, shown that this label does not guarantee that the animal has been handled gently.

Natural/Branded Beef
By definition, most beef is natural. According to the USDA’s Food Safety and Inspection Service, “natural” may be used on a beef label if the beef does not contain artificial flavor/flavoring, coloring, chemical preservatives, or any other artificial or synthetic ingredient, and the beef is not more than minimally processed. The government’s definition of natural does not relate to the way animals are raised or what they are fed. Producers raising cattle for beef marketed with a “natural” label may follow different production practices in order to brand their beef. Common branded beef claims include “raised without hormones,” “raised without antibiotics,” “corn-fed,” “always vegetarian fed,” or “free range.” Natural/branded beef tends to be more expensive than grain-fed beef.

All-natural beef is found at specialty markets and restaurants. While all-natural is typically more expensive, it is becoming increasingly popular with some fast-food operations like Chicago’s Epic Burger and mid- and upscale restaurants.  Creekstone Farms is a large producer of all-natural beef.

CONSCIENTIOUS BEEF SOURCES

Nightwood

2119 South Halsted Street

Chicago, IL 60608-4551

(312) 526-3385

www.nightwoodrestaurant.com

Slagel Family Farm
23601 East 600 North Road
Fairbury, IL 61739
(815) 848-9385
slagelmeats@live.com

The Oliver Ranch Company and The Artisan Beef Institute
Carrie C. Oliver
Founder and Chief Executive Officer

(416) 807-5981

carrie.oliver@oliverranch.com
www.oliverranch.com
http://discoverbeef.blogspot.com
Twitter: @OliverRanch

Cedar Valley Sustainable Farm

Jody and Beth Osmund

1985 North 3609th Road

Ottawa, IL 61350

(815) 431-9544

cdrvalleyfarm@gmail.com

www.cedarvalleysustainable.com

Tallgrass Beef Company

Prairie Grass Cafe

601 Skokie Blvd # N6t

Northbrook, IL 60062-2813
(847) 205-4433

Frontera Grill

445 North Clark Street

Chicago, IL 60654-4682

(312) 661-0381

DMK Burger Bar

2954 North Sheffield Avenue

Chicago, IL 60657

(773) 360-8686

Epic Burger

517 South State Street
Chicago, IL 60605-1616
(312) 913-1373

the coolest trophies: skulls

Chelsea and I watched as the Chicago Marathon barreled through Pilsen a few weeks ago. As one runner made his way along 18th Street, he yelled, “Man, that smells good!” He was most likely referring to the rich aroma of an invisible pork carnitas cloud that hovers over our neighborhood. A friend of mine who ran the marathon later told me how voraciously hungry he was while running through all the different neighborhoods, smelling the variety of foods coming from the homes and restaurants along the route.

On Saturday, Pilsen’s third annual Carrera de los Muertos filled the air with the allure of delicious, fresh Mexican food at the finish line. I used to be an avid distance runner, and all I remember eating after the races was maybe a free energy bar. Not the case at the Carrera de los Muertos. While waiting for Chelsea to finish the race–which I’m proud to say she did in 25 minutes, placing ninth in her division–I knew something was a brewin’, quite literally, in the parking lot near the stage of the race day festivities.

tacos

tamales

atole

Wafts of chile-laden smoke led to authentic tiny tacos, like those found in Mexico, accompanied by fiery red and green salsas, fresh chopped cilantro, onion, and lime wedges. Boxes upon boxes upon boxes of free tamales were opened, their ghost-like whisps of steam beckoning the cold, exhausted runners to nosh on the warm, pillowy fingers of spongy corn and pork treats found within. Chelsea asked a friend who was photographing the revelers in traditional holiday garb if he wanted a tamale, to which he politely declined; he had already eaten three. Soothing cups of thick and starchy atole warmed cupped hands and bellies like chocolatey liquefied Malto Meal. It is safe to say that the Carrera de los Muertos nourished the souls of the living while paying homage to the souls of the deceased.

soon-to-be-tired and hungry living souls

Pheasant is an abundant game bird that is found wild throughout the Midwest and also farmed. Midwestern pheasant meat is light in color with streaks of yellow fat. Its flavor is mild and its texture is prone to cooking up dry, if not cooked with great care.

This first photo is from the field. My family’s neighbor Bill shot these birds.

from field

Here, the feathers are removed by simply pulling them out. This is a tedious and messy job, best done outdoors but well worth the effort. Many hunters will remove the feathers and the skin simultaneously because it is an easy way of removing the feathers. The only problem with this is the skin is a golden layer of protection that helps the meat from drying out during cooking.

removing the feathers

roadkill pheasant with the feathers and skin removed

After removing the feathers, the bird needs to be eviscerated, or gutted. This is the trickiest part of the cleaning. Great care needs to be used when removing the viscera from the vent so that the knife does not penetrate the organs. There are a number of videos online that will guide you through this process.

de-feathered and eviscerated

Part butchery and part scientific dissection, cutting open the stomach of the pheasant reveals the bird’s local diet of corn and grain.

cross-section of stomach

I like to cook the cleaned pheasant by seasoning it and searing it whole in a pan, and then roasting it until nearly done in the oven. I allow the bird to rest until it reaches room temperature, and then remove the quarters and separate the leg and thigh. This method allows you to better control the final cooking of the pheasant and makes it easy to inspect the meat for buckshot, which is often found in the meat. Some very traditional French restaurants have been known to offer a glass of champagne to a diner who finds a “lucky” buckshot in his pheasant. The roasted neck is reserved, along with the rest of the carcass, for stock.

roasted pheasant quarters

buckshot

The pheasant pieces also can be cooked to temperature in a pan with butter and fresh herbs. Or, you can incorporate the meat into any other recipe that calls for pheasant.

finishing the pheasant

A whole-roasted and carved pheasant with natural pan juices: the breast is sliced, the drumsticks are whole, and the thigh meat has been deboned.

whole-roasted and carved pheasant

From field to fork, this is a plated roast pheasant with lingonberries and sage. (This is the roadkill pheasant that had the skin removed.) Here, sage leaves were placed underneath bacon that was wrapped around the bird to help it from drying out. The bacon was removed after roasting.

to fork

Canadian-American turkey

Chelsea and I were invited to our first Canadian Thanksgiving dinner this past Saturday. Today is actually Thanksgiving Day proper in Canada, but it is not unusual to have the celebration during the preceding weekend. My childhood friend Mary and her husband, Eric, who is from Canada, hosted the party at their Chicago loft.

American Thanksgiving is riddled with tales about the Pilgrims and the Indians and romantic, frolicking feasts between them. Canada’s Thanksgiving, I learned, is more about giving thanks for a good harvest and for just…giving thanks. Since Thanksgiving is all about giving thanks, I’d like to thank Mary and Eric for the delicious feast. And I’d like to tell Mary how thankful I am that Chelsea and I are a part of you and your husband’s lives. I’m thankful for the delicious turkey that you roasted and the tasty mead and dry-hopped ale that you brewed. But most of all I’m thankful for new and rekindled friendships and the stories that we all shared after dinner about growing up in a small town together. My friend Beaker, with whom I have also reconnected recently, from the same town, was there with his wife, Eileen, and I’m thankful that all of our  spouses endured the hours of stories we shared about our childhood days that seemed to involve a lot of physical injuries and bad haircuts.

I’m thankful that this is our 100th post.

GreenMarket sustainable food production facility

Photo credits: Bright Farm Systems: Linked by Michael Levenston of City Farmer News

I often think about the possibility of a year-round marketplace in Chicago. The markets of Europe are beyond compare, Kansas City’s City Market blew me away this summer, and I’d love to check out the other American markets listed in a recent Local Beet piece. But the more I consider Chicago’s lack of such a place, the more aware I am of the factors that make Chicago different and that perhaps explain why we don’t have one–yet.

San Francisco, to me, is a gastronomic mecca, and it opened its own year-round marketplace only in 2003, in the Ferry Plaza Building. For a city that many people laud for its amazing food culture, San Francisco seemed to take a long time in opening a market that concentrates so many great things in one location. Many of the amazing offerings in the Ferry Building are unique in and of themselves, and the marketplace, open daily, is an essential destination when visiting San Francisco.

Ferry Building, San Francisco

Ferry Building, San Francisco

Ferry Building Market, San Francisco

Photos credit: Ferry Building Market Place

In Europe, it’s easy to understand why these markets continue to exist; they are still a centuries-old part of the cultural fabric, and in many cities you’d be hard pressed to find a supermarket in the center of town.

I was impressed by Kansas City’s City Market, a combination farmers market, ethnic market, and eating place. I’d like to check it out during the winter to see how much of the energy that was evident during the height of the growing season remains.

Les Halles, Avignon

Kansas City's City Market

When looking at these examples, I wonder what these places have that Chicago doesn’t and/or what Chicago has that these places don’t? Could these factors be the reason why there isn’t a marketplace in Chicago? I’m not discounting the Metra Market before it opens; it could turn out to be on par with any of these other examples. But until then, I still ponder.

Chicago is unique compared to other cities because of its sheer size and diversity. It’s also all about the neighborhoods, each with its own special ethnicity and foods. The whole world is a train, bus, bike, cab, car, or boat ride away. We’ve got Chicago-style barbecue on the South Side, tikka on Devon, pierogies on the Northwest Side, banh mi on Argyle, sea cucumbers in Chinatown, and birria on 26th. And in each of these areas we’ve got impeccably fresh produce and spices to make all of these dishes in our homes.

Like Chicago, New York City is another huge, diverse metropolis without a central market. I wonder if places like Chicago and New York are unique cases where the city itself is the year-round market? Sure, the entire city is not underneath one roof, but compared to other cities with year-round markets, perhaps this isn’t necessary. Our wealth of markets, restaurants, and eating places are easily accessible and can provide days or even weeks of exploration.

Don’t get me wrong, I long to see the day that Chicago has its own year-round market; I look forward to the opening of the Metra Market to see if it’s in the spirit of what I consider to be a great year-round market. But I hope that the same reasons why we do not have a market, as other cities do, are those things that prompt us to create a year-round marketplace that is different than all of the rest. Sure, Chicago’s would have all of the great things that other markets have–a place for area farmers and food artisans to sell their goods. It should also be a market that stands out on its own, that reflects our own traditions and regional innovations.

green roof of Chicago's City Hall

Specifically, John Buck’s idea to turn the old post office into a breeding ground for startup companies is a great idea. Carl Giometti also writes in “Making the Old Post Office Deliver for Chicago” that “recessions are great periods of entrepreneurial experimentation.” Well, we’ve got a recession on our hands and what I believe to be a very viable entrepreneurial urban experiment–one that will be not only profitable but socially, politically, and environmentally significant.

I hope you are reading, Mr. Davies, the building is yours now and you need some tenants. My idea for a central market there would be of special interest if some of its startups were sustainable artisanal-food producers. And if the old post office doesn’t work out, I’m sure there are other options, like empty warehouses or power plants.

Imagine a market where goods are not only sold but also grown and crafted on site. Hydroponic vegetables and herbs could be farmed on several of the old post office’s 60 acres, the equivalent of 24 city blocks. Next to a vegetable farm could be an aquaculture operation and next to that, a cheese maker next to a brewery. Get the idea? Take it a step further and create a closed-loop system where nutrient-rich byproducts of these processes are used to feed each other’s operations. Vermicomposted waste could be sold to local farms or put back into the system. Check out this piece by Treehugger.

vertical farm: award-winning rendering by Romses Architects: Image via Designboom

old Chicago post office

I know, big dreams. But we live in a city full of big, vacant real estate and even bigger ideas that have become reality. The same innovative spirit that built this country is alive and well, and I believe our advancements in green technology will be our new boom. It may be slow going and we’ve got some competition from China. Nonetheless, a year-round marketplace could offer a new platform for innovative collaboration, one where many of Chicago’s industries–architecture, business, mechanical, design, agriculture, science, computer technology, and the arts, among others–could build a phenomenal model for the future.

This requires forward thinkers in any of these industries to take the financial risk to innovate. Government support would send the message that with a modern year-round market, Chicago is leading the way as the country’s “greenest city.” Groups like Growing Power, City Farm, and the Green City Market have shown how productive city farms can be in Chicago, and a year-round markeplace would be a collective step forward. I would be interested to hear what Growing Power would think about a project like this. What that group is doing now could be expanded exponentially with great results, if given the necessary funding. Check out this recent article from News Tracker by  J. A. Ginsburg that details how Growing Power’s CEO and MacArthur Foundation Fellow Will Allen “aims to fix the world” through his mission.

City Farm, Chicago

Photo credits: The Resource Center

Back in February, Mike Sula of the Chicago Reader, freshly inspired by a visit to Cleveland’s West Side Market, spoke with Larry Lund, a real-estate expert educated in the public market, about some possible reasons why Chicago does not have a year-round public market. Lund listed several obstacles, which include tough competition, few qualified vendors, and expensive land.

I believe that all three of these perceived obstacles are easy to overcome. My modern interpretation of a marketplace is novel and opens up a brand new market where there is, technically, no competition. People will continue to shop for staples at conventional grocery stores. The marketplace will be a new class of “supermarketplace” that stands alone. As far as competition within the marketplace, vendors will all be on a level playing field with each other. The marketplace will also draw tourists–not typically a strong demographic for conventional supermarkets.

Lund may be right in his assessment of vendor viability because vendors have not elected to take on such a large venture themselves. But they can grow and adapt, especially with training. Chicago has a bevvy of commercial world-class butchers and fishmongers who would now have the opportunity to market themselves more effectively to the public. Grocery stores are currently customers of wholesale fish and meat purveyors; the marketplace would connect the purveyor and the customer directly. The market location would also serve as a new downtown hub for some of these companies, located near O’Hare, cutting down on their transportation costs to and from the city.

Lund’s third obstacle was the high cost of land. The old post office sold for $40 million, or $16 per square foot. All commercial real estate indicators are tanking at this point, and many large buildings are sitting vacant. The time seems right to take advantage of this downturn.

By no means do I consider myself an expert on urban planning, markets, real estate, or politics, but I consider my idea for a new kind of year-round market to be my “concept car.” The renderings look pretty on paper, and if engineered properly, it should ride really nicely and every city will want one parked in their garage. This is an opportunity to do something that hasn’t been done before. Until other people agree it is worth doing, I will continue to dream.

Heritage Prairie Market Farm produce

Chelsea and I are big fans of eating local. Foraging, shopping at farmers’ markets, and road-side farm stands make it easy to cook local during our growing season here in the Midwest. There will be plenty of time for take-out and canned and frozen ingredients in the near future. Cooking and eating local is just as much fun for us as squeezing as many days as possible out of that pool pass or bike rides along the lake are to others.

The past couple of weekends we’ve had to cook some special meals at home for some special guests, and both times I cooked a variation of the same meal. These meals were not overly fussy or fancy, complicated or expensive, canned or frozen. By definition, locavore refers to someone who eats foods that have been procured from within a couple-hundred-mile radius. The majority of our ingredients fell within these guidelines, but a few of the staples did not; I’ll list those for all of the sticklers. Sea salt, olive oil, and piment d Espillete are not naturally found in the Midwest but are essential ingredients in my pantry. They are examples of traditional and sustainable American and European agricultural products that are easy to transport and store. Not to mention just a small amount of these things can enhance our Midwestern ingredients.

farm stand

Here’s how a multi-course locavore menu could look:

Appetizer

1. Start with some appetizers or nibblers. I like to put out local cheeses with homemade chile jam, fresh fruit, berries, and crostini;

chile jam

Salad

2. A salad featuring greens of the moment–lately, I’ve been using red mustard greens–some raw fresh vegetables (I’ve been shaving pumpkin), grilled or roasted wild mushrooms like hen of the woods, local cheese, homemade pickled cherries, and a pleasant vinaigrette or dressing.

mustard greens and raw pumpkin salad

Pasta

3. One of my favorite things about eating in Italy is the pasta course, so I often incorporate one into my tasting menus at home. Gnocchi is an easy way to accomplish this goal through the use of local starchy potatoes, a couple of eggs, and flour. I like to sauté the boiled gnocchi for a nice textural contrast, and then toss them with pesto made with herbs from my garden.

gnocchi with peas and stinging nettles

Main

4. The main course protein of the moment has been Lake Superior whitefish seasoned with sea salt, piment d Espillette, and fresh herbs from the garden, and roasted in a foil or paper packet on the grill. Lake Superior is probably outside of the 250 mile marker, but Midwestern nonetheless. One week our fish arrived at the table with grill-roasted sweet corn tossed with rings of hot peppers and a selection of whole roasted fingerling potatoes. Another week it came with a selection of mixed roasted carrots and burdock root with a green tomato relish. Not a fish eater? Substitute with Midwestern beef or free-range chicken. Or keep it vegetarian by wrapping any or all of these accompaniments into pastry for a savory pie.

roasted whitefish

Dessert

5.  Everyone loves dessert, and its seductive powers make it easy to overlook any rules that you are supposed to follow in any diet. Chocolate lovers have it tough if they are to stick to the rules of locavorism, but I like to look at chocolate the same way as I do salt, oil, and seasonings: as a staple. It stores well and a little bit is long on flavor. But a great locavore dessert doesn’t have to have chocolate to be good. A pie bursting with local apples or a parfait with fresh cream and berries can satisfy any sweet tooth.

rhubarb tart

Hopefully my example of a locavore menu can inspire you take advantage of your fresh local bounty while you can. It is possible to be a locavore even when the growing season is over, but I would consider this to be “advanced locavorism” and will hopefully put together a few mid-winter locavore meals and post them here.

Last Sunday was inspiring. Chelsea and I tasted apples and pears growing on trees on an overgrown plot of land with magical soil. They are our “secret” trees that hopefully, one day, will not be a secret, and whose fruit will be shared with as many people as possible, near and far.

My mom told us about some wild grapes growing near a creek by my parents’ house. We went to inspect them, and it was the first time I saw wild grapes growing on vines. I’ve seen plenty of vines but never any fruit. The fruit was prolific. I grabbed a bunch and we headed to the brew shop in St. Charles to buy some supplies so I could make these grapes into wine.

Growing next to the grapes were bushes also heavily laden with berries. I haven’t been able to identify these plants yet. Maybe somebody knows? They range in appearance from a tiny gooseberry to a bright red currant. They are hard when they look like a gooseberry (most likely unripe) and soft when they look like a currant.

mysterious berry: honeysuckle! Thanks, Kyle.

wild grapes

pile of grapes

wild grape juice for wine

After stopping at the brew shop we were very hungry. We realized that we had only eaten “wild” food all day. Wild apples, wild pears, and very sour, wild grapes. Of course the apples and pears most likely had been planted by someone many years ago, but it’s safe to say they’ve gotten in touch with their wild side since then.

whole spit-roasted duck

The more somebody else has handled your food, generally the more expensive it will be. Learning how to take advantage of whole animal butchery is both a gustatory and financial reward. You will be happy with your resourcefulness and will make anyone who tastes the fruits of your labor quite happy as well.

Butchering a duck is quite like butchering a chicken. Both birds have similar shapes. You may be familiar with the term “quartering” a chicken. The same technique is used with a duck only with a few more steps, which I will show you in the below video.

I talk about butchering a whole animal, but in this case the duck is like the one you would buy in the store–sans head and feet. If you should harvest your own duck or purchase a Chinese-style duck, just remove the head and feet and you’ll be at the point where I’m starting. Of course, if you harvest your own duck you will have to de-feather it and remove the innards.

grilled duck breast lobes

duck leg confit

You may not think “whole animal” when it comes to butchering a duck, but you will see that a whole duck has a lot to offer in terms of meat, fat, organs, and bones. All of these various parts can be used for cooking now, curing and conserving for the future, and for stocks, soups, and sauces. If you buy specific parts of the duck, you are limited to a specific application; butchering a whole duck presents many different possibilities.

The legs and thighs can be confited in the duck’s own fat or ground up for sausages and pate. The breasts can be fileted with or without the bone, roasted or grilled, and eaten like a steak or sliced on a salad. The innards can be made into pate or used in a salad. The bones and trimmings can be roasted and made into a stock or a flavorful soup. These are just the basics, but once you learn the butchery, you can apply it to any recipe.

Use the video as a reference, remembering that you can fast forward and reverse it with your mouse if you don’t want to watch the long version.

Northern California

I hope that people enjoy reading Chelsea’s and my posts at the Pleasant House. Our content is based upon what inspires us. Our goal is to highlight that inspiration, to share it with you, and to hopefully inspire you in return.

Where does inspiration come from? It comes from the things around us that we see, taste, grow, hear, and feel. But do these things find us or do we have to seek them out? Sometimes, something inspiring may pop up right before our eyes, like a wildflower on the sidewalk or a mulberry on a tree.

mulberry tree

I’ve found that an increased connection to like-minded folks through blogs and even Twitter has led me to inspiring stories, techniques, and dishes. I’ve realized that inspiration is an addiction that needs to be fed, and the steady diet of stuff that comes to me while out and about is healthy and life sustaining; but to truly satiate the craving I need to get off of my ass and get out of my comfort zone.

Ideas and inspiration begin to wane when things get a little too comfortable, in my opinion. I need to shake things up a little bit, get out of the rut, take the road less traveled–”fish where others don’t,” as a friend recently articulated to me–take a bit of a risk to gain a greater return. Maybe we’ll gain a lot or maybe just a little; at least we will have gorged ourselves on experiences, the stuff that inspires.