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The Weekly Newsletter |
Menus and Stories for April 30 - May 6, 2007
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| Inside the "hoop house" |
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Emily (queen of the office) and I went to visit The Youth Fresh Food Initiative last week. They are having a big plant sale today and, knowing I couldn't go today, Casey, the director, invited us out at another time.
YFFI is the group who turns all of our compostable materials into rich soil. The students, who are staying in school and learning about real food and good growing practices and other things (instead of the horrible things they had been finding themselves attracted to) tend a beautiful garden space in nearby Swannanoa.
If you look underneath the table you'll see a mound covered with things growing. That entire mound, Casey told us, was made up of piles and piles and piles of our compost. They still find a random squash plant or a surprise tomato here and there. But isn't this beautiful? I think so.
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The Volunteer |
Who is to say when this squash seed took over. Was it after that lovely wedding we served in August a couple of years ago. The one that featured our seasonal roasted vegetables? Or maybe it was took hold after being scraped out during a pre-soup session here in our kitchen in the middle of the winter. Hard to say, but it is fun to speculate, isn't it?
The squash is surrounded by fresh lettuces. Casey said he'd start bringing some in to us. I sure hope he does! Look for it soon in our deli case.
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| Compost, glorious compost! |
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Jon, our driver, hauls out the buckets and buckets and BUCKETS! (over 6 tons each year is our modest calculation) to the YFFI farm. He pulls up, empties the buckets, and the students take it from there, turning, layering, tending the vegetable refuse until it can be turned under some old abandoned sandy ballfield on its way to becoming another plantable space.
When I visited there a couple of years ago, the garden beds were nice, but not spectacular. On this visit I stood, stunned and dreaming of all that Casey and his students (and our compost) have accomplished. I have no huge reason to be proud, but I AM very pleased that this trash does not go to the landfill, but is a part of this living, inspirational project.
Look for Casey and his students at the Black Mountain tailgate market and, perhaps, at their very own school. (Oh, and look for their produce here.)
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Dinners to go |
Dinners, as you know, come with a freshly-made green salad, salad dressing of the day, and made-right-here bread of the day. We take reservations until noon or so. Please order by phone (252-1500), by FAX (252-02002) or stop in to speak to one of us in person.
As a reminder, every time you order a dinner to go you are eligible to enter our drawing. Just drop a card in our drawing jar (a business card works or fill out one of the cards that we have right here) and, at the end of the month, we'll pull one card which will be good for two free dinners-to-go.
Maybe you'll win next month.
Order a lot? Enter a lot!
Good luck!!
Here's this week's menu:
Monday - Maple Thyme Roast Spring Chicken with Mashed Potatoes 9.95
Tuesday - Lemon Chicken Florentine 9.95
Wednesday - Beef Bourguignone with Onions and Carrots 10.75
Thursday - Chickpea Cakes, Sesame Tabouleh, and Arugula 9.75
Friday - Shrimp and Leek Stir-fry with Wild Rice Pilaf 12.00
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Our website |
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| Special casserole of the week |
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We make a special casserole each week. Order before noon on Wednesday and we'll have yours ready to pick up between 4:30 and 6:00 that very afternoon. Order a full for 9 portions or, if your gang is smaller, opt for the half-sized one, which serves 4 or so.
This week's offering is:
Wednesday May 2
Chicken Pot Pie
Whole 32.50
Half 16.25
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Laurey in Brevard on May 5th |
Mark your calendars for Saturday, May 5th at 2 pm. I'll be reading and telling stories from my new book at Highland Books which is at 480 N Broad St.in Brevard. The phone number is
(828) 884-2424. Apparently there are some brownie lovers out there (!) so, bowing to the bookstore owner's request, I'll be sure to bring some with me.
Don't forget that Mother's Day is coming right up. If you haven't picked up your copy of Elsie's Biscuits, this might be a nice gift for your mother or your daughter who is a mother or your friend who knew someone who had a mother who was nice. You get my point, I think. We're making special Mother's Day baskets too, featuring this book about my mother.
More local and not-so-local readings are in the works. Will you be in Vermont this July? Cool! So will I! How about Michigan in June? There will be a special dinner at Zingerman's Road House on June 26th. Another one at Grits and Groceries in Belton, South Carolina in September, a visit to Atlanta at some point, a reading in Pinehurst in October. More are in the planning stages. I'll keep you posted.
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| Cecilia enjoys a Fritatta |
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We've been discussing whether or not to do special foods for children. We get a LOT of children here (which I like very much) but we don't make special kid-friendly food, per se. So we've been doing informal market research (watch and ask) and we've decided to stick with what we do, which is to make really good food that can be cut into small pieces for people with smaller mouths. They seem to enjoy it just fine.
If you need a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or a grilled cheese, you can always ask. But most kids seem to do just fine with our Baked and Fried Chicken and our fresh fruit and our green beans and our pasta salads and our, well, you get my point. Come visit. Bring the little ones!
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Don't forget about Swannanoa Culinary School |
Right. This is a hen. She lives at the farm where our compost becomes nice produce.
Which leads me to remind you to check out culinary classes at Swannanoa School of Culinary Arts. There will be two weeks of classes with a delicious array of teachers and topics. I'll be there for one session each week. Check out the website. Come cook. YUM!
(I'll see if I can bring some of this gal's eggs to use in my class.)
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Swannanoa School of Culinary Arts |
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| A Note From Laurey |
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April 28, 2007
Hiya,
Oh my oh my oh MY! Almost May. Sheesh. Zounds. Gosh. I sit here and write and think and muse and another month zips past. How?
I’ve had a nice week. First of all, thanks for all your notes about my mystery flower. It is Rose Campion, aka Lichnis. I KNEW that, but could not come up with the name. Now I know! Thanks.
A part of today’s garden report is my report of this year’s batch of poison ivy. Nice. I told Chris when she came here from Seattle to be careful in the woods, because our leaves seem to be particularly virulent. Well, after a weekend in the woods, BOTH of us are decorated with little red blooms – on our arms and legs. Ugh. Yesterday after a session at glassblowing I was SO hot (part of the challenge, to be sure) that my little poison ivy rash was driving me crazy. I called and managed to get a quick appointment with my doc who glanced, agreed, and prescribed for me. Off I hustled to the pharmacy for a quick fill of cream and pills before I scampered to be a judge at our local culinary school.
Chris and I both spent the evening watching, tasting, and commenting on the efforts of part of the senior class of culinary students. Chris was out in the special dining area with other judges, tasting the plates of food. I was one of the group who stood in the kitchen, watching and, occasionally, tasting.
Backstage on any event is an interesting place to be which is where I have chosen to spend much of my work life over the years. No matter what, however, once one crosses that proscenium arch, or the door into the dining room, the show goes on.
One little backstage drama last night happened when one chef’s assistant (both students) inadvertently brushed a pot of sauce that had been tucked up on a shelf, a sloping, not-too-stable-shelf, for safe keeping. Once brushed, the pot happily slid off its slanted perch, and emptied itself all over the front of the assistant’s chef’s coat. Luckily some of it also found its way into an empty sauce pan that just happened to be sitting on the stove underneath the shelf. The surprised assistant stood, dripping, somewhat horrified. The “chef” glanced, muttered, saw the saved sauced, and kept on serving up the course in progress. Meanwhile the assistant changed his jacket, washed his face, and helped as other assistants mopped and salvaged. The chef switched hats so that hers was covered with the reminders of the disaster and his was clean and neat, perfect for his visits to the judging chefs off in the other room.
The dinner continued. Courses were cooked, presented, served.
No one out front knew anything!
Later, giving my comments, I praised these two for their calm demeanor under such extraordinary (or maybe not) circumstances. They still seemed stunned at the whole thing, and were exhaustedly happy to be finished with this huge final project.
I went home and settled into my New Yorker magazine, too wired (maybe from the poison ivy medicine or maybe from the flying demi-glace) to sleep.
Okay – I need to write some menus. I’ll be in touch next week.
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On the cabin steps |
Here's Casey (he's in the middle on the right) and some of his students. Oh I love this program.
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