The Art of the Forage

Much as I enjoy tackling recipes that require various exotic ingredients and more than one trip to the grocery store - duck prosciutto and, say, burrata - there's something equally enjoyable about casting about the pantry and the garden for food within hand's reach, then devising some variation or invention using only those items. As the summer reaches its peak and grocery store parking lots teem with ill-tempered suburban warriors out to do battle in the produce aisle, I find it easier to do without that duck prosciutto or burrata (I've never used either ingredient, by the way - just pulling out the big guns to make a point). Luckily, we have a well-stocked pantry, and, even better, we have a small yet proud garden that is responding robustly to the midday heat that has finally arrived in Southern California. When it became clear yesterday afternoon that we had a basket's worth of tomatoes ripening their way towards perfection, the decision to base a meal around our Pineapple, Paul Robeson, Green Zebra and Black Brandywine heirloom tomatoes was made for us.

Incidentally, and as I've droned on about before, one of the awesome side benefits of using home-grown (or home-rotted) natural compost for one's garden are the inevitable number of "interlopers" that accidentally spring up from the rich soil, often from single seeds left smothered from earlier meals. This year, we discovered a hearty heirloom cherry tomato plant pushing up defiantly from the soil amid the pickling cucumber and watermelon vines. Through the month of August, the little invader has continued to grow and now offers a burst of red fruit for the picking.

In addition to our tomato crop, the Brown Turkey and Kordota Fig trees have also started producing ripening fruit. Forget fig newtons, and maybe even forget dried figs - the taste of a freshly picked and fully ripened fig is remarkable, a unique blend of strawberry and peach. The difference between the Brown Turkey and Kordota is also notable, as the Kordota retains its green color as it approaches full ripening, which means birds and many unaware humans leave them hanging from the branch, assuming them to be unripened. So, note the bright green color of the Kordotas in the photos below - I assure you, they were velvet soft inside (figs do not ripen once they have picked, so they must only be selected when ready to eat).

I had also been anxious to try one of the several jars of pickled rhubarb Jane and I had created earlier in the summer, a recipe I'd never tried and decided to tackle after several handfuls were left over from a rhubarb pie session (side note - I recently discovered that while the rhubarb plant itself is quite obviously and botanically a vegetable, it has been classified as a fruit in the United States since a local court made the decision in 1947, using the logic that a), rhubarb tended to be used more often as if it was a fruit, and b), imported rhubarb would be subjected to less of an import duty if it was classified as a fruit. I suspect reason b was the deciding factor). We both had little idea of what exactly pickled rhubarb would taste like, and several times I decided against bringing a jar to parties or get-togethers until we'd been able to sample the mysterious brew ourselves. Tonight would be the night, paired with goat cheese - a pairing I've seen recommended numerous times by various food writers.

The bulk of the fresh tomatoes were to be used for a basic bruschetta, utilizing thin slices of German rye bread toasted to a crisp and rubbed with raw garlic.....

.....and with the tomatoes tossed with oil-preserved sardines, home-dried oregano and flat-leaf parsley from the garden (By the way - I once thought I'd never get Jane to fully enjoy eating sardines, as they seem to suffer from a slightly poor image, just like anchovies. But once I pointed to conclusive evidence that not only were sardines safe for pregnant women to consume, but were actually encouraged - sardines are a kind of "super food," boasting essential omega-3 fatty acids, substantial amounts of calcium, protein, and supposedly improve brain development in babies - she's proven remarkably interested in the lowly fish)......

....the bruschetta were assembled, with several generous glugs of olive oil.

Well, the tomato/anchovy bruschetta were pretty great, the fresh guacamole made from San Diego's finest avocados was equally fine, and the Kordota fig fruit spooned out as instant paste was all the dessert we needed. But we both agreed that the pleasant surprise of the evening was the pickled rhubarb, which tasted exactly as we'd hoped it might - briney, fully pickled, yet sweet and sugary, with unmistakable rhubarb flavor. We loved it. I can see how it would go well with asparagus and roasts, alongside scallops or in leafy salads, as part of a cheese plate or charcuterie spread - really, it could prove endlessly useful. I highly recommend giving it a shot.

So, as the summer rolls along, we continue to look ahead. With San Diego's warmest weather often arriving in September, we'll be cultivating summer crops for some time. Just this morning, we pulled up the remnants of our pickling cucumber vines, now spent after providing us with a dozen jars of canned pickles. In its place will go newly-purchased young plants from the farmer's market - Japanese eggplant, Japanese cucumber, and Ping Tung, or Chinese eggplant. Let's hope the heat continues and our ability to forage for food continues through the new year.