Glorious pokeweed...

Dr. Sams and a mess of pokeweed

There's no finer example of a Southern gentleman than Dr. Ferrol Sams.  If you don't know who he is, I implore you to find out (click on his name for a link to his biography) and read his books.  His first novel Run with the Horseman was is one of those novels that will become a part of your life, his memories become yours.   He and his beautiful and fully charming wife Dr. Helen Sams were kind enough to let us take over their kitchen and invade their sanctuary with our cameras, lights, cables and cords.  It would be an act of heresy to do a show about Georgia and not include dear old Dr. Sams.  

Dr. Sams is one of the few "old-timers" around that still enjoys the pleasures of the native pokeweed.  Pokeweed pops up in the spring and people have been eating its tender leaves and stalks since colonial times.  The weed has a reputation for being toxic, but if you prepare it correctly it's a remarkable Spring treat.  Dr. Sams spent hours preparing the greens and shared his preparation techniques with us for the show.  Delicious.

It's quite possible that no one on planet Earth enjoys fresh calves liver as much as Ferrol and Helen Sams and that dish was the real focus of our visit.

Fresh calves liver with Vidalia onions, dandelion greens & cider vinegar

Liver is one of those things that people either love or hate.  I found out that my crew aren't big fans of it.  I love it, but don't eat it too often.  I added the dandelion greens for a nice hint of bitter, and a splash of apple cider vinegar adds a nice twang of sour.  My dad likes to eat it raw with a bit of sea salt and coarse ground pepper.  I've tried it that way, but the texture is a bit to unique for me.  

It was a pleasure to cook for the Doctors Sams and I think it'll make for a nice way to end that particular show.  It was one of those days I'll remember until I stop remembering.  

The story of how my father met Dr. Sams is as good as any friendship tale you'll ever hear.  I won't tell it here in the hopes that he takes the hint and finally begins to write his own stories before they're forgotten.  

Next stop, Nahunta Georgia and the year's first blueberry harvest.  More soon,

Gesundheit!

Hasn  

Stalking asparagus...

Ultra-fresh asparagus spears at Full Moon

The first show we're putting together is really about the harbingers of spring.  Things like ramps and greens and, of course, asparagus.  Yes we all know asparagus makes your pee smell a little funny, but that's a small consequence on what is an otherwise amazing ingredient.  Even while the rest of the garden tries to shake off the winter blahs, asparagus shoots pierce the soil like bayonets in an attempt to harvest that early spring sunshine.  If you've never snapped off an asparagus spear and eaten it raw straight from the garden, you're missing something.  Compared to the grocery store variety, garden fresh asparagus is plump and full of liquid. 

 

Huitt stalking the asparagus in High Definition

Growing asparagus does require a bit of an investment on the farmer's behalf.  The plants take a few years to mature, are hungry for nutrients (good, rich organic material), and only produce usable spears for a short amount of time.  So a lot of time, space, and energy go into producing a relatively small crop, but thankfully enough farmers make the effort.  

Our search for asparagus brought us to a little farm in Athens that's doing things right.  The Full Moon Cooperative not only practices sustainable farming, they also have a CSA (community supported agriculture) that grows for about 100 families AND they have a restaurant whose menu utilizes the farm's bounty.  Pretty groovy.  It sounds like somewhat of a radical concept (and in today's market, perhaps it is), but ultimately it's a return to form on how food was once raised.  The farmer had a constant dialogue with his consumer and treated the land as the biodynamic, living, organic thing that it really is.  For whatever political, economic, or social reasons (and there are many), many farmers had to make the switch to large scale, single crop agriculture in order to survive.  That mode of farming requires an abundant supply of water, fertilizers, and fuel and is taxing on the soil.  It's nice to see that there is a movement to return to that more biodynamic, sustainable model of agriculture and Full Moon's CSA and restaurant example is one worth supporting.

Thunk...thunk (that's the sound of me getting off of my soapbox)

What was I talking about...oh yeah...asparagus!  Farm 255 (the restaurant face of Full Moon) invited us over for some chilled asparagus soup with chervil (both harvested that day at the farm).  If you're ever in the Athens area (made famous by the B-52's and REM...oh and I think there's some University there), make it a point to go to Farm 255.  You will scarcely find a fresher experience unless you harvest and prepare your own produce.  They also do all of their own animal husbandry, which means that any meats on the menu were sourced from their own animals.  The menu is dictated by what is available, which means it may only be limited to four or five items each day, but that's the point.  The menu is created each and every day from what the farm has provided or what can be sourced from other local farmers.  What a concept.  And to top it all off, it's downright good.  These are people that take pride in their craft and respectfully utilize the resources they're so fortunate to have.

Chilled asparagus soup at Farm 255

Once again I've gotten away from asparagus.  Let's talk about what to do with them.  I loathe limp asparagus.  As with any food, you'll find sweeping differences of opinion, but I'm somewhat of a purist when it comes to most things green.  Butter or olive oil, sea salt, maybe a bit of onion or garlic (or both), lemon and some fire and you're done.  My kids love them, possibly because they're allowed to eat them with their fingers, but more likely because it makes their pee smell funny...

Be well...gesundheit!

Hunting Ramps...

Wild ramps fresh from the earth

The word hunting may not be appropriate here as it connotes rifles or arrows or at the very least, some sense of participation on the side of the hunted...BUT...we went out hunting ramps this past week.  Ramps are the wild allium (think hyper-garlic) that grows throughout the eastern United States during a brief time in early Spring.  We get them in the North Georgia mountains in early to mid-April before they trees fully leaf out.  Ramps have a rich history in Appalachia and were even thought to ward off evil spirits and vampires (what's with people and vampires?).  Up here they eat them pickled and fried, but most commonly cooked with eggs or "taters" or both.  Unfortunately, many of the locals only eat the bulbs of the ramp and discard the greens.  The greens are quite possibly my favorite part as they taste like garlic-kissed spinach and can be used to add that garlic kick to more subtle dishes.  The bulbs will let you know in a hurry that they're there, while the greens just sneak that distinct flavor in.  

Once you find a patch of ramps (or "mess o'ramps"), it's a sight to behold.  You can walk in the mountains for hours and not see a single ramp and then come across an area that's nearly infested with them.  If the breeze is right, you can actually smell them before you see them.  Some of you may remember our ramp adventure from last year, but this one was different because it was in a new location for us and it involved the addition of horses.  Even though I was raised in horse country, this was my first time on a horse.  And you think you'd practice the whole equine thing on flat ground, but I had to hop on and give it a go on a mountain.  Luckily, my designated horse Sunny (or Sonny...he didn't spell his name for me) was gentle and patient and semi-obedient.  I don't know how Sunny felt at the end of the day, but I'm STILL sore from the experience.  And getting camera equipment up and down those mountains was less than a picnic too.  But I think it'll make for a great segment on the show.

Sunny the horse - my ramp taxi

I'd heard about ramps my whole life but was only inducted to the ramp culture last year.  I must say I look forward to them now and even my young son Finn gets excited about the possibility of ramps and eggs.  We saw ramps for sale in a farmer's market last year during our visit to Germany.  They're called  Bärlauch in German, which means "Bear's Leek", presumably because bears have good taste and enjoy them just as much as we do.  If nothing else, ramps give you an excuse to get up in the mountains and enjoy a good walk.  We've met ramp hunters that will admit that they're really not big fans of eating them but they go year after year with their friends just for the sheer pleasure of getting outside and doing something.  Those are the kind of people I need to hook up with so I can graciously take the spoils of their foraging.  

Huitt in a mess of ramps

Next we're asparagus hunting, but it shouldn't involve quite as much vigorous exercise.  

Be well...geshundheit!

Hans

Georgia clams...

Huitt shooting Charlie and the clams from the airboat

There's a thriving clam industry happening in the marshy wetlands and tidal flats along the Georgia coast. You could drive up and down the coast and have no idea that literally tons of clams are being cultivated beneath the nutrient rich mud. And we're talking world-class clams here...tender and delicious. One of the folks that's been on the forefront of the Georgia clam industry is Charlie Phillips, seen here searching for large, wild clams by feeling for them with his feet. The wild clams are large and heavy for their size. Charlie has been collecting wild clams since he was a child and knows exactly where to find them. He seems to have a a genuine love of the mollusk and it's no wonder that he turned from a life of shrimping to cultivating and harvesting these bivalves.

Wild clams moments after being pulled from the water

The clams he raises in the mudflats are much smaller (only 18 to 24 months old compared to the 5+ year old wild ones he collected) and are therefore more tender. Charlie and his crew plant clam "seeds" about the size of a fingernail by placing them in mesh bags much like what you'd buy onions in. As the clams mature, the bags are turned and relocated from time to time until they reach maturity. The tidal waters that feed these clams are rivaled only by Alaska for their cleanliness and the clams are truly better for it.

Garlic, white wine, clams, and mint...fresh and delicious

Charlie was kind enough to send us away with about 5 pounds which I cooked up on the dock with a bit of garlic, white wine, and a ton of fresh mint (added at the last minute). That's the kind of food that you can't get enough of. And the best thing is, clams are a food that require very little by way of growing needs. No chemicals, no feed, just clean water and a bit of TLC and you're rewarded with a delicious source of protein that's versatile and forgiving.  

Though somewhat chewier, the larger wild clams are downright tasty

As amazing as the clams are, Darien is known for its white shrimp and that's what we set out to find.  More on that in the next installment...

Be well, eat well...

Hans

the lure of the sea...

Darien, GA - Once the second largest port on the East coast, it even had its own currency at one time. Now it's a small community with amazing seafood and colorful, charming locals. On this trip I've eaten caviar, flounder, soft-shell crabs, shrimp, oysters, and clams and all of it from these waters.

We came here in search of the Georgia white shrimp and we came at this particular time because it's their annual "Blessing of the Fleet" festival. I'll get to the shrimp in another post, but for now, let's talk about crabs.

I've been cooking soft-shell crabs for a dozen years or more and never fully understood how they were collected. I know that crabs, like all crustaceans, molt and shed their old exoskeleton to reveal a soft, new shell that eventually hardens. I also knew that the season for these delicacies was only about 2-3 weeks long. I ignorantly assumed that the crabs stayed somewhat soft for that whole period and crabbers just harvested them while they were in their soft, vulnerable state. Not true. What happens is that mature crabs are brought into facilities right before they "shell out" and kept in holding tables and watched 24/7 during the entire molting season. As soon as they discard their old shell they immediately start to harden. The workers at the plant watch thousands of crabs pop out of their shells, move the to different pools as they harden, and then remove then as soon as they become the correct density for shipment. We were lucky enough to get some seriously soft ones to work with here since we didn't have to travel far with them, but ones destined for shipment are allowed to firm up a bit more. The crabs are then packed in straw and covered with wet newspaper and the refrigerated. They can last about 5 days or so like this, completely alive and in a state of dormancy. I must admit I do hate killing them (or anything for that matter), but I do love eating them.

Much more to come on our trip to Darien. Lots of good eating! I'll leave with a picture of our first night's kickoff party food. Low country boil with shrimp, corn, sausage (no, that's not a finger!), slaw, sweet potatoes, beans, and a hush puppy. Good stuff...

Be well,

Hans