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My Dear C –

Ach, I am sorry to read about your woes. Food IS SO EXPENSIVE these days. Here is a “let them eat cake” example – I was recently visiting a friend staying on the UWS of Manhattan, like right by Central Park, and I asked to be taken to the farmer’s market. I like a farmer’s market and enjoy seeing how they stack up, place to place. Amongst the fray, there was an urban composting hub, late summer eggplants, and romano beans (yum), tasty made goods and punny signs

and one sign I wish I had taken a picture of but was too shocked: “haricots verts $4” and then – in the upper right hand corner, a discreet “¼ lb.” Of course on the UWS, one might expect this kind of cool chicanery and not bat an eyelash. It’s kind of par for the course.

This weekend, I’m visiting my mother in our town of yore. And going to the Brentwood Farmer’s Market with her as a birthday treat (she does NOT shop there as a rule on her budget, for sure) with she who has the march of prices memorized from 1982 onward – is a litany of “guess how much these lettuces etc. cost?” (eyebrows very raised). It does seem like many vendors don’t even bother to put prices up because: if you have to ask, you can’t afford it! It is even more expensive than my local market, which is saying something.

Your letter reminded me of a question that arose back when I was working with refugees from the Former Soviet Union and volunteers who were helping them “acculturate” and learn English. I got a call from one volunteer, Burt, about something he considered a bit of an ethical quandary: The family he was meeting with had done fine for themselves and the adults had middle class jobs of some kind, if I remember correctly. They were long past the refugee stage but, had developed a friendship with Burt and so, they continued to meet fairly regularly. Burt would come over, and the family would offer him food they had picked up at their local food pantry – boxes of cereal, I remember, maybe a loaf of bread. Burt was appalled. He felt that this was taking advantage of the system – that there’s some tipping point at which you self-identify as no longer being eligible for a food pantry and stop using its services. He wanted my advice about talking to them about this. For better or worse, I can’t remember what advice I gave, if any. Perhaps it illustrates something about capitalism, and people who weren’t born under it and people who were. And maybe also about this overused word – trauma, and what experiences of food shortages at some point in your life might cause you to feel compelled to do. Anyway – as the kids say these days, a lot to unpack there. 

One thing I bought at the UWS farmer’s market was a little half pint of herbed, whipped feta. It was the most elfin green color. And it was tasty. I decided to try making a version myself and it turned out quite nicely. I mention it in this missive not just because I recently discovered it, but also because – for a cheese-involved thing, it is a fairly inexpensive and very decadent treat. It’s delicious as a dip, as a salad dressing (thinned out a bit – just tried it, yum!), as a sauce for beans, etc.  I think you can do the whole thing for $10 and get enough for you and S. plus a party….

I had to bring something to a party this week and I brought the leftovers of the batch I’d made and it met with great success. I mention the party because – I was asked for a recipe. I did glance at both the ingredient list of the version I bought in NY and a recipe or two online. Then I went forth and did what I could with what I had.

Here are the 2 absolute necessities in my mind – a block of feta and a hefty amount of fresh herbs (ideally 2 or more for depth of taste) that offer some grassiness (in that I mean something like parsley rather than oregano), and a little lemon/acid of some sort. IMO – some allium is always a good addition.

Everything else is variable, optional, to your taste – eg.  Do you like raw allium? Do you have some sesame seeds handy? How salty is your feta? What herbs float your boat? How juicy is your lemon? Does cumin make your heart sing? Do you want to spice it up?

Here’s the recipe I made today with what was on hand – which looks to have resulted in about a quart of the stuff!

Recipe

.79 lbs of Bulgarian sheep’s feta ($4.73) – I like Bulgarian feta as it’s cheap and strong

1 large bunch of dill ($3 at Gretna Green farmer’s market) pictured below – only very rough stems removed (there’s no scale in the image so – think 5x the little plastic cages of herbs you get at the supermarket)

2 scallions in their entirety 

1 Tbsp or so of sesame seeds (a bit stale, so I toasted lightly)

Small handful of parsley leaves 

Very small handful of dried celery leaves that were hanging out

Smattering of marjoram leaves (I prefer thyme)

Glug or more of olive oil  – for texture and to cut salt (my “more” was a dash of a peppered   olive oil that was on hand)

Several tablespoons of yogurt 

Juice of about ⅓ or less of a lemon 

I started with throwing  about ¾ of the block of feta and the whole bunch of dill, plus celery and marjoram in the Cuisinart (colloquially called “The Foot Professor”)  and improvised to taste from there. 

Much love and more soon – M

Revised Edition: Emerging from the depression, temper tantrum over, may cooler heads prevail. Amen.

Dear M~,

Food has lately been a fraught issue in our household, hence my long delay in writing. Inflation has been sneaking up on us, and suddenly the past 3 months our grocery bills were almost laughably high. Did I accidentally buy Humboldt Fog and wild scallops and Macallan? Am I sleep-shopping? No, same old same old, just skyrocketing prices. (And I say “inflation” with an eye roll–Costco has pocketed $90 billion in profits since 2020. That doesn’t happen when it’s actually “inflation.”) Anyway, this food situation lead to fights over money, which are second only to fights about mothers in terms of unpleasantness. We audited our receipts (no change, at all, in like a decade, in what we eat); scoured the fridge for pricey frills (the most expensive thing in there is definitely the probiotics); did our usual “only rice and beans” vow (as yet unfulfilled)…I read about a dozen blogs and Reddit posts about saving money on groceries, and a theme I kept seeing was, “Well, we are losing weight!” Which, Jesus. (I mean, the “meals” they outline I would categorize as snacks, so no surprise.) We eventually surrendered to, “Oh well, this is how it is, so be it, economize elsewhere.” Though we did cease almost all restaurant dining. (I can definitely make those $50 waffle breakfasts better at home.)

But the situation prompted me to pick up How to Cook a Wolf for the third or fourth time. I find this book a joy to read, though the topic is grim (and her meals oddly gourmet for someone living with rationing–it seems she never jettisoned wine and butter from her cart!). It also makes me feel connected to generations of women who have marched into the market, eyes sharp for deals, running calculations all the while, “Is that whole fish the best price? How much of it is bones? Is canned fruit actually thrifty? Seems like you’re paying for a lot of juice…” (I also adore that she has a chapter on feeding pets–our cats, with their respective prescription diets, cost more than Great Danes to feed.) I particularly vibe with this passage from Fisher, and may stick it on my fridge: “You can still live with grace and wisdom, thanks partly to the many people who write about how to do it and perhaps talk overmuch about riboflavin and economy [Note: Guilty as charged!], and partly to your own innate sense of what you must do with the resources you have, to keep the wolf from snuffing too heavily through the keyhole.”

We stopped fighting, and now that I’m sort of emerging from a depression I’m slowly rediscovering the enjoyment I normally find in food and cooking. I’m also finding ways to make economizing into a game or a puzzle, and having some success. A fun one is the “pantry challenge”–I reached far into the back of a cupboard and found a dusty jar of preserved lemons. So I made a tagine from dried chickpeas I’d had for a while, plus a random array of wilty veggies and canned tomatoes. I also found popcorn kernels and some ancient split peas, so those projects are next (probably not combined!). I also found an open bag of chickpea flour that I’m working on. Made socca, and while it was very filling, I can’t say I’m a fan. At any rate, I’m suddenly doing a lot more cooking, exploring new territory, and that, I know, will bring me out of my depression in time. And help me save a buck to boot.

Love, C.

Dear C –

All respect to having a new job and being slow to respond. I’m at the one year anniversary at my first new place after being at the same org for 20 years (!!!) and I feel like I just got my bearings.

There’s a meme about how being new at your job is like being the new character in season 5 of a show. Feels true. I miss you.

Listening to Velvet Underground’s Sweet Jane and it’s bringing back our days of yore.

Some people — they like to go out dancing and other peoples they have to work…. And there’s even some even some evil mothers – they’re gonna tell you that everything is just dirt. You know that – women never really faint and that villains always blink their eyes. And that – you know – children are the only ones who blush. And that life is just to die.

The thing about pescetarianism is that fish is SO EXPENSIVE if you want to buy anything sustainable. “I know a guy” who fishes halibut and crab seasonally and sells off his boat near me. I’ve got to meet up with him on a pier and on his schedule (a bit like a drug deal). When I do – it’s a joy (minus maneuvering traffic) and it’s a connection with the reality of eating an animal. It ain’t no Styrofoam package.

Working from home means that I can warm fish up in the microwave. So for this weekend’s meal prep I made a big batch of this stew with variations – I used leeks (greens included) instead of the onion plus harissa as part of the base. For veg — favas (only shelled, not peeled) from a friend’s garden, and fennel and squash. Skipped the clam juice. Added the favas shortly after the leeks and used my own scrap stock as the base.

The fish – went down to our sustainable fish market, and there wasn’t anything under $18 a pound. All the signs detail where the fish is caught and how and the fishmongers can talk about it. My mother taught me to ask at the counter for fish pieces — they had yellowfin and swordfish and those were half the price but not what I was looking for.

Ended up getting the cod at Sprouts because it was $12.99 / lb. They’ve got this sign saying everything is sustainable. Asked the very kind guy at the counter how the cod was caught and he said – “From a boat.” Fair enough…

Much love my friend. I miss you.

M.

Dear M –

Sorry for the hideous lag in my response–having a new full-time job and no longer working from home…it’s like I’m relearning how to be an adult. It seems being an adult means commuting for many hours each day, running to Costco at odd hours, and spending weekends doing chores and buying cat food. You know…glamour. But your culinary letter brought me immense joy. One of my recent weekend chores was clearing out decades of accumulated papers…I found so many letters from the 1990s, including a treasure trove from you! I forgot what devoted letter writers we used to be, before internet killed the radio star. So, this letter of yours brought me immense joy. Speaking of glamour and adulting: toilets. That must have been immensely satisfying, to do some plumbing and have good results. I once tried to replace the plumbing under my mom’s sink…it ended in hilarious, soggy disaster and a plumber had to undo my work. So, applause to you my dear! Sometimes being an adult is fun.

It’s OK to eat fish, because they don’t have any feelings.
– Nirvana, “Something in the Way”

Your chipotle soup creation sounds delicious, and I just so happen to have all of the ingredients on hand right this very moment, except for corn and chickpeas. Some diced sweet potato could add some starch, and I’ll eat it with corn tortillas! I also don’t have garlic scapes (I think I’ve probably never bought a garlic scape?) but I have the decidedly less sexy flat-leaf parsley. I’m currently doing a mass of recipe testing for a cookbook judging thing I’m doing, and am about to cook about 15 vegan recipes…I’m actually eager to try that, as I’ve never even tried to cook vegan, so it feels like exploring a new land. I have gradually cut back my meat consumption, probably by about 70%, over the last 2 years, for purely emotional reasons. (Though I totally disagree with Kurt, as fish most certainly have feelings. They are just fishy feelings, and therefore harder to read.) I made the new years resolution in 2019 to be a pescetarian, and I lasted exactly 2 weeks. Since then, I would characterize my journey as “slouching towards pescetarianism”… Anyway, for my job I have to eat everything, so I can never be too concrete about it. However, the joy has been discovering new ways to eat and new conceptions of “main dish.” This has meant fun times with tofu and tempeh, and many, many beans. I discovered that I love dal and make it constantly. This Mitti Handi Dal is my current fav, though lentils never let me down either. Another nice beany discovery: pinto beans, sautéed Swiss chard, cheddar cheese, rice, in a burrito. I’ve made some big lima beans and mashed them with garlic oil and lemon, or baked them with a Greek tomato sauce with dill and feta like a lasagna. I’m currently experimenting with soy curls, a weird and confusing invention out of Oregon. (They have a decidedly chickeny vibe.) Anyway, here’s a pretty yummy bean burger I developed for a bean-recipe contest. Next time you have a neglected can of chipotles hanging out in your fridge!

• Cooking spray
• 1 15-ounce can aduki beans (or substitute red kidney beans), rinsed and well drained.
• ½ cup finely chopped red bell pepper
• ½ cup finely chopped onion
• 1 garlic clove, pressed or minced
• ¾ cup unseasoned breadcrumbs
• 1 egg, beaten
• 1 ½ teaspoons ground cumin
• 1 ½ teaspoons chipotle in adobo (or 1 tablespoon if you like very spicy burgers!)
• ½ teaspoon salt
• 4-6 ounces sliced smoked cheddar or mozzarella
• 4-6 burger buns
• 1 cup arugula, packed
• ¾ cup crispy onions
  
  BBQ Burger Sauce:

• 6 tablespoons mayonnaise (light or regular)
• 3 tablespoons bottled or homemade BBQ sauce
• 1 ½-2 teaspoons chipotle in adobo

1. Preheat the oven to 375°F. Coat a baking sheet (1/2 sheet, 13”x18”) with cooking spray and set aside.
2. Place the beans in a medium-sized mixing bowl and mash thoroughly with a fork. There should be no whole beans, but don’t overmash or it will be gluey.
3. Stir in the bell pepper, onion, garlic, breadcrumbs, egg, cumin, chipotle, and salt. The mixture should be evenly mixed with no dry spots.
4. Divide the mixture into 4 (or 6) equal sized balls. For small burger buns (2 ounces each), make 6 patties. For larger buns (3-4 ounces each), make 4 patties. Use your hands to mash and press the balls into smooth patties that stick together. (You may want to wet your hands if the mixture is sticking to them!)
5. Place the patties on the baking sheet and spray the tops lightly with cooking spray.
6. Bake until the burgers are firm to the touch but not dry, and have reached an internal temperature of 165°F, 12-18 minutes. In the last 3-5 minutes of baking, top the patties with the cheese slices and put the buns in the oven to toast.
7. When ready to serve, spread sauce (about 2 tablespoons, or to taste) on the buns and top with a patty, fried onions, and arugula. Serve immediately.

BBQ Burger Sauce:

1. In a small bowl, stir the sauce ingredients together until smooth. Sauce can be made up to 3 days in advance and stored in a jar in the refrigerator.

Dear C –

I have been writing to you for some time – sometimes in my mind, sometimes on paper. Somewhere there is a notebook with a few pages of a letter to you, where I mention depression and me not calling you and you not calling me, as well.

Today, though, I had a triumph borne out of desperation: I fixed the toilet.

“Hello?”
“Is your toilet running?“
“What?”
“You’d better go catch it.”

Our toilet was running, and because the landlord is just the last person we want to interact with, and because now the plumber won’t come without the landlord’s consent, I peered into the depths of the tank and googled “Fluidmaster 400” and “Fluidmaster 400 hissing sound” and watched some videos, which involved grabbing the Fluidmaster firmly by the shaft and pushing up, and 1/8 turns, and clever use of a Solo cup, and lo! I fixed the toilet. I don’t know if you’ve ever fixed a toilet – and you probably have because you are practical like that – but for me this felt like possibly the apex of my life’s achievements. I rarely feel a sense of satisfaction or completion, or good-enoughedness, but today, C, I really did.

Then I sat in the sun for a little, with the cat, listening to the spring sounds of woodpeckers and Lesser Goldfinches, and the song of a Ruby-Crowned Kinglet (which I just learned to recognize – it goes teeter teeter teeter teeter TI) and thought about the rotisserie chicken about to go bad in the fridge.

And I made a soup, which turned out quite well and it made me think of you, again.
I had a can of chipotles in the pantry that expired at the end of 2020. This morning I used a bit of them in a shakshuka, and this evening I made a soup with the chipotles, scrap stock, the borderline chicken, onion, garlic, carrots, and a can of chickpeas and most of a can of corn (I saved some of the can to eat later with mayo and cayenne/chili powder – my bastardized elote treat).

Chicken Chipotle Soup

1 onion (I used red as that’s what needed using)
Oil (I used a couple Tbsps of olive)
A few cloves of garlic- roughly sliced
Couple carrots – chopped to your taste
Chipotle peppers – 3ish/to taste (Canned? That’s what I used; and they came in adobo sauce – added benefit.)
Cumin – couple dashes
Some roasted chicken, taken off the bone and in bite-ish sized pieces (I had a leg & a thigh and a breast & a wing)
Diced tomatoes – 14.5 oz can
Stock – 3 cups or so
Can of corn – 14.5 oz or however much you like
Can of chickpeas

Optional for garnish
Sour cream
Carrot tops and green garlic tops, chopped (but really any green to your taste would do)

I might have bought this can just for the looks of it

Dice the onion and saute in the warmed oil, when translucent —
Add the chopped carrot
Saute saute saute til the carrots start to soften, then —
Add the garlic & saute just until fragrant
Add cumin & chipotle —
I took the chipotle peppers and squeezed them through my garlic press
Saute for a minute
Add the chicken
Add the diced tomatoes
Rinse out the can and add the rinse water
Add the stock
Probably some salt – to taste
Put it on high so you bring it to a simmer
While it’s getting there –
Add the amount of corn that you want and
Add the can of chickpeas,
And, if you’re into it, add some of the aquafaba, maybe all of it!
I kept some to play with later

Once the soup has come to a simmer, make sure the carrots are cooked to your taste and turn it off.

Serve garnished with sour cream and chopped greens – eg. carrot & green garlic tops – that’s what I had in my fridge.

In my next missive – spring salads.

Much love,

M.