Goats Take Over the World

For years the lowly goat got no respect. Not as cute and fluffy as a sheep, not as big and strong as a cow. As far as most people were concerned it was a scrappy looking, tin-can eating, sad excuse for a farm animal. But look who’s having the last laugh now . . .
Slowly but surely the goat has been taking over the dairy section with new brands of goat milk, butter, yogurt and ice cream popping up all the time. If you stroll into the beauty section, you’ll notice the same thing happening. See any sheep and cow’s milk soap and lotion on the shelves? I didn’t think so. It’s not because it doesn’t exist, but goat’s milk has firmly cornered the skin care market in retail stores and farmer’s markets. Just as goat’s milk is considered easier to digest, it is also absorbed into the skin more easily than other skincare products. The pH level of goat’s milk is about the same as the pH level of human skin which helps maintain the skin’s natural moisture content. I received Canus Goat’s Milk lotion as a gift recently and love it. Working in the food industry, I’m washing my hands constantly and this lotion has been keeping them silky smooth. Unlike other body lotions that seem overly heavy, Canus Goat’s Milk lotion is light enough that I use it on my hands and then rub any excess lotion onto my face. How do you think all those beautiful French milk maids kept their skin smooth and lovely? Goat's milk, of course.

Escaping Reality

Who among us hasn't dreamt of escaping the daily grind to make a living in an idyllic setting where our destiny is in our own hands? Meetings and constant text-messaging would no longer exist, the loud roar of traffic would be replaced by the soft chirping of birds, and the morning commute would consist of walking from your kitchen to your garden. Maybe you'd open a bed & breakfast, or a vineyard, or why not both?

In reality, this sort of daydream isn't easy to pull off and after too much time in the country I'm sure there's a few of you out there who would actually miss constantly text-messaging. Maybe what you need is not a radical change of career or location, but just a weekend away to somewhere like Shinn Estate Farmhouse. Barbara Shinn and David Page have owned Home restaurant in Manhattan since 1993. They also produce wine from their own vineyard, Shinn Estate, on the North Fork of Long Island. The final piece of the dream was put into place when they opened a farmhouse bed and breakfast with four elegant guest rooms, vineyard views, and Chef Page's morning breakfasts of "slow cooked eggs, savory biscuits, maple smoked bacon, and scones." Whatever it is you're doing this Monday morning I can guarantee that sitting on a front porch eating that breakfast and looking at a vineyard would be much, much better.

Wine country on the West Coast has no shortage of escapes either. The Black Walnut Inn is a wine country retreat in the Willamette Valley, a region known for producing Oregon's stunning Pinot Noirs. In Washington state,

The Inn at Abeja is surrounded by twenty-two acres of gardens and the rolling vineyards of the Walla Walla Valley. If you want to get really ridiculous, you can get in on "the dawn of the Solage experience," at the grand opening of the Solage Calistoga Resort in the Napa Valley this month. You can drink wine during the day then head to the Mud Bar and Bathhouse for spa treatments like a full-body "mud cocktail" with "nutrient rich volcanic" (and I'm guessing very expensive) mud.

If a wine country escape is not in the cards for you right now, then at the very least pop open a bottle in your backyard tonight, set out some cheese, relax, and dream of the day you'll open your own idyllic retreat and finally have that elusive kitchen-to-garden commute.

Kombucha

I am always suspicious of anything that comes out of Beverly Hills, especially if the word "miracle" is attached to it. How can it be, then, that my drink of choice this summer is both?

I can't vouch for any claims the product makes of miracle cures, but I can vouch that Synergy Organic and Raw Kombucha is the most refreshing beverage I've had in a long time.

Like many things Hollywood claims as theirs (anyone see the movie The Departed?) Kombucha originated somewhere else, as far back as 250 BC in China. Kombucha is a Western word used to describe a fermented tea. Among other numerous health claims, it contains probiotic cultures, the same type of good bacteria and yeast found in yogurt that can do wonders for the digestive system. When you drink Synergy's Kombucha, there will be a few soft chunks of yeast still floating around.
If you've been avoiding soda because it tastes like the equivalent of sucking on a dozen sugar cubes, then this drink might be for you. The flavor is much more acidic than sweet, almost vinegar-like, but in a good way. It's very fizzy, to the point where drinking it too fast can give you that brain-freeze feeling (again, in a good way). Some people claim they feel "mild euphoria, relaxation, and an overall sense of physical and mental well-being" after a few sips, which is probably attributed to the fact that Kombucha has trace amounts of alcohol (from .5%-1.7%). "Mild euphoria" is pushing it a little, but while drinking Synergy Kombucha I have experienced that same calming feeling you get after you've had a long day and then come home and have a few sips of wine. Mainly I like it because it tastes better than any bottled juice, sports drink, or soda I've tasted. Almost every store I walk into these days seems to have the slim, glass bottles of Synergy Kombucha next to the chilled water and soda. Get out there and buy a bottle before all the kids are doing it and you'll be too embarrassed to be seen drinking the stuff. I have this weird feeling that when Lindsay Lohan makes it out of rehab she won't be carrying her trademark water bottle anymore, she'll be holding a bottle of Synergy Kombucha.

Squid Ink is Fabulous

Usually when I fly I avoid the in-flight magazine until I’ve gone through all the other reading material I have, there’s no movie playing, and I’m bored stiff. Sadly, this happened yesterday before the plane even took off. Trapped in a stifling hot airplane for two hours on the runway of JFK, I pulled the Delta magazine out of the seat pocket and after using it as a fan for a few minutes, finally read a few pages. The article I read was taken from a guidebook by Splendora, a website that is the self-proclaimed “authority on Fabulous.” Making the list of fabulous things this summer were kite surfing in Tarifa, Spain, swimming in the rooftop pool at Hotel Gansevoort in NYC, and accessorizing with Cartier watches and belts and buckles reminiscent of the 60’s and 70’s! (that exclamation point is Splendora’s, not mine). I realized that if this was the criteria to be fabulous I didn’t have a chance, so I read on and then, finally, there it was, my chance to be fabulous.
What to eat this summer: Black linguine with lemon zest
Four years ago, black linguine with seared scallops was what I cooked the first night I met my future in-laws. The dish was a hit, which helped draw attention away from the near disaster that also occurred in the kitchen that night when I left a glass pan setting on the stovetop and it blew up and shattered into a million pieces, scattering glass and scallop juice all over the kitchen. But I digress…
Black linguine gets its color from squid ink that is added to the pasta dough when it is made. Although squid ink could be added to any shape of pasta, you’ll see it most often in the shape of linguine, spaghetti, or fettucine. Squid ink pasta is more about color than flavor. It basically tastes the same as regular pasta, but the black color, dulled only slightly after cooking, is striking, especially as a backdrop for bright red tomatoes, green herbs, yellow lemon zest or pale pink shrimp. Squid ink pasta also makes you think about the color of the bowl you’re serving it in; I like it best in a plain, white bowl so that the black color really stands out.
I don’t see black pasta regularly in stores, but its out there and you should keep your eyes open for it, because unless you plan to kite surf in Spain this summer, eating it might be your only chance at being fabulous, too.

Watermelon

There is, perhaps, no food more perfect for summer than Watermelon. Picnicking yesterday, I ate some refreshing yellow Watermelon, which I see occasionally in stores and more often at farmer's markets during the summer. There are about 200 varieties of Watermelon, and a portion of those have yellow flesh, which to me has a flavor that is slightly more delicate and less sweet than red melon. Most varieties of yellow melon have fantastic names, like Yellow Crimson, Desert King, Willhites Tendergold, Yellow Fleshed Black Diamond, Tastigold, and Orange Sunshine.
The nitty gritty of picking out a melon: A good Watermelon is evenly shaped and heavy. A yellowish or white color on one side of the melon is where the fruit contacted the ground and does not affect quality. Slap the melon lightly with an open palm and listen for a deep-pitched tone. Avoid melons with a high-pitched tone or a dead, thudding sound. Don’t, however, be one of those annoying people who pick up every melon, hold it up to their ear, and knock on it, as if they are an expert in the subtle tonal variations of watermelon.
Random Watermelon Factoids: In Japan, farmers found a way to grow melon in glass boxes, forcing the melon into a square shape and making it easier to stack and ship. My sister once ate so much Watermelon on her lunch break that she made herself sick and had to leave work. Watermelon is the official state vegetable of Oklahoma, which perhaps happened after Vernon Conrad of Bixby, Oklahoma grew a Watermelon that weighed 255 pounds. Some proclaim him the Watermelon King, a fact disputed by Lloyd Bright of Arkansas who grew one that weighed 268.8 pounds.
Eating it:
The best place to keep an uncut melon is on your countertop (they usually keep for up to two weeks). Put it in a fridge to chill at least four hours before eating. My Dad sprinkles salt on Watermelon to heighten its flavor, my Grandma pickles it, and I’ve been known to soak it in a little vodka and sprinkle it with mint. Last summer, feta and Watermelon salads were all the rage with chefs, although it doesn’t sound particularly good to me. Watermelon isn’t really something I want to eat fancied-up in a restaurant; I want to eat it outdoors sitting at picnic table, where I can spit the seeds wherever I please.

Torta Aceite

I first tasted a Torta Aceite from Spain about five years ago and instantly loved it. Thin and flakey, Torta’s have the savory flavor of olive oil with the light sweetness of sugar and a subtle anise flavor. It is the perfect cross between a cookie and a cracker; it pairs well with soft goat cheese and a glass of sherry, and equally well with your morning cup of coffee. I have to be honest though, it took me quite awhile to find someone who loves Torta Aceite as much as I do. It seems to be one of those love/hate foods. People are either immediately taken with the light, flakey texture and the rich taste of olive oil with a sprinkling of sugar, or their face crinkles up in an expression that says quite clearly “Olive oil and sugar do not go together! And I hate anise!” Now, I don’t like anise either and I usually stay as far away from its licorice-like flavor as possible, but in a Torta Aceite it’s so subtle it’s more like a whiff of anise hovering over the Torta.
For a few years I would only see the Torta in a handful of stores, like Olivier & Co. (who offers them at the best price, $5.00) but now they seem to be everywhere. They do not, however, seem to be flying of the shelves of gourmet stores, mainly, I think, because people have no idea what they are. Next time you’re in your local gourmet store or Whole Foods or Olivier & Co., buy some and give them a try. When you open a package they are best eaten within a few days, as I’ve noticed the Torta’s losing their crispness when exposed to air. In my house, The Husband is one of those who’s face crinkles up at the sight of Torta Aceite, so eating the entire package is left up to me. It is a task I thoroughly enjoy.

Plop Plop, Fizz Fizz

I’ve always thought that when I have a kitchen to remodel the first thing I’ll install is an extra faucet on my sink to dispense seltzer water. I love bubbles in beverages. If boring flat water disappeared completely and the lakes and natural springs and every faucet in the country started running with only seltzer, that would be fine with me. You can understand, then, why a jar I saw today in an Italian market caught my eye. The shape of whatever was in the jar was too intriguing to pass up and one of the ingredients was sodium bicarbonate, which meant bubbles. The next ingredient was Zucchero, which meant sugar. I realized I was pretty much buying a cross between a sugar cube and an Alka-Seltzer. But for $3.75, I was willing to gamble that maybe the jar held something more exciting, something that would turn any beverage into a delicious, fizzy concoction. To get right to the point, my first instinct was right. When I threw a dozen white twiggy things into a glass of water it tasted exactly like sugary Alka-Seltzer. Then, although it clearly said on the package to add water, I couldn’t resist putting one directly on my tongue. Before I spit it out into the sink, it fizzed and foamed in my mouth and I realized that I had basically discovered the Italian version of Pop Rocks Candy. I can’t say that I would recommend buying “Effervescente Tortoroglio” to put in a glass or on your tongue, and probably the jar I bought will sit in my cupboard until December when I will use the white twiggy things as fake snow on a ginger bread house. The thought of an Italian grandmother dropping “Effervescente Tortoroglio” into everyone’s glass at the end of dinner to help digest the gigantic meal she just served is kinda heartwarming though. You can even buy the stuff in a keepsake glass, although why you’d want to preserve the memory of indigestion, I don’t know. The sugar was probably added to this product in an attempt to make it taste better, but when it comes to curing indigestion, bitter is really the way you want to go. A bitter flavor, whether it comes from herbs, or hops in beer, or an arugula salad, gets the salivary glands going and your stomach juices flowing. Bitterness sends a signal to the brain to get the digestive tract in gear. When I was waiting tables for awhile, a fellow server frequently came to work hung over. She always sipped on a glass of seltzer water with a heavy dash of angostura bitters from the bar and swore it was the best cure for an upset stomach. This girl was not the sharpest tool in the shed and when she started coming to work drunk instead of hung over, she got fired. But it turns out she was right about those angostura bitters. Also, the bitter, herbal flavor of a traditional cocktail, Italian Campari subdued somewhat by a squirt of seltzer, is also good for the belly, which means all those Italian grandmothers are on to something too.