Sumac at the West Side Market

I don't know many Clevelanders who don't love the West Side Market. In operation for nearly 175 years, it is a combination indoor-outdoor public food market. I like to think of it as Harrod's Food Halls meets Middle Eastern Bazaar. As you jostle your way through the crowd (and it is always crowded on a Saturday), it is sensory overload, and every type of food, both that which you consider sublime and that which you consider straight-up scary, is probably represented.

Although mi esposo can't exactly be called a food enthusiast, he never passes up a chance to go to the market.

"If you wanna go to the West Side Market, I'm leaving NOW," I called up the stairs.

And though the good man never likes to have a project interrupted (he's been working on something up there, mad-scientist-style), he was down those steps like a shot.

"OK, I'll go!"

And out the door we went.

Every time I go to the market, I lament the fact that I use grocery stores at all. The market is much more exciting, and you often find much more exciting items. Mi esposo loaded himself down with the sweet pastries that his savory-loving wife will only make every once in a blue moon. And, to my delight, I found sumac.

Sumac is a spice that was relatively new to me. I was aware of its existence, but I had never cooked with it. No, it's not poison sumac either...different plant from a different corner of the world, FYI. I happened to see it on the spice rack at the Culinary Institute of America, so I asked the chef-instructor about it. He toasted some up and called the class to inspect it. When I didn't pick up a particularly strong aroma, I grabbed a tasting spoon and took a sample. It was simultaneously sour and salty-flavored.

If I love two things in cooking, they would have to be (sour) citrus and salt. In my opinion, both accents, judiciously applied, have a way of bringing out the best in almost any dish. Sumac does not however, contain any acid or sodium. Hmmmm...I cook for people who restrict both. THIS could be my new secret weapon, I thought to myself.

Since I returned from the CIA, I looked for sumac, albeit not as hard as I could have. The short story was it was unavailable at the grocery stores I frequent most often. But it WAS at one of the spice counters at the West Side Market. Thank you, ethnically-diverse and food-passionate Clevelanders! I should also mention that the heavy-handed couple of ounces the purveyor sold me rang up a total that is probably half of what it would have been if there was a McCormick's or Penzey's label on the bottle. (I've got a frugal side, so I'm just sayin'....)

The little bit of reading I've done indicates that sumac is used widely in Middle Eastern cuisine and is lovely on hummus, yogurt sauces, fattoush salads, and more. I intend to season some of the Lake Superior Whitefish I bought, and then maybe top that with a creamy, buttery fish fume sauce. (Sunday dinner can't come soon enough!) I also want to try sumac on loads of other things to see if it really is the great salt replacement I hope it will be for my sodium-restricted friends.

As I meander through this disjointed post, I may as well tell you that one of my classmates in my CIA class asked if I liked my hometown. I responded immediately with "yes" and explained that despite its many problems, Cleveland has some priceless advantages, one of which is the fact that it is a first-rate food town. He was genuinely surprised, but most Clevelanders and many, many transplants to this crusty, old city would agree with me. Those who don't should spend a Saturday at the West Side Market and overwhelm themselves with lovely, hard-to-find treats.

What I Did on my Spring Vacation

I've never tanned well. Figured I might as well cook.

Wisdom of the (really ancient!) Ancients

I just finished reading an article on the topic of Otzi, the Tyrolean Ice Man, written by a research scientist who focuses heavily on health and nutrition. (You can read the article here: http://wholehealthsource.blogspot.com/2012/04/lessons-from-otzi-tyrolean-ice-man-part_17.html)

The article indicates that our sensitive modern research has been able to identify, after some 5000+ years, what was in the Tyrolean Ice Man’s gut at the time of his death. Research has also been able to identify which health maladies from which our ancient friend suffered. It appears that Otzi ate a diet that many of today’s nutritionists would applaud: he ate a lot of plant-based food, a good amount of whole grains, and just a little bit of animal protein. Those same nutritionists would likely conclude that this is why the Ice Man showed no sign of obesity, diabetes, or cancer. However, scientists see that Otzi suffered from cavities + periodontitis , hardening of the arteries, gallstones, worms, blackened lungs, and arthritis. What ultimately did him in, however, was a wound from an arrow.

I mention the Ice Man’s diet alongside his diseases to underscore what you probably already learned in high school science—the fact that you simply cannot control for everything. So many diets these days promise us everything: a perfect physique, protection from cancer, reduced threat of diabetes, perfect heart health, strong joints, etc., etc. I hope I don’t have to remind you intelligent readers that not every promise made under the sun is actually kept.

First and foremost, do follow whatever diet your health professional recommends for you. Their job requires that they keep up on this stuff. Beyond that, eat what makes you feel vibrant, alive, and enhances your ability to do whatever it is you need to do. Some people feel that they thrive best on vegan choices. Others really shine on a heavy animal protein “Paleo” diet. Many of us feel best on what our grandmothers would have simply referred to as "moderation". No matter what you eat or do not eat, you still might get sick sometimes. Some Achilles heel (literal or figurative) in your health profile might put you on the sidelines. Like Otzi, you might have the misfortune of meeting an arrow.

From time to time, my father (who happens to be aging most gracefully, I might add) remarks that “Life is a fatal disease”. Sadly, Dad is absolutely correct. You will not be able to beat every odd. So enjoy every morsel and let each one fortify you and allow you to feel as if you are on top of the world for every day that you are on top of the earth.

It's a "Fred, the Baker" Monday Morning

http://youtu.be/petqFm94osQ

The Tripe-l Threat

Tripe is a little scary-sounding, innit? Tripe is basically cow guts, in case you are not a tripe aficionado. I certainly wouldn't call myself an aficionado, but I am an adventurous eater. I cannot say I have the desire to try every dish under the sun, but I do have the desire to try a lot of them.

And there I was, in a homespun Italian eatery when "Trippa Parmiagano" caught my eye. My thought process immediately went something like this: "No way. NOT eating tripe. What else is on this menu?" I scanned the whole menu again, but it was a pretty typical Italian menu and having worked for 3 years in a similarly-themed restaurant, there was almost nothing on that menu I hadn't already eaten a lifetime supply of, nothing new that piqued my interest. Except tripe.

Tripe was on plenty of Mexican menus in Chicago when I lived there and subsisted on cheap burritos...but I was a vegetarian in those days and tripe hardly earned a second glance from me while I was searching for spicy carrots and "torta aguacate". So tripe never passed these lips. And so I ordered it this time. I won't bore you with a play-by-play description of the total dining experience. Suffice it to say, it posessed far less of the gross-out factor than the squeamish would imagine and far less of the blow-your-mind factor that the gourmands would imagine. It was OK...kind of like an earthy calimari.

But since my dining companion and I were both highly interested in tripe's nutritional profile, we looked up the information. Now here is where tripe becomes really compelling. A serving of tripe has a mere 111 calories and a whopping 17 grams of protein, but with negligible fat and carbohydrate content. Tripe is a pure power food! Truly, that is a lot of quality protein without much else to dilute it. "All killer, no filler", as the rock and roll crowd might say. If you are working on the body beautiful, tripe seems like a great choice, nutritionally speaking.  Plus, it has become rather important to consider matters like sustainability and the reduction of waste, so using the unpopular pieces/parts of the cow you are eating seems like the only right and responsible thing to do.

But, as I mentioned earlier, in terms of taste and texture, I found tripe to be merely OK. And I suspect that just "OK" will not really be enough for me over the long haul. So I need to figure out how to make tripe delicious...worthy of a craving.

This time, I am not going to talk to anyone who knows tripe. Nor am I going to look up a single recipe. I am going to see what, if anything, I can do on my own.  Kind of like a personal pet-project. Of course, I plan on starting this adventure in the warm-weather months, when every window can be flung open for the ventilation of my mistakes.  And don't you dare tell mi esposo.

I promise to keep you posted. But if you stop by for dinner and my egg noodles seem a little tough...well, you may have been secretly graced with some enhanced protein content in your entree. And of course you can thank me later!

The Wallace Stevens Moment

I hiked in two states today.

I am not backpacking across some mountaintop trail that runs through every state east of the Mississippi. I am just trying to stave off a weight problem as I take in some wonderful life experiences that (naturally) involve food.

The first experience is getting to visit with some family in Connecticut. When I was a wee lass, this branch of the family and I saw one another 2-3 times a year. Now, we are lucky to see one another 2-3 times a decade. My Connecticut aunt, who has always been a formidable hostess (she could take fellow Connecticut resident Martha Stewart with one arm tied behind her back) has made every meal like Thanksgiving. At the risk of appearing rude, many times I have had to push myself away from the table and amble towards the nature preserve at the end of her road. Either that, or finish the entire pistachio cake she baked and frosted to perfection.

The above-mentioned nature preserve is called Steep Rock. In past years, I have found my way to the summit of the steep hill for which it is named and taken in the breathtaking Western Connecticut wilderness. It is the only place I have ever seen a Scarlet Tanager, arguably the most beautiful red bird in existence. Today's hike was not so extensive, but I did pick up some rocks from the Shepaug River to give myself a sorely-needed upper arm workout while I lollygagged through the gorgeous springtime woods, birds singing and fluttering by me all the while.

After another one of my aunt's legendary midday meals, I made my way west to New York, where I am preparing for a week of intensive continuing education and continuing overindulgence at the Culinary Institute of America. Knowing that it's going to be pretty tough to "just have the salad" this week as I am surrounded by the best food made by the best chef-instructors under the sun, I took yet another hike to burn away the onslaught of calories. This time, I found a little trail behind Franklin Delano Roosevelt's home, filled with rocks and creeks and marshes and deer and frogs and blackbirds and a whole host of flora and fauna until a vista opened up and showed me the mighty Hudson River, up-close and personal. Wow.

This day creates for me what I would call a Wallace Stevens moment. Allow me to clarify that...in his masterpiece poem (one of my favorites), "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird", Stevens is utterly torn in the fifth stanza:


"I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The blackbird whistling
Or just after. "


Likewise, I am utterly torn. My Wallace Stevens moment is not knowing whether to prefer the culinary indulgences I have the good fortune to enjoy this week, or the natural majesty I have the privilege to experience as I correct for them.

In any case, today has been a good day, and I am grateful.