Lamb Saddle and Sausage.

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On the way home, I showed everyone one of my ramp spots, and we picked enough for dinner. Ramps for Easter? Crazy. We cleaned and prepped for a bit, then had our  easter egg hunt. My mom has gotten really good at hiding the eggs. I’m sure some are still out there from years past, but I think Rebecca won this year – most eggs, plus the gold. Which was in the compost. Brilliant! Then dinner. I got a great lamb saddle, some fingerlings, as many green things as I could lay my hands on, some shrimp, scallops, clams, great bread, burrata, and I’m sure a lot that I can’t remember. Everyone helped out with the cooking, and it all turned out great. Best Easter ever.

Favas, Ramps (that we picked that morning), and Asparagus from a bit further south.

What they say is true! These is some good noodle at Super Taste Restaurant. The space is bare bones and very worn. We walked in at 9 :15 and there was one guy at a table. I wondered if the place had fallen off. Was abandoned by noodle snobs it for  harder to get to, dirtier, and dingier places and seem more impressive at cocktail parties? Nope. While I was the only white person in there, the room filled up and emptied out twice in the hour and 15 minutes we were there. Lots of people in and out, things to go, lots of people eating out of special metal bowls that I bet you have to be really special to get. And the noodles? Good noodles..We ordered Shredded Fresh Pork and Pickled Mustard Tuber. $4.75? Holy shit! What, do they make these in China? I’m always amazed someone can make money doing any kind of food for that kind of price, particularly because of how expensive most of the stuff i make is. But this is broth, a bit of meat, spinach, and some pickles. And loads of MSG. No gold plating.

The noodles were tender, springey, toothsome. They took the flavor of the broth well, which was rich with beef, pork, and a spicy, slightly smokey dried chili. And all of that MSG. Could have used more spinach and pickled mustard but for $4.75? Really good. We also got dumplings, and they might have been better than the noodles. The glossiness of the skin when they showed up at the table was brilliant – reflected all of that flourescent light, the red neon, the yellow buildings across the street.  And then they tasted good on top of it. Perfectly toothsome, great porkiness, great seasoning, scallions….other. Super Taste = Super good. (sorry, had to do that)

The tarragon-lime margarita was quite good. We put loads of tarragon, lime zest and juice, tequila, ice, sugar, and salt into the blender, and let it go. It was pretty great. Maybe needed a better blender to get a better texture, but it was mighty nice. Very refreshing.

I had mediocre beets, not thoroughly roasted, and we just dumped them into the blender, and buzzed them as well as we could. Added some ice, lemon juice, lemon zest, sugar, salt, and loads of tequila. Although I think some of the others might have been drinking theirs more because they didn’t want to waste good tequila than because they enjoyed the drink, I liked it. It was nice and rich, bitter, and beet-ey. If I was doing it again, I’d roast the beets really well, get them nice and sweet, use some beet juice, a touch of red vinegar rather than lemon, and use an anejo or reposado tequila.

We had some kale, beet tops, spinach, and wilted them all together in beef fat. Very good. I definitely got a kick out of the way the plate got attacked. It started as a single big mound and everyone was eating with their hands standing around the counter, and it just turned into a fish as if the universe or some aliens were trying to tell us something. Not sure what, but maybe it…..means something.

I’m not exactly sure how they’re cooked, and it’s no transcendental experience, but they’re good. Mellow smoke, well cooked – falling off ye olde bone – very lightly sauced. Really? I have to specify the degree to which they’re cooked? Yeah, I guess I do. At some point I’ll get to a place in Boston I went to that served some decidedly NOT well cooked ribs. Either way, I would have liked a bit more smoke at Rack and Soul, and they definitely taste like they came out of an electric industrial smoker rather than a proper pit, but they’re great all considered. I’m much more a fan of Rack and Soul’s ribs than what they make at those theme park places like Dinosaur BBQ and Hill Country. It’s also a much better place to sit around in than either of those two. Also better ribs than the last time I went into Fette Sau, but I like sitting around in that place more than I like the food.

Aside from the ribs at Rack and Soul, things were mixed. The space, as above, is good to sit around in. The staff is friendly, welcoming, all of that. The different rooms feel like they’ve been cobbled together and added on….but they also feel like they’ve been made to look like they were cobbled together and added on. There’s a good bit of ‘antiquing’ in there. But it’s nice.

The rest of the food? Some hits, misses, and curious omissions. Collard greens were good, but sweet, and I don’t know whether or not they had any pork in them. Needed some hot sauce in them. The sauces they had on the table needed some work too. Lots of corn starch not lots of flavor. Enough, but not a lots. Black eyed peas also seemed to lack pork, but were well cooked, and tasty. The mac and cheese was as good as I’ve had in a restaurant. It was very simple and straightforward. Good cheesiness, pasta was cooked well, and seasoned well to boot. Orange cheddar/velveeta goodness.

On to the badnesses…the fried chicken was not good. It was greasy, underseasoned, overcooked, and bland. Maybe a cornmeal crust? Not good. The braised okra with corn and tomatoes was crazy out of season, and tasted like sugar. The coleslaw was equally bland, and could have come out of a jar. Sometimes that’s what people want – I’m hip to that – but I never do. I like to taste the cabbage. And maybe we missed it (unlikely) but no cornbread?.

But! I like this place. The tea was good, both in sweetened and unsweetened form, beer was great and cold, and the biscuits were light and sweet. The bar looks like it’s got some big stools with high backs to sit in. So will I go back? Yes. I’ll get a quarter rack of ribs and a double order of collard greens. And I’ll drink a bunch of ice cold beers.

Before I was born my parents bought an old farmhouse in Woodbury, CT. There were tons of fruit trees and bushes on the property – apple trees, pear and peach trees, blueberry bushes, rhubarb, currants, quince, and a great big raspberry patch – great soil, and lots and lots of maple trees. The fruit was great, and most of it didn’t make it even into the house before it was eaten. But the maple trees were a different matter. In the late winter, the Flanders Nature Center next door put up buckets up and down the road on what seemed like every tree. They had a pretty advanced sugaring operation for the neighborhood, so with a little advice, my father started his own. He bought taps, hooks and buckets from the local hardware store, some canning jars, and he was ready to go. He tapped 10 or 15 trees, set three or four big pots going on the stove, and in a few weeks he made enough syrup to supply the 6 of us for the year, with enough left over to give away to especially worthy friends and family.

I remember tapping trees when there was still snow on the ground, and when the sap was running well (cold nights, warm days) we’d gather 15 or so gallons a day. Boiling the sap would fill the kitchen with sweet steam. The windows would fog up, the walls would sweat, and everything made of paper would get crinkley and a little bit yellow. We’d have the windows and door open sometimes with the temperature well below freezing. Every so often a friend and I would race outside in our T-shirts and see how long we could stand in the snow before we got too cold and had to run back in. But as a grown up, making syrup seems a lot like I imagine ice fishing is. You really can’t do much. You can add a bit more sap, you can switch pots out, you can strain t – but you’re mostly watching the stuff boil. But it’s great, even without a beer or 7.

The syrup my dad makes is not like most maple syrup out there. It’s like he took the advice the folks at the Nature Center gave him and used only the good parts. His syrup is thin, light, and very, very clean. It’s simple, light amber in color, and tastes a lot like it came out of a tree.

This year my father tapped 12 trees. I went home to help out and earn my ration of syrup for the year in March, and we got about 15 gallons of sap a day. The sugar factory doesn’t quite steam up the kitchen these days the way it used to since they’ve got a brand new hood fan. But cooking the sap still perfumes the whole house, and greets you very warmly when you through the door.

Beyond the tapping and sap gathering (which is self explanatory), making maple syrup is very easy. You strain out all the bugs and bark and junk in the sap, put it into a pan, and cook it down until it tastes good. That’s it. We use about a 30 to 1 ratio, so 30 gallons of sap gets you one gallon of syrup. My sister Meghan she said she took her share this year and reduced it again by half. I think that’s blasphemy, but that’s what she likes. But to tell if it’s done, my father drags a (special) wooden spoon along the bottom of the pan. If he gets aggressive, rapid bubbles, it’s ready. It then gets canned, and put down into the cellar.

At this point a lot of the syrup actually gets given away. As much as oatmeal and pancakes are breakfast staples in my father’s house, and as much syrup as we go through, we’ve only a few times run out of the stuff. And when we have run out…well, it’s very sad. I remember once or twice looking into the fridge when I’d come home from college and seeing a small plastic bottle of ‘Vermont’ maple syrup. It felt so foreign, so strange to have such pedestrian syrup in our house. Grade A fancy? Whatever. I didn’t touch the stuff.

But this year, I did some cooking with sap and with syrup. I went to the store with Ann to see what we could see, bought a bunch of things, and we had a pretty incredible dinner. Some things showed the sap really well, some didn’t. But it was great fun to cook with the stuff, and to build a menu around it.

We got some great lettuces from Massachusetts. Just a standard mesclun mix, but with the low light and maybe even low temperatures where they’re growing, they were really sturdy, dense, and delicious.

1 handfull greens per person
1/2 blood orange per person
maple syrup
extra virgin olive oil
sherry vinegar
sea salt and pepper

zest oranges using a vegetable peeler. Remove all pith, and cut into a fine julienne. Cut away remaining pith from oranges, and supreme them, reserving all juice.

Put supremes and zest into a big bowl. Season well with salt and pepper, drizzle with a bit of sherry vinegar, and about a teaspoon of syrup per person. Give it just a tiny bit of olive oil, much less than you would with a regular vinaigrette. Just a drizzle.

Fold in greens. They should be just lightly dressed, mostly my juice, and have a bit of sweetness from the syrup to cut the bitterness. Adjust seasoning. If you’ve got greens like we did, let them sit in the dressing for a minute or so to relax and soften a bit. Serve away.

1 4lb chicken, boned out completely, including legs, with skin intact
1 butternut squash
a few cloves
2 tbsp butter
zest of 1 orange, microplaned
sea salt and white pepper
maple sap
sea salt and white pepper
kitchen twine

Cut bones into 1 1/2 inch chunks and roast in a hot oven until golden brown. Place in a 4 quart pot and cover with sap by about 2 inches. Bring to a boil, reduce, skim and simmer the sap.

Season the chicken breasts with salt and pepper, reduce sap to a very,  low simmer. Add chicken, return to a simmer (very, very  low) and cook 20 to 25 minutes, or just until the internal temperature reaches 142 (or 136 if you really like chicken).

Once you get the breasts out of the poaching liquid, reduce by…reduce to sauce consistency, or till it tastes good and rich, and has some sweet, chickeney goodness going on.

For the roulade…

Cut squash into long, thin batons – 1/4 to 1/2 inch by maybe 6 inches, depending on how big your chicken legs are.

In a 10” sautoir over medium heat, melt butter, add squash in a single layer, clove, and enough sap to cover about half the squash. Add clove, season with salt and pepper, and cover with a cartouche. Glaze squash well, adding more sap as it gets down to sec, but cook until squash is barely underdone, 10 to 15 minutes. It has to hold its shape in the roulade so give it a chance. When they’re nicely glazed and a bit underdone, remove the squash to a parchment lined sheet tray (read: just a plate) and allow to cool.

Season insides of chicken legs well with salt and pepper, then the orange zest. Make a stack of squash on one of the legs, about 9 squash. The ends of the chicken leg should extend 3/4 inch beyond the end of the squash, and the sides of the chicken should pull up just to the top of the stack. Place the other leg on top of the stack, facing the opposite direction, so drum stick is on top of thigh. Roll legs into a log, and tie at 5 to 6 intervals with twine

If you’re inclined to cook things sous vide, you might want to roll this in plastic to hold shape, seal it, and cook it to 145 internal.

If you’re like me, though, season the outside of the roulade well with salt and pepper, put a light sear on the skin in a pan with some olive oil, then cook in a 375 degree oven for about 15 minutes. Rest roulade 10 minutes before cutting

Deglaze the pan with chicken poaching liquid, and then return back to the pot with the sauce. Strain into a small pot, and set aside.

To plate…

Put down a nice big dollop of kubocha puree, and swoosh it. Slice a chunk or two of the roulade and put that on the plate. Discard skin (and maybe tenderloin) from the breast, and slice thinly against the grain. You should get about 4 good sized portions. Sauce, and serve.

Peel and seed squash and cut it into about 1 inch chunks. Divide it into 1 or 2 cup bunches and make little tinfoil packets of them. Season each packet well with salt and pepper, give them a few tablespoons of maple sap, and a knob of butter, then seal them up.

Put the packets on a sheet tray and bake in a 400 degree oven until they’re soft enough to crush easily with a spoon, but not mushy. That’ll probably take 30 or 40 minutes. The squash shouldn’t really dry out, but if it does, give it some more sap.

When it’s done, dump the contents of the packets, butter, liquid, and everything into a blender. Puree until smooth, then pass through a chinoise. You should have just enough liquid to get the squash to spin. If you need more, use some sap. If it’s too loose the first batch, hold back some of the liquid from the packet.
Season with salt, pepper, and a bit of syrup and sherry vinegar if it asks for itt.