Farm-rasied meats

After reading Michael Pollan's Omnivore's Dilemma, I decided one of the best things I could do for my family was to avoid meats from animals raised on massive feedlots. Mr. Pollan does a masterful job of laying out all the things wrong with feedlot-raised animals so I won't go into it much here (EDIT: but you can read this online article from The Atlantic to find out more). Suffice to say, I am happy to avoid them. But, since vegetarianism isn't in my nature, I needed to find a viable alternative. I started doing a little research, looking for farm-raised meat that I might be able to get my hands on. It turns out that there are quite a number of farms in New England that sell meat and eggs from their animals. None seemed just right though for this change in diet I had planned - some were too far away, others offered a very limited selection, a few only sold meat "by the cow" (or 1/2 cow) or had a too-expensive "a la carte" system. Luckily, we found Chestnut Farms.

So, now, once a month we pick up our share of 15 lbs of assorted meats from animals raised by Kim Denney and her family as part of Chestnut Farm's meat CSA (Community Supported Agriculture). In our red-and-white cooler, we get various cuts of beef, chicken, and pork (we opted out of the lamb) - all are farm-raised, free-range, and hormone- and antibiotic-free. And local. Again, I'm talking about animals that are raised on a place that more-or-less looks like the image in your head when you hear the word "farm" - something like this...NOT like this.

In addition to being better for us and better for the environment, the meat we get tastes unbelievable. The pork is like no other pork I have ever tasted. The chicken tastes more "chickeny". The beef is flat-out delicious. All in all, I couldn't be happier with our decision to go this route. Sure, it's more expensive than buying our meat at the supermarket, but I don't think it is all that much more (we pay $7-$8 per pound for everything - so while $7 for a pound of ground beef is quite a bit more than what we'd pay at Stop & Shop, we even out with the tenderloin steaks). Regardless, I think it is worth it - given the quality of the meat we are getting, I'm happy to pay more. As Michael Pollan explains in Omnivore's Dilemma, Americans currently spend the smallest percentage of their income on their food than ever before. It comes down to choices and we've made the conscious choice to spend more money on our food than our cell phones.

On a non-food level, one of the best things about being part of the Chestnut Farms meat CSA has been the experience of getting to know the people that produce our food. Every month when I pick up our share, Kim is there to greet me. She spends a few minutes chatting with everyone and somehow remembers everyone's name. Each month before the pick-up, Kim sends out an info-packed email newsletter about the goings-on on the farm as well as what has been happening in her and her family's lives. There are regular "open barns" where the public is invited to spend an afternoon on the farm. Our kids have met Kim and they understand that she raises the animals that become our food and they are acutely aware that the food on our plates came from a once-living animal (a fact which makes our daughter Emma a tad uncomfortable, which I actually think is a good thing - more on this in a later post).

In my quest to provide my family with high-quality, healthy, local foods, I owe a huge debt of gratitude to Kim and her family. Their decision to do what they do has given me and my family the opportunity to choose where and how our food is produced.

P.S. check out this great article in a recent issue of edible Boston about Chestnut Farms.

(pig and cow images from Chestnut Farms website)

Sunday Gravy

Despite my French-Canadian last name, my cultural heritage is actually Italian (or more accurately, Italian-American), on my mom's side. As a kid, I had no idea that it wasn't "normal" to have lasagna at Easter, calamari and scungilli on Christmas Eve (and manicotti and meatballs on Christmas Day), or at least two dozen people over for Sunday dinner (including any number of "cousins" and "uncles"). Linda's given up trying to figure out who's who ("Is that Big Joe or Little Joe?" "Neither, that's Anthony's son Joe" "Big Anthony or Little Anthony?" "Little Anthony, Big Joe's brother" "And who's that over there?" "That's Anthony, Little Joe's brother." ). My Nonna seems to always be cooking something and none of us grandkids are ever in danger of starving at her house, which was right down the street from where I grew up - a street which within a mile lived us, my grandparents, one of my aunts and her family, my uncle and his family and my mom's cousin (who was like my aunt). It took me a while to learn that when most kids referred to their "family" they meant just mom, dad and sis.

Anyways, I digress. The point here is that much of my way of thinking about food comes from this upbringing. For me, family and food have always been abundant and inseparable. And no more so than on Sundays, when my Nonna or my mom would prepare the gravy. Now, I can't say with certainty that we had gravy every Sunday, but Sunday gravy was certainly the norm.

Yes, I said gravy. No, it's not the stuff you put on turkey at Thanksgiving (that's "brown gravy") and it's not the stuff that goes on biscuits (I don't know what that is). It's a red sauce. It's tomato-based. But it's not "tomato sauce" or even "spaghetti sauce". It's certainly not "marinara sauce" and you can't buy it at Stop & Shop. It may or may not involve meatballs, but always includes some kind of meat (usually pork and/or sausage, occasionally steak, rarely chicken). We always had it with macaroni - which meant ziti or penne or rigatoni - crusty bread, a salad, and red wine. The recipe that follows is not really a recipe so much as a template for making gravy - there aren't really any quantifiable amounts for the most part (though I'll try to ad lib some). This is what happens when the recipe comes from my Nonna - I don't think I've ever heard her use the words teaspoon or quarter cup. "How much oil, Nonna?" "Enough." "How long do you simmer it?" "Until it's done." "How do you know when it's done?" "You know." So, you just do it. And it comes out good, but never quite like hers. Because you never do it quite like she does - mostly because she doesn't tell you everything. Not out of spite of course, but because there are things that she assumes everyone already knows about cooking - for her it's second nature (maybe even first nature) and she doesn't realize that it's not like that for everyone (so actually, she doesn't even assume you know - not knowing isn't even a possibility). We always joke about strapping a camera to her forehead so we can record every single step. Even then, I'm sure we'd miss something.

Since I no longer live right down the street (though we're still just 40 miles away), I've started making Sunday gravy more and more myself. It's a slow food - you need several hours to do it right - so Sundays are good for it. Of all the recipes on this blog, this one is the most important. Sunday gravy is what this blog is all about - paying attention to what and how we eat. Gravy is about food, family, and tradition, and taking the time to appreciate them all. Of all the meals that I make, this is the one that connects me to my Nonna, my mom, and my aunts and one that I hope Emma and Jack will be calling me (or their Nonna) for advice on when they grow up.

(Generally, with this recipe, I cook a pound of macaroni, which is more than enough for the four of us, with leftovers. I also end up with a few cups of gravy that I freeze for another day. Adjust according to your needs, though I'd hesitate to go any smaller. Also, for the meat you can mix and match any number of cuts of pork, beef, and sausage - just be sure that it is fatty enough to take a long braising without drying out. Meatballs are another post.)

Macaroni and Gravy
~1 lb Italian sausage (hot and/or sweet)
~1 lb boneless "country style" pork ribs
2 28oz cans crushed tomatoes (I use Pastene brand, "Kitchen Ready" tomatoes)
1 medium onion, sliced
red wine (maybe a 1/2 cup?)
vegetable oil (olive oil will burn too quickly)
salt
pepper
red pepper flakes (optional)

1. Heat oil over medium heat in large stock pot (be generous with the oil)
   
2. Brown pork and sausage, turning occasionally, about 20 minutes
   
3. While browning add onion, salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes (if using)
   
4. Deglaze with red wine, scrapping the bottom of the pan
   
5. Add tomatoes
   
6. Rinse tomato cans with about an inch of water each and add to the gravy (this is one of those things Nonna doesn't tell you about - you just catch her doing it one day and when you tell her that she never told you about it, she replies, "Of course you do that!")
   
7. Continue to cook on medium heat for 20-30 minutes, stirring occasionally (make sure that you've rigorous bubbling, but be careful not to scorch the bottom)
   
8. Reduce heat; simmer for at least 2 hours, 4 hours would be much better; stir occasionally
   (you should notice a change in color, sheen, and consistency over the hours - darker, shinier, thicker. I actually gradually reduce the heat over the hours)
   
9. Remove meat to separate bowl
   
10. Serve over macaroni, with meat on the side