Cooking with Game: Partridge

Eric shot a partridge last November, and we finally ate it for dinner last night. It was scrumptious.

I just love partridge. It doesn’t taste at all gamey, and it’s so easy to prepare. We usually roast it. Here’s our fool-proof method, which Eric employed last night:

Season bird with salt and pepper. Rub skin with butter and place in a roasting pan with some ramps (wild leeks) and a splash of white wine. (We prefer the screw cap wines. Nothing but the best for us.) Bake at 400 for 35 minutes.

Interesting note about the partridge Eric cooked last night: When he cleaned it out, we saw that its last meal had been bittersweet.

I made a bulgar wheat salad to go with the partridge.  I tossed a cup of cooked bulgar with some olive oil, lemon juice, sliced grape tomatoes, diced yellow bell pepper, chopped red onion and feta cheese.  It was wicked good.

How do you like to prepare partridge?

Game Dinner

Sunday night Eric and I went to a game dinner hosted by Jim and Deb Lepage. Scott McEnaney came up with the idea for the game supper. He thought it would be fun and helpful if everyone cleaned out their freezers of all the wild game they’d frozen over the past year so they could make room for the bounty of this year’s hunt. And indeed it was a brilliant idea. The potluck dinner everyone put together with their game was terrific.

Eric concocted a wild turkey soup with the breast of a turkey he had shot (and with some chicken carcasses, carrot, onion, celery and sweet potato), and I baked a lemon blueberry bundt cake.

Bruce Woodruff made venison bratwurst. Jim prepared an hors d’oeuvre with slices of bacon that were wrapped around a piece of duck breast, a morsel of cheddar cheese and a slice of jalapeno. Scott presided over the frying of a turkey, and he cooked Triple Baked Pheasant Num Num. Brett Ference marinaded and grilled a striped bass he caught off the coast of Martha’s Vineyard. Kevin Andrezejewski slaved over a fish fennel and lemon risotto with smoked trout. Robin Kadet tossed up a salad with baby greens, grapes, cheese, toasted almonds and edible flowers. There was also a mushroom risotto speckled with wild morels, a colorful vegetable casserole, strips of mule deer and elk, what looked like pulled wild boar and lots more. It was hog heaven, and I pigged out. Oink, oink.

The buffet table at the game dinner

My favorite dishes were Bruce’s venison bratwurst, Jim’s duck appetizer, the risottos and Scott’s Num Num. I had never previously tasted bratwurst and I wasn’t expecting to like it, but Bruce’s brats were phenomenal. I was also dubious of Jim’s duck appetizer. I’m not crazy about duck as it is, and the duck-cheese-jalapeno-and-bacon combo seemed random to me, but I could have easily inhaled a half dozen of those nibbles. I also really liked Brett’s striped bass (pictured above in my blog’s header.)

If you’re interested in any of these recipes, let me know and I’ll see if I can get them from the cooks.

Chicken from Two Spoon Farm

On Sunday, when I was shopping at Clear Brook Farm, I purchased two whole, organic, free range chickens raised on Two Spoon Farm in Pownal, Vermont. I was delighted to learn that I could purchase locally raised, organic chicken at Clear Brook, which is going to be carrying chickens from Two Spoon Farm throughout the season. It seems Clear Brook Farm is carrying a lot more local meat this year than previous years.

The chickens weighed in at about five pounds a piece, though they looked bigger, and they cost $4 a pound. I paid $40 for two chickens, which to my cheapskate mind is a staggering amount of money to spend on poultry. Talk about golden eggs…

Two Spoon Farm Chicken

The upside of spending all this money is that Eric and I got three full meals out of one bird, and we’re supporting a Vermont farm. And that, my friends, is worth the money (and also the reason why I no longer buy designer jeans).

Eric hacked the chicken into eight pieces (we don’t own poultry shears, but since we will be buying more Two Spoon Farm whole chickens we will invest in a pair), and generously seasoned the parts with salt and pepper and then grilled them to perfection. The thick skin was as crisp as a Ruffles potato chip, and the meat was juicy and tender and tasted like it had been poached in matzo ball soup. It was geschmecht (that’s Yiddish for lip-smacking good). Two Spoon Farm chickens are raised on organic grains and whatever other tasty treats they peck at in the pasture.

There was a lot of meat on the chicken. Eric, looking at the plate of chicken on the dinner table exclaimed, “Look at the size of those breasts! They’re double Ds!”

Grilled Salt & Pepper Chicken

Two Spoon Farm also raises organic beef, pork, lamb and turkey and is offering shares to interested consumers. The turkeys, which are fed organic grains, cost $3.25/lb and weigh approximately 18 lbs, which is a good-sized bird. Grass-finished beef is $6.00/lb. for 100 lbs (a full share) or $6.50/lb. for a half share (50 lbs.) and comes butchered in a variety of different cuts (steaks, roasts, ground beef, stew meat, etc.) A share of pork, which like the turkey is raised on organic grains, consists of chops, ribs, smoked bacon, sausage, and for those who ask, ham. Pork costs $6.00/lb. and you get about 40 lbs. Grass-fed lamb sells for $7.50 lb. and a share provides roughly 20 lbs.

A $100 deposit is required to purchase a share in Two Spoon Farm. Then, 50 percent of your balance is due by August 1. You make your final payment when you pick up your farm share.

I’d really like to buy half a beef share for $325 and a pork share for $240, but Eric and I first need to iron out some logistics. We have to figure out if we have room for a chest freezer somewhere in our house, and if we have enough electrical juice to run it (we’re still running knob and tube wiring in our house).

The Economics of a Vegan Diet

I’ll be honest: I’ve always considered the vegan diet insane. It just seems like a recipe for starvation. If you want proof of just how extreme–and dangerous–the diet can be, read the article by Robert Christgau, “Beth Ann and Macrobioticism,” about a macrobiotic woman who died of malnutrition, with carrot juice dribbling from the corner of her mouth. I know I could never subsist solely on roots, nuts and berries. As I’ve said somewhat facetiously before, Give me Oreos or give me death.

That being said, I realize the vegan diet can be extremely salubrious, and I admire individuals like Dr. John Halamka who practice it sensibly. That’s why I try to reserve my judgmental comments for the diet itself and not the people who’ve made it their lifestyle. I’m sure many a vegan would criticize my diet of Pop Tarts, hamburgers, chicken fingers and donuts, and for good reason. What can I say? I love processed foods.

But I’m going to be thinking twice about consuming processed foods and meat, thanks to commentary I heard yesterday on on NPR’s Marketplace. Peter Singer, a professor of bioethics at Princeton University, gave the best argument yet for the vegan diet. What made his argument so effective in my mind was that it was grounded in economics rather than emotion. Professor Singer linked the global food crisis and rising food costs to the increase in meat consumption around the world.

What’s wrong with eating more meat, and what affect does it have on food prices? According to Singer, more people eating meat means more of the corn that we grow for food ends up fattening livestock as opposed to to being produced for human consumption. He writes:

..most corn isn’t eaten by humans; it’s eaten by animals and that’s the biggest part of the problem. According to the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization, 756 million tons of grain plus most of the world’s soybean crop are fed to animals…

When we use animals to convert grain and soy into food we can eat, they use most of the feed to keep warm and develop bones and other parts we can’t eat. So we’re wasting most of the food value of the crops we feed them. In the case of cattle, at least nine-tenths of the grain they eat is squandered.

The solution to the world food crisis, then, he says, is to “eat less meat, dairy and eggs.”

I recommend reading or listening to Professor Peter Singer’s commentary.  Let me know what you think.  I am prepared to be virtually tarred and feathered by the vegans and macrobiotic practitioners who read this post.

Why Buy the Cow…Shaftsbury, Vermont Couple Explain the Ins-and-Outs of Buying Cows for the Beef

Shaftsbury, VT — When Scott and Erin McEnaney decided to buy their first cow from a local friend in October 2006, they weren’t motivated by a desire to get closer to the source of their food. They simply wanted to help a friend who had a cow he needed to slaughter.

In return for going in on the cost of butchering the cow with their friend, the McEnaneys, who live in Shaftsbury, received a veritable beef bounty: close to 100 pounds of hamburger, ribeyes, T-bones, roasts, stew meat and filet mignon—all for a price of less than $3 per pound.

“I remember biting into the steak for the first time, and it was like nothing I had ever eaten before,” says Erin, 29. “It was like butter. It really melted in your mouth.”

Indeed, it was love at first bite.

The McEnaneys are representative of a small but growing group of food consumers increasingly turning away from supermarkets in favor of local farms for meats, dairy products and produce. The McEnaneys and their ilk are members of the localvore movement that is sweeping the United States as rising commodities prices drive up the cost to produce and distribute food and as Americans grow wary of agribusiness thanks in part to books like Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma and Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle.

According to a survey conducted by market researcher NPD Group, 61 percent of consumers report being concerned about the hormones and antiobiotics industrial farmers give to animals. Consequently, 43 percent of consumers have incorporated locally grown foods into their daily lives. The market for locally grown foods reportedly reached $5 billion in 2007, according to market research firm Packaged Facts. Packaged Facts expects the local foods market to grow to $7 billion in 2011.

Though the McEnaney’s decision to purchase their first quarter of a cow wasn’t influenced by any ideology, the couple, who both work for Orvis, has become more aware of the potential health benefits associated with consuming meat that hasn’t been tainted by hormones and antiobiotics as well as the importance of supporting local farmers. This awareness has motivated them to continue to participate with friends in the purchase cows for their beef. In 2007, the McEnaneys went in with a group of friends on a second cow raised on a farm five miles from their house. The got a quarter of the meat from that cow. They plan to pick up and pay for their third quarter of a cow from the same farm, Saga Morgans in Shaftsbury, later this fall.

“I’m more surprised that I ate store bought beef, hockey puck steaks for the majority of my life,” says Erin, who, at five feet four inches tall and zero percent body fat looks like she eats lots more salad than steak. “Now it’s like, holy crap, why did I wait so long to do this.”

Adds Scott, “Anyone who ever does this doesn’t want to go back to getting grocery store beef. If you have the money to do the initial outlay, it’s a great way to go.”

The McEnaneys are a font of information about buying cows from local farmers. Here, they share their advice and lessons learned on buying cows for the beef.

The Challenge of Buying Local Beef: No Viable Business Model

Since I started this blog in April, I’ve been giving a lot of thought to buying beef from a local farm. Clearly, it’s something I want to do. Supporting Vermont farms is critical to the state’s economy and to its future.

Unfortunately, I’m realizing that buying local beef isn’t easy, at least not down here in the southwestern part of Vermont. Consider my beef buying options:

Option 1: Drive approximately 30 miles to the Merck Forest in Rupert, Vermont.

The Pros:

I can purchase individual cuts of meat on an as needed basis.

The Cons:

a. I have to drive close to 60 miles round trip to get this meat.

b. The meat is frozen.

Wildcards:

a. I have no idea if this meat is expensive.

b. I don’t know what the cows eat. I do know that the meat is not certified organic, but the fact that it’s not doesn’t matter so much to me.

Option 2: With a group of friends, purchase a cow from a farm in Shaftsbury, Vermont.

The Pros:

a. Shaftsbury is a hop-skip-and-a-jump from my home in Arlington.

b. The net price of the beef is cheap. Friends tell me that the meat winds up costing around $4 per pound.

c. The cows are grass-, not corn, fed. Thus, I don’t have to feel guilty about supporting the corn-industrial-complex.

d. I’ll get a ton of meat. (This is also a con. See below.)

e. I’ll get to the know the farmers who raise the cows.

The Cons:

a. I’m responsible for getting the meat butchered, and finding a reliable butcher nearby is not always easy.

b. Since I’ll be getting so much meat, I’ll have to freeze most of it.

c. I won’t have room for anything except this meat in my freezer. Thus, I may have to buy a small, standalone freezer to store this meat, and I have no idea what that will cost.

Wildcard:

Coordinating with a group of people could be a pain.

I’m finding that the problem with buying local beef is the lack of a viable business model that serves both the farmers who raise the beef and end consumers.

The direct-to-consumer model that I describe above in option 2 puts too much onus on the consumer for that model to be viable. The practice of buying local beef will never penetrate the mainstream if consumers have to find a butcher for the meat, figure out a way to transport a side of a cow from the farmer to the butcher, and then have to buy an extra freezer to store all the meat. I realize buying local forces liberal do-gooders like myself to act in alignment with our ideologies, but I’m sorry: Asking average consumers to jump through all of those hoops is absurd. And for the Buy Local movement to become something more than a bumper sticker slogan and passing food fad, it’s got to penetrate mainstream consumers. We’ve got to find a viable and realistic way to get fresh, local meat on Vermonter’s kitchen tables.

In upcoming posts, I will talk with friends about their experience purchasing a cow from a local farm. I’ll also explore different options for getting local meat to consumers. In the meantime, I’m interested in hearing about your experiences buying local meat, whether you live in Vermont or Virginia, and what you see as the barriers preventing the Buy Local movement from really going mainstream.

Where’s the (local) beef?

A few weeks ago, I visited the website for the Vermont chapter of the Northeast Organic Farming Association (NOFA Vermont) in search of leads on local beef farms. The site provided a list of 24 “certified organic Beef farmers/producers in Vermont.”

The first few farms on the list—Auger Heights, Back Beyond Farm and Brotherly Farm—were too far away, either in the Northeast Kingdom or Orange County. But Crow Hill Farm in Tinmouth didn’t appear to be too much of a stretch when I located the town in Rutland county on my map. (Rutland is about a 50 minute drive from my home in Arlington.)

I called Crow Hill Farm, which is operated by Caleb and Louise Scott, a few weeks ago, and left a message on their answering machine. I said that I got the name and phone number for the farm on NOFA’s website. I said that my husband and I were looking to buy beef from a Vermont farm. I asked if Crow Hill farm did in fact sell beef to individual customers. I left my name and my phone number for someone to call back.

I never heard from anyone.

On Friday, April 11, I tried calling Crow Hill Farm a second time. This time, Caleb Scott answered the phone. Again, I explained that I got the name of his farm from NOFA Vermont’s website, that my husband and I were looking to buy beef from a Vermont farm, and asked if Crow Hill Farm sold beef to individual customers. Mr. Scott explained that he hadn’t sold beef since the slaughterhouse burned down. I told him I was sorry to hear that. He said, “I’m sorry to hear it, too.”

I was beginning to think that finding Vermont beef was going to be easier for all the wealthy Manhattanites shopping at the Union Square Farmer’s Market than it was going to be for me.

I returned to the list of Vermont beef farmers on NOFA’s website and found one in Rupert, which is even closer to me than Tinmouth: Merck Forest & Farmland Center. I dialed the number and found out that Merck Forest did sell beef that was raised at the Farmland Center. It was frozen, and I could buy it—along with pork and lamb—at the retail store. Linda, the woman who answered my phone call, added that the meat was not “certified organic” because the feed the cows eat is not organic, but she assured me that the cows were not hopped up on any hormones. (Wish she could give the same assurances about Roger Clemens.) I failed to asked what the cows eat, but I’ll find out.

I shared my findings about the Merck Forest with Eric. He didn’t seem crazy about the fact that the meat was frozen. He hates to freeze steaks, thinks it ruins the texture and flavor. I told Eric the frozen meat from Merck was worth trying. He said he wouldn’t mind driving up to the Northeast Kingdom.

Anyone know of a farm in the southwestern Vermont area that sells beef, preferably fresh or vacuum-packed?

(Image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net, where I couldn’t find a picture of a steer.)