The Stonington Intelligencer
Pleasures of the Table
7 October 2003
Warm Gorgonzola Beet Salad
by
Christine Carroll
christinecarroll@planet-save.com
It was another damp summer morning in the Borough and like many Saturdays before, the smell of yesterday’s catch was heavy in the air and the sounds of hungry seagulls pierced the waking day. Slipping into my flip-flops, I headed down to the fishing pier to cruise around the Stonington Farmer’s market. Held each Saturday from 9am-12pm at the Town Dock, the market has become a beloved weekend tradition for me. With a little over a dozen vendors, it is a small, intimate affair that nonetheless offers a diverse bounty for those who get there early enough. (Oversleep, however, and it’s difficult to find even a trace of the event’s more coveted offerings.) I’ve risen from slumber a scant half-hour late only to find that the milky white scallops from TALK Seafood are simply a memory and the last Cinnamon Roll Loaf from Bread Star Bakery walked away in its sticky splendor just fifteen minutes earlier. While lamenting my losses one morning to TALK’s personable salesperson, Lisa Richmond, she confessed to running over to the bakery stand soon after she sets-up her own table to snag the choicest bread selections. I’m sure her clever maneuver has helped her to an "unfair" share of the popular whole-grain loaf, pleasantly moist and densely studded with nut, but who could blame her?
During my trips this 2003 growing season, I have roused myself early and arrived with plenty of time to wander the dockside market at a leisurely pace. My intent is always to buy what catches my eye and let culinary inspiration strike only after the purchases are made. Unlike when I go to the local A&P, at the farmers market I allow myself the time to mingle with the sellers and inspect their goods. This leisurely attitude toward consumerism allows me to indulge all my senses: fingering the silky leaves of watercress, inhaling the acrid aroma of an heirloom tomato held close to my nose, slurping the oceanic depths of a freshly shucked oyster, admiring the sculptural quality of kohlrabi and listening to the sizzle and pop of organic sausages on the grill. It is during these outings that I begin to feel intimately connected to what I am buying, to the community that surrounds me and the land that supports us all. Not many other local experiences provide such a powerful impact, and I always leave the market refreshed, rejuvenated and inspired.
But beyond my own experiences, I also enjoy watching others get excited about what they are discovering. I recently overheard one patron gushing over a bite of fresh cracked-peppercorn sheep’s cheese, and caught a look of sheer delight as another experienced Portuguese sweet bread for the first time. A well-heeled woman looked curiously at a gigantic bunch of basil I was admiring and asked inquisitively what exactly it was. I couldn’t resist passing along not just the herb’s name but also my grandfather’s pesto recipe. “Sounds delightful”, she said as we parted ways. And of course, I feed off the enthusiasm of the purveyors themselves. I was praised for my sound economics by Four Mile River Farm’s Nunz Corsino when I snatched up a dozen of his free-range eggs, as opposed to the half-dozen that I truly needed. And thinking I was a dollar short of the total, his quick reply was to pay him the next week, his face emanating a warm smile. I’ve fallen so hard for the market that I have taken to giving their signature T-shirts as gifts. I know the out-of-town recipients are not aware of just how many weekend memories are sewn into the garment but I do my best to convince them to tag along the next time they come for a visit.
As for gathering the spoils of this summer, a recent trip yielded a mixed bag of produce and goods. I came away with a pint of late-season blueberries from Dondero’s Farm, both firm and refreshingly plump despite the tough growing season. After a quick dig through a basket full of their larger brethren, I unearthed a pound of mini pattypan squash from Aiki Farm; each tiny priest’s bonnet a different shade of green. The largest purchase of the morning was from Smith Farm and consisted of a colorful array of basil, beets, zucchini flowers and some lovely petite red potatoes. As I traipsed through the market, the giant bunches of basil trailed their spicy scent and quietly motivated me to grab two heads of fresh garlic from a stand that I was unable to locate during subsequent trips. I made a lunge for a chunk of the pleasantly mild feta from Sankow’s Beaver Brook Farm but was knocked off course when I became distracted by talk of a local Organic Cooperative tentatively being formed in the area; next time around I won’t be so careless. I rounded out my purchases with four ears of Silver Queen corn from Davis Farm and a small, subtly sweet apple tart from Laurie Pribble and her Little River Bakery.
With fingertips stained from berries nibbled on the go, I headed home with my conquests and carefully laid out the purchases on the kitchen table. In the approaching afternoon heat, the heady aromas of the basil and garlic mingled in the muggy air. It became clear that this pair was about to become an intensely fragrant batch of pesto using the same recipe I had shared earlier with a market visitor. I made quick work of the pulling, chopping and blending, feeding myself throughout with thick chunks of intensely salty Parmesan and small handfuls of pine nuts tasting of arid lands far from my humid confines. Within the hour, I had a batch of the versatile mix ready for both the orzo that had just been drained and the ice trays destined for the deep freeze. I was excited to think that these pesto cubes would last well into the fall, flavoring increasingly heavy dishes with the playful lightness of summer’s bounty.
A brief exploration of the freezer turned up walnuts and the refrigerator yielded a ripe Gorgonzola. From these discoveries, the pieces neatly fell into place as the beets silently beckoned me to draw on their earthiness with these woody flavors. An hour and a half of roasting allowed me to slip the skins easily from the ruddy globes, their ruby juices flowing freely over my hands and wrists. Roughly cut and combined with walnuts, red onion and Gorgonzola, the beets took on a surprisingly sweet note, grounding the salty cheese and oily nuts with an earthy undertone.
As the afternoon slipped away and the cooling breezes of the evening tousled my kitchen curtains, I took a last look at my table. Although there was still plenty to work with, I decided to end the culinary exploration and offer up my creations to an impromptu barbecue being held later that night. But as I tucked the remainder of my market finds into the crisper, my mind whispered thoughts of whole-grain French toast with blueberry compote and pattypan squash split and spread with sage butter. With those ideas spinning through my head, I retired from the kitchen determined to enjoy my weekend tradition during the mounting autumn harvest before winter slinks into the Borough and shopping, once again, moves indoors.
Walnut Gorgonzola Beet Salad
6 medium beets
1/3 cup Gorgonzola cheese
1/3 cup chopped walnuts
1/3 cup finely chopped red onion
1 tsp sugar (or more to taste)
2 tsp red wine vinegar
1 tsp extra virgin olive oil
Pre-heat oven to 400 degrees. Wrap beets individually in foil. Place beets on covered baking sheet (the juices will drip) and roast in oven for 1 - 1 1/2 hours. Under cold running water, gently peel away skins from beets (they should slip off easily). Once peeled, let beets cool completely and cut into 1/2 inch cubes. In medium size bowl, combine beets with crumbled Gorgonzola, walnuts, onion, sugar, vinegar and oil. Fold ingredients gently to mix. Serve cold or at room temperature.
Serves 4 as a side dish.
For more on the Stonington Farmers Market, please visit http://www.stoningtonvia.org/farmers.htm
© 2003 by Christine Carroll
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