Rear: tomatillos, arugula, and watermelons. Front: tomatoes, eggplants, sweet potatoes, and ‘Peachy Mama’ peppers.

Today I picked up the last box of our summer farm subscription (one of the food sources described in an article co-written by our neighborhood drop-off coordinator). This week’s box was one of the most bountiful of the summer, and more representative of what our winter boxes were like. With the drought that hit Maryland earlier this summer, the summer subscription didn’t match our experience in the winter. Even with the intellectual knowledge that low returns were due to crop failure, and the consolation that everyone we knew with a CSA was experiencing the same thing, it was a bit disappointing. We were quite glad that we’d experienced the winter subscription first, as we likely wouldn’t continue after this year’s admittedly unusual experience. However, we did experience the winter subscription first, and having done so we’ll likely give next year’s summer subscription another try to see what a non-fluke-low-year is like.

For now — and by ‘now’ I mean the six weeks until our winter subscription picks up — we’ll rely on the farmers’ markets to supply us with our fresh food (once we eat all that stuff from our box, that is). Because we don’t have a car, we aren’t able to get to the market where our farmer brings his produce, but there are several other small and local farmers to support at the markets we can get to by foot or bike or train (or some combination thereof).

With the apples in season, I’ll be making sure not to miss my weekly trip, even if we do have eggplants, watermelons and sweet potatoes coming out our wazoos. I won’t be making as many pies this year, with our cholesterol-busting plan in full swing, but I can’t wait to get my annual fix of crispy tart Braeburns. I’ve sworn off grocery store apples this year, for reasons of cost and perpetually disappointing taste, so these will be the first we’ve had in a long time. With a little luck, I won’t have to go all the way in to the Dupont Circle market downtown to find apples that are minimally sprayed.

Maybe it’s a function of growing up in food farming regions, but I didn’t realize until recently that my approach to eating had become something of a ‘movement’ and that there was a cute phrase attached to the idea that it’s always best, economically as well as gastronomically, to buy your food directly from the person who grows it. Or, at an even more basic level, that food is grown not manufactured, and the quicker it gets to you, the fresher it is. Food coops, local organic stores, and farmers’ markets have been the mainstays of my food supply for over 10 years now, since my post-college days of belonging to the coop around the corner from my house in West Philly. It’s still a little odd to find myself part of a way of living that now has regular publications and gets national press.

But, you know, really: as long as I can eat what I like and walk to get it, I’m happy.

Dinner, day two.

Last week I made stuffed squash for the first time. It’s not the kind of thing that I ate much of growing up, nor is it the sort of thing I would order in a restaurant. But it appeared to be one of the few ways to actually eat a squash as a meal, so I thought I’d give it a try.

We’d received two butternut squash as part of our summer farm subscription, and I’d let them cure on the sideboard the recommended 10 days or so. I lacked a meatless recipe for stuffed squash in my own cookbooks, so I based my efforts on a recipe from a woman who is also adapting her cooking to lower cholesterol. And, the photo looked tasty.

For my version, I sautéed about half a head of garlic, three onions, three ancho peppers from our farm subscription, and three little yellow-green apples I had kicking around in the crisper. Spice-wise, I used a bit of dried sage, dried thyme, and salt and pepper. When that had cooked down to a nice thick goop, I mixed in a few slices of stale rosemary potato bread from the farmers’ market, chopped into cubes, and one egg’s worth of EggBeaters. To prepare the squash (which I’d already coated in olive oil and baked at 350F for about 40 minutes), I scooped out a bit of the middle to create a longer cavity. I then heaped the filling in, using it all on the two halves as the squash was large, and baked it for about another 40 minutes.

The result was, I have to say, underwhelming. It looked decent, and it was cooked all the way through, but it never really browned up, making us think we probably could have cooked it longer and/or at higher heat. The flavor was also very bland; it could have used fresh herbs, including rosemary, in much greater quantities. Finally, both of us had a mental challenge with regard to our expectations. I imagined only the savory Christmas stuffing of my youth, to which this stuffing definitely did not compare favorably despite its highbrow ingredients. My partner had a similarly difficult time getting over the conception of squash as a side dish, and kept looking around on his plate for the meat. Expecting that the squash would be quite filling, I had only prepared potatoes on the side; a green salad probably would have rounded out the meal more. Of course, when you’re eating vegetables stuffed with vegetables and a side of vegetables, a few more here and there probably don’t notably change your experience.

If we decide to try this again with our other squash, I’ll try a few different things. One, I’ll cook down the filling so that it has less water. Two, I’ll cook it at higher heat. Lastly and most importantly, I’ll add a whole bunch more savory stuff.

As part of my ongoing effort to learn how to cook and eat all the vegetables, I bought okra at the farmers’ market on Saturday, from one of the old guys who remind me of my grandfather. I had an okra dish that I liked the last time our friends brought over Indian food, so my plan was to reproduce that dish. Nosing around on the interwebs, I found a recipe for Bhindi Masala that I decided to try. Since Channa Masala is my favorite Indian dish, I knew I’d like the spices. And, I had all the ingredients, which is always a bonus.

First, I washed and trimmed 1 pound of okra (one of the two bags I’d purchased):

Okra in a bag.

Next I cut the pods in half, resulting in segments that were generally about 1 inch long, and set them to the side:

Okra in a bowl.

Having been forewarned about the sliming aspect of cutting into okra, I then washed the cutting board and knife before next thinly slicing two onions:

Two onions, one whole, one sliced.

Meanwhile, I warmed up the pan for two minutes, then added 1/4 cup of safflower oil, and heated that for another two minutes:

Pot.

This next step would have benefited from some garlic. In the future, I’ll mince two or three cloves and put them in with the onions and oil. This time, I cooked the onions over medium heat until they were translucent:

Onions and oil.

While the onions were cooking, I chopped the tomatoes. The recipe calls for two tomatoes; I used about a cup of cherry tomatoes and five small ones, all from our farm subscription:

Chopped tomatoes.

Once the onions were translucent, I added 1 teaspoon of paprika, 1/2 teaspoon of turmeric, and some salt and pepper. Unbeknown to me, my salt shaker was pretty much empty, so in the end it could have used more salt here. The flavor was also quite mild, so next time I think I’ll add 1/2 teaspoon cumin seeds and 1/2 teaspoon coriander, as with the Channa Masala. I cooked the onions and spices at higher heat until coated, about 2 minutes:

Onions with spices.

I then added the tomatoes, and cooked at high heat for about 1 minute (referred to in the recipe as ‘bhoona,’ the process of cooking off the liquid so that the spices coat the ingredients like a paste):

Onions, spices, and tomatoes.

Next, I added the okra and cooked at high heat (stirring constantly to prevent sticking) for about 2 minutes:

Onions, spices, tomatoes, and okra.

Finally, I added 1/2 cup water and 1 teaspoon garam masala, stirred it all around, lowered the heat, and covered the pot to steam for 15 minutes:
Everything steaming.

The dish warmed on the stove for about 1/2 hour following the steaming, and we then ate it over brown rice:
Dinner.

My general assessment of this recipe was that it wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t as flavorful as I’d like. In the future I’ll just modify the spices in the direction of the Channa Masala recipe I use, and I think it’ll be fine. If I’d had more onions (oops) I’d have just doubled it and used all the okra, since it only made enough for three servings (guess what I’ll be having for lunch). Since I didn’t, I’ll use the other bag to make a Madhur Jaffrey recipe, possibly ‘Sweet and Sour Okra with Chickpeas’ (if I can scrounge up curry leaves and tamarind paste).