December 2011

Its tenderness and flavor, size and cheapness were the themes of universal admiration. Edged out by apple-sauce and mashed potatoes, it was a sufficient dinner for the whole family…”

~Charles Dickens, ‘A Christmas Carol’

We came to poultry later in our grand scheme than we had originally intended. After purchasing day old chickens from the Murray McMurray Hatchery, and having some success with eggs and meat, we decided to try our hand at ducks. While attending a local auction, we ran across our fainting goat breeder (more on that story later) and found she had brought a hatch of Muscovy ducklings to the auction.

According to that old chestnut of a Christmas song, everybody knows a turkey and some mistletoe help to make the season bright. That is, everybody except those of us celebrating in the Philippines, where mistletoe is a mystery and the fowl most likely to grace a holiday table is a pork-stuffed chicken.

Here, snowflakes are made of paper, brightly colored lights adorn palm, not pine, trees and Jack Frost is probably nibbling on mangoes instead of nipping at noses. Nevertheless, some of the trappings and customs of Yuletide, such as colorful light displays and the exchange of gifts and greeting cards, have been adopted in many parts of Asia. But nowhere else is it celebrated with such a fascinating combination of religious adherence, secular exuberance and multicultural touches as it is in the Philippines.

I know lots of food nerds who read cookbooks for fun. Farmstead Chef is one that might be sitting on the coffee tables and nightstands of those same nerds. John Ivanko and Lisa Kivirist of Browntown, Wisconsin, have made sure that their charming book is full of stories from local farmers who are living their dreams on the land. This is definitely the part of the book that captured my attention. From success stories of local farmers finding their niche to articles about finding inspiration when faced with a CSA box full of daikon radishes, this book radiates with the idea of shared learning and community. Even the recipes have nice, personal introductions explaining why they love them or which farmer contributed to the dish.

Once a month, when I was a kid growing up in the 70’s in Minneapolis, my entire family would pile into the car and head over to North Country Coop on the West Bank. We would go into the ‘back room’ where giant blocks of cheese waited for someone to cut and wrap them. In exchange for our contribution as working members of the coop, we received a sizable discount on our organic fruit, vegetable, dairy and bread purchases. This was my first exposure to the culture of organic and sustainable foods and the cooperative system of bringing this food to the public. It was not fancy or grandiose. In fact, it was more like a warehouse than a grocery store.