Corsican-Style Braised Goat

We drove out to the fair hamlet of Rollinsford, New Hampshire on Saturday to hit up the Seacoast Eat Local Winter Farmers Market. It was a blast and a half. There were winter vegetables, apples, cheeses and meats, along with baked goods, handmade crafts and live music. As tempted as I was to buy a string of sleigh bells for the front door, we stuck to food stuffs: duck eggs from Yellow House Farm in Barrington, Camembert from Brookford Farm in Rollinsford, veal from Kelly Brook Farm in Greenland, a top round roast from the General Butler Farm in Nottingham, pork loin from Lasting Legacy Farm in Barrington and goat from Riverslea Farm in Epping.

Whenever I see goat meat I think of our trip to Corsica, which is known for charcuterie, goat cheeses, and meats raised naturally on wild grass and the fresh mountain air of the island’s interior. This recipe is based on the types of dishes we enjoyed so much on our trip to Corsica. I used herbes du maquis – a combination of herbs commonly found in the Corsican Maquis – myrtle, thyme, rosemary and bay. If you can’t find a jar of herbs du maquis, you can go ahead and make your own from those ingredients.

Goat meat is leaner than other meats, so it’s best braised low and slow. The result is a tender texture and flavor that’s somehow sharp and mellow at the same time. A common side dish for this would be chestnut flour polenta, but if you can’t find chestnut flour (which I couldn’t) corn-based polenta is fine too.

Corsican-Style Braised Goat – serves 2

1 T olive oil
1/4 – 1/2 t salt
1 T herbes du maquis (or a combination of myrtle, thyme, rosemary and bay)
1 lb boneless goat leg meat, cut into 1 1/2 to 2 inch cubes
1 onion cut into wedges
1 clove garlic, peeled and diced
1 C red wine

Be sure the goat meat is not wet or it will not brown – dry with paper towel if necessary. Toss with salt and herbs.

Pre-heat oven to 325 degrees.

Heat oil in a dutch oven over medium heat. Add the onions and meat and sear all sides – this should take less than 5 minutes.

Pour wine into the hot dutch oven to deglaze, scraping up any bits from the bottom. Add garlic. Place in oven and braise, covered, for 30 minutes. Remove cover and continue to cook another 30 minutes.

Serve meat and onions over polenta or rice and drizzle with the liquid.

Ingredient origins: Olive oil – Italy; Sea salt – Maine; Herbes du Maquis – Corsica; Onion – California; Garlic – New Jersey; Wine – Spain

Easy Rustic Northern Shrimp

We had our first pick-up of shrimp from our fish share this week. A five pound bag of these little fellas, freshly plucked from the ocean only hours before. Very exciting!

This recipe is basic but delicious. The shrimp are cooked whole and peeled at the table. It’s not necessary to devein because of their small size. Tender and sweet, they don’t need much additional flavor, but the wine and seasonings lend zing and complement the sweetness.

Easy Rustic Northern Shrimp - Serves 2 – 4

2.5 lb North Atlantic Shrimp
1 1/2 C dry white wine
3 C water
2 T Old Bay seasoning

Rinse shrimp, removing any roe and long tentacles. (Note: The roe is actually edible! We tried a tiny bit on crackers just as you might any caviar. It was mild and sweet.)

Bring water, wine and seasoning to a boil in a large stockpot. Add shrimp, bring back to a boil. Lower heat and simmer 3 minutes. Turn off heat and let sit an additional 3 minutes. The shrimp will continue to cook during this time.

Remove shrimp from stock, reserving some liquid.

Serve in shallow bowls with a half cup of liquid and crusty bread for dipping. To eat: twist the head off (be sure to enjoy the glorious liquid from the head!), peel the shell off like a jacket and enjoy.

Ingredient origins: North Atlantic Shrimp – the waters right outside our door; Wine – California; Seasoning – Maryland

Late Season Farmers’ Market

Fresh produce in November? In New England? It can’t be done!

Oh, but it can, my friend. It can. After our local farmers’ market shut down for the season at the beginning of October, I was just so bummed. I’ve since been supplementing trips to a local farm to buy what’s left of their dwindling harvest, with runs to the conventional grocery store. While the super market hasn’t been all bad – you can find some things grown locally and/or organically – the produce is just not as fresh. Even if the says that the acorn squash was grown in-state, it’s still been sitting on the shelf for who knows how long, losing moisture, flavor and vitamins.

I was just beginning to accept it until today, when I learned that there is another farmers’ market somewhat nearby that is scheduled to last well into the winter. Hooray! I’d thought there must still be some crops coming out of the ground. It’s not like the vegetables decide to stop growing because farmers’ market organizers say the season is over.

We hopped into the car and sped off (or drove leisurely, obeying stop signs and traffic signals along the way) to our destination. There were only a few stalls, but plenty of fresh, local, sustainable produce. And it was cheap! We got leeks, onions, white potatoes, fingerling potatoes, sweet potatoes, bok choy, red lettuce, summer jean, dill, and tomatoes for $25. Nice. There was even a vendor selling local, naturally raised meats. Yay! I picked up two pork chops and some country ribs. I plan to do something with them this week, so stay tuned.

Besides the obvious benefits of shopping at a farmers’ market – fresher product, better nutritional value, environmental sustainability – there’s also something that is so nice about hanging out where people are just generally happy. The customers are happy because they are buying quality and they feel like they’re doing good by supporting local farmers. They are curious and interested. And the vendors are happy because they are proud of their product and making a living at something they are passionate about. They actually want to be there.

Not to keep driving a point home here, but compare all that to the supermarket experience. I’ve never encountered very much enthusiasm and friendliness at the check-out counter. Furthermore, supermarkets have become so far detached from the real that now even the human element has been taken away in some cases, and replaced with what my husband and I call Betty. Betty is the self-checkout computer voice. She’s friendly enough but, boy does she get snippy when you leave an item on the scanner.