Grapefruit Juice

Grapefruits

Here in the desert southwest of Arizona at the end of winter, a sequence of events begins unfolding that makes the approach of summer a little more palatable. First up, a nearby neighbor who has a grapefruit tree in her backyard but doesn’t like them cleans the tree of as many of these wonderfully sweet treats as she can reach and puts them out on her curb free for the taking. Well, this year we arrived early and without shame took them all. We estimated that we snagged about 70 pounds worth of freshly-picked pink grapefruit.

Immediately, I get to work juicing them with at least two gallons ending up in the freezer and another gallon in the fridge. Hopefully, we’ll get a second squeezing in before any of the fruits starts to turn, though, with hundreds of grapefruits that is a bit of a challenge (a not unwelcome challenge in this case). A large bag of fruit is packed up as a gift to our hosts this weekend and then the remainder are stuffed into every available nook and cranny of our fridge.

The second part of the spring sequence is that the nearby citrus trees are at the cusp of blooming and when they do finally start to burst forth, they scent the air with a fragrance sweeter and more intoxicating than anything we’ve ever smelled before. We often wonder why the perfume of blooming citrus isn’t the most popular scent everywhere. The way is now paved for the arrival of summer and in less than two months, as we start to approach our first 100-degree days, we’ll open our freezer to thaw a quart of pink grapefruit juice, blend it with sparkling water, and revel in the memories of our morning walks when we took in our first breath of a scent that over those days had us thinking that it is perfect to live somewhere that oranges, lemons, and grapefruit grow.

Bean Fetishists

Beans

Pssst, want some beans? We’ve got all the beans you could possibly want, from big to small, purple beans, red ones, black beans, white beans, and mottled ones, we will never be satisfied until we’ve sampled ALL THE BEANS!

Our hopeless thoughts/cravings to feed the addiction were reawakened by the Good Mother Stallard beans that are currently in the crockpot. Oh my god, they are amazing! While our pantry still has a breathtaking amount of beans in it (in the order of more than 30 pounds), I had to look at buying more of the Good Mother Stallard except Rancho Gordo is sold out. Searching for another source, I was reminded that Purcell Mountain Farms has also been a reputable supplier for the kind of fix only beans are able to deliver.

Speaking of delivery, I just ordered another 10 pounds. I’ve learned by now that the uncommon heirloom beans we find on the Internet are often gone by the time we are ready to buy them so on this occasion I’m going with the impulse to grab them now. With this order, we are purchasing the following; White Aztec, Pueblo, Orca, Gigandes, European Soldier, Amethyst, Aurora, Anasazi, Black Turtle, and Borlotti beans. They range in price from $6.56 to $15.70 a pound so some are certainly not cheap but the cost attests to their rarity and makes for an exciting proposition that we are going to be trying such a rare bean.

While you wouldn’t know it reading this post, I just took a nearly two-hour break from writing to go on an heirloom-bean-buying binge. It all started with me collating a list of the types of beans I could come up with that we’ve tried. I opened a new spreadsheet and started scanning emails for bean orders over the years since my initial idea was to share a comprehensive list of the varieties we’ve tried. That idea got out of hand once I realized we’ve already tried more than 70 types. After my buying binge and once we’ve had the chance to try them all, we’ll have reached no less than 90 types of beans out of the more than 400 known varieties.

I know of about another dozen varieties from some of the companies I’ve ordered from that are on backorder but after that, it feels like finding new bean types will only grow more difficult. That’s not to say we wouldn’t eat every one of them again. I think I can speak for Caroline too, we’ve never met a bean we didn’t like and would be delighted to enjoy them a second and third time should we be so lucky.

The Foggy Price of Food

Foggy Phoenix, Arizona

Earlier this summer, I wrote a post called Gas-Lighting and how the media’s attention to the inflationary price of gas and the consumer obsession with it is a red herring. Today, I’m going after the foggy shroud created around food and the supposed inflation people are suffering from in order to feed their families. Before I even work out the details of what Caroline and I spend on our luxury diet that one might perceive to be pricey, I’m going to say that it’s actually incredibly inexpensive.

Like everyone else, when I go shopping, I have some sense that I’m spending a lot of money on groceries as I pay the bill, and then there’s all the stuff I have to buy online because things like ပင္ပိ်ဳရြက္ႏု a.k.a. Burmese Crispy Mixed Beans are not available anywhere in the entire state of Arizona. Should you ask if there’s no substitute for ပင္ပိ်ဳရြက္ႏု, I’d have to beg for your understanding that without that a Burmese preserved ginger salad is just not authentic. Nor can I begin to accept the idea of an avocado and cherry tomato salad without my favorite Terre Bormane white vinegar at $20 per 16.9-ounce bottle from Amazon.

But then I go through the exercise of breaking down how I use ingredients and what they cost per portion. Two years ago, I examined the crazy price of my homemade dehydrated granola, which requires no less than three days to make after soaking, grinding, and drying for a couple of days. When my 10 pounds of raw organic almonds (yes, they are raw, almonds generally are pasteurized) from California after paying $100, it feels like those are some expensive nuts, as who spends $100 at a time on nuts? And you can bet I do the same for the eucalyptus honey, walnuts, flax seeds, pumpkin seeds, sunflower seeds, oat groats, and rolled oats that go into my morning meal. Well, it turned out that an entire 6-pound batch costs us about $45; again, who buys $45 of cereal at once? But that aside, my granola at forty-seven cents an ounce is costing us $1.88 a day. There’s also the matter of the eighty-five cents spent on soy milk per bowl of granola.

Unless we have eggs, which is what we do on the weekend. Take the four brown eggs, three slices of Kirkland bacon, one Vidalia onion, and a package of Chinese Chongqing Fuling Zhacai Preserved Mustard, and this hardly breaks the bank, costing a modest $2.81 each or $5.62 for the two of us to enjoy a homemade hot breakfast on the weekend.

Now, keep in mind that when we are eating breakfast at home, the most we typically spend, on average, is $2.76 per day. I’ll come back to this.

Lunch obviously gets more expensive, but not by much. Leftovers play a serious role in our lunchtime routine outside of the weekend when I can make something fresh for both of us. While there’s a gamut of meals, I’ll share two sides of the equation, one quick and easy, the other a lot more involved. On the one hand, it’s convenient for me to throw in a pre-cooked Angus burger from Costco, which sells by the dozen for $20.70 or $1.73 each. On top of this, I add an entire avocado that also comes from Costco, so $1.27 for that brings my lunch to $3.00. As for the peculiar lunch, being diabetic, I have to measure my options when it comes to carbohydrates.

The other lunch falls right out of the lap of luxury; it is called kimchi sundubu-jjigae, which is a Korean stew. The soup base I make in large batches and store in the freezer; it’s comprised of ground pork, onion, green onion, garlic, Korean chili powder called gochugaru, soy sauce, salt, avocado oil, and sesame oil. The rest of the ingredients include pork jowl, Korean dried green veggie (aster scaber is our favorite), shiitake mushrooms (preferably fresh), kimchi, extra soft Korean tofu, and a drizzle of sesame oil, sometimes a raw egg too. The cost of sundubu ends up being $14.00 or $4.66 a portion, as it’s inevitable that we have leftovers that Caroline gladly takes to work.

In order to come to an average cost of lunch, we’ll have to work through some of our evening meals as they fill in for lunch on many days.

Obviously, dinner is going to be a pricey affair but then again, not. As with our other two meals of the day, there is some diversity when it comes to our final meal of the day, too. Trying on occasion to keep things healthy, we are not beyond incorporating a couple of vegetarian options each week, such as kadhai paneer, which is Indian cheese with bell pepper, Roma tomatoes, and a few fenugreek leaves, served on our brown rice/quinoa mixture. Then there’s our obsession with beans, almost always from dry beans. We are comfortable buying Peruano/mayocoba beans from a local discounter for as little as $1.85 per pound or purple ayocotes that ring in at close to $9.00 per pound. Both crockpot dishes make at least four portions; we’ll go with 4 for ease of calculation. The cheaper dish with the Peruanos, an onion, six slices of bacon, and a quart of chicken stock costs about $8.00 or $2.00 per portion. The pricier ayocotes with onion, crushed San Marzano tomatoes, 1/2 a roast Costco chicken, a 4-ounce can of green chilies, and chicken stock come in at nearly $19.00 or $4.75 per portion. Mind you, it’s more common that a crock of beans will supply us with at least four dinner portions and 1 or 2 lunch containers for Caroline to take to work.

We are certainly meat eaters, and while we try to balance our expenditures there, the fish we order online from Canada costs us between $10 and $19 a portion. I can buy pork chops from Costco that end up costing only $2.30 a chop, but we also keep a supply of Mangalitsa pork chops on hand that, while considerably thicker than Costco’s, are $16.50 each, which in turn make the prime filets that cost $13.00 per 6-ounce portion seem almost cheap. Then, for a further example of our diet, we’ll fix pasta maybe once a month (I’m diabetic, so there’s a reason our diet is light on carbs). My goto pasta starts with red lentil/quinoa fusilli, Rao’s Arrabiata sauce, a can of corn, 1.3 pounds ground beef, an onion, and a handful of capers, which adds up to about $20 for a solid four portions or $5.00 per person.

Rounding our average meal costs up for breakfast to $3 per person per day, lunch of $5, and dinner of $8.00 brings us to the extravagant gourmet eaters spending between $800 and almost $1,000 a month on food. Mind you that over 90% or more of our ingredients are not processed; they are raw ingredients, often organic. With the international ingredients and online meat and fish, we spend an inordinate amount on those items.

Just remove the pricey meat and fish options, replacing them with meat and fish from any regular grocery store, and our average dinner costs drop down to only $4.40 per person, while lunch comes in at $4.13. Now, with breakfast at $2.76, lunch, and dinner, our daily costs are only $11.27 per day per person or $676 per month.

Of course, there’s the issue of time to shop, prepare, and clean up these homemade, healthy meals, and while we have the luxury of one of us having that time and the inclination to accept that to eat well, there’s a cost that comes with that. The alternative is what? Egg and bacon burrito at a drive-thru joint for $8.00, spicy chicken combo at Chick-fil-A for $7, and a couple of pasta dishes at a nearby Italian place for $50 for the two of us? We would easily be spending between $80 and $100 a day for the two of us doing that. So, if we ate like that just twice a week, we’d spend an additional $640 minimum on top of whatever we made at home, which would still cost about $500 a month for the two of us.

The price of convenience is contributing to poor health, use of income, and family time, while the perception and constant lament about rising prices delude people into thinking they can’t afford to eat at home while the purveyors of this refrain of madness continue to profit.

The restaurant industry rakes in just under $900 billion a year, while the grocery industry earns just over $810 billion, a nearly $100 billion difference. Funny, we hear about the billionaires minted out of Walmart, but we hear nothing about the extraordinary wealth being taken from preparing junk food for Americans.

Ayocotes

Ayocote beans

Never met a bean I didn’t like and a couple of months ago when we were in Mexico we stumbled upon a colorful basket of beans we’d come to learn are called ayocotes. With just a bag of them, we were saving those for a special occasion. In the meantime, Caroline went searching for what our colorful beans were called as when we bought them, we didn’t know they were ayocotes. Having found a supplier, we bought two pounds of them and this is our first foray into discovering whatever promise they might hold. While we thought corona beans swole after soaking, these ayocotes are approaching the size of key limes. After cooking, they are damn near as big as golf balls.

Just as I opened this post extolling my love of beans, these didn’t disappoint. If I didn’t still have over 20 pounds of various beans in our pantry, I’d order up another 5 pounds of these. My FOMO for rainbow ayocotes is running strong as I try to convince myself they’ll be there when we want them again.

Desert Ironwood Pods

Beans

No need to travel somewhere exotic to see these, well other than to Caroline’s office where they are growing next to the TPC Scottsdale golf course.  You are looking at desert ironwood seed pods and I’m just learning that they are edible, albeit slightly toxic. You can guess what this means, I’ll be harvesting some of them later today and doing my best to boil off some of their toxins so we can try an old indigenous food that isn’t apparently eaten very often anymore. As I write this trying to convince myself that I’ve identified them correctly, I’m having doubts because the videos of people harvesting them are working with much smaller pods. I obviously don’t want to poison Caroline and I so I’m going to have to figure out how to find certainty regarding what species these come from.

Christmas Beans

Christmas Lima Beans

Saturday morning I opened a 1 pound bag of Christmas Lima beans and started them soaking and by late evening they found their way into the crockpot to simmer overnight. I’ve been pretty good at making a pot of beans at least every other week this year and as is our routine, we start with dried beans. This will be our first time to eat this type of bean from my quest to track down exotic legumes.

And now it’s dinner time as we are tucking into these giant beans, these yummy, beefy beans of considerable heft. Cooked with chicken stock, an onion, six slices of bacon, a large can of chopped tomatoes, and a smidge of chile flakes, we are yet again afforded the simple luxury of a dish that anyone in America would find impossible to sit down in a restaurant to enjoy. Other than green beans or beans at a Mexican restaurant, where else can we enjoy a hearty bean dish in this country?

Thanks to the people at Rancho Gordo for making our bean dreams come true, along with the people of Peru for cultivating this variety.

Kraut

Homemade Sauerkraut

Back on January 3rd, I stopped in at my local Whole Foods to buy 22 pounds of organic cabbage. In the days prior, it began to look as if the weather might be cooperative this year; it can’t be too hot or too cold, or the project I wanted to embark on wouldn’t work. I had to acquire a new mandoline slicer as our old mandoline was no longer with us. I tried one time to shred this much cabbage by hand, but that is a horrible task. Another reason why I haven’t done this in a while, the lid of our 10-liter ceramic crock had first cracked and then broke in two after something fell on it off the kitchen counter. Caroline since then glued the pieces back together with an adhesive that was not food grade, but my feeling was that the lid never comes into contact with any of the contents of the crock.

So, with about 10 heads of cabbage cored and quartered into 40 pieces, I started slicing and stuffing the cabbage into the crock. After every six quarters added, I threw a tablespoon of salt on top, mixed it with my hand, and pressed it down. And this is what I did for the next couple of hours. The added salt breaks down the cells of the cabbage, and putting pressure on the shredded pieces allows me to fit it all in the crock. By the time I’m reaching the end of the slicing and I’ve made a huge mess of the counter and floor, the compressed cabbage has given up so much fluid that I have a good 2 inches of brine sitting atop the cabbage. All that is left is to put on the lid, fill the V-shaped rim with water, write the date on a piece of tape on the lid and wait.

Homemade Sauerkraut

Thirty-six days later it’s time to empty the crock. I’d wanted to wait until the 42nd day, but the temperatures are going up here in Phoenix, Arizona, and at a certain point the fermenting cabbage will turn soft and maybe even develop a strong alcoholic taste, which I don’t want. With that in mind, I pull the crock that’s been turning cabbage into sauerkraut up off the floor in the corner and get ready to start packing kraut into jars, 8 of them as it turns out. With 2 gallons or 7.5 liters of this German superfood, we lose a bit of refrigerator space but gain at least 8 months of fresh homemade sauerkraut. If you should think this isn’t as sexy as visiting the Grand Canyon, you’d be seriously wrong, but then again, how many people out there are able to indulge in such luxuries?