Nurturing my inner... short-sighted setback

Picture this: the fall of 2010, Polyface Farms in Swoope, Virginia.  (Organic farm featured in the documentary "Food, Inc.")  Picture me: Writing about my field trip then, when I should have, yet I didn't.  The reason I didn't, until today, was that I had bought something I was going to make.  You know I can't just make a recipe without a story.

Before I cook, let's get a better look at the farm.

You'll notice this is not the farm.  This is a weird, rural America randomly odd, structure called "Dinosaur Land" that was on the way to the farm.  I'm not even going to look up what Dinosaur Land is, I'm just going to leave this out-of-nowhere weirdness for you to ponder.



Rock 'em, Sock 'em robots, Jurassic version.
My money is on the T Rex.


My friend was nice enough to suggest a field trip when I went to visit her, that October weekend lo those many moons ago.  We took advantage of the day since it was super sunny and she was already an hour closer to the farm that is helping to set the standard for the David versus Goliath fight against genetically modified foods.  Don't know what those are?  I suggest you do your research.  And watch the movie.  Once you find out what this country is doing to your food, chemically reengineering it in laboratories until it's barely recognizable, you'll want to think twice about what you're putting into your body and where you're getting your food.  (Yes, I am organizing a backyard mutiny against lab modified foods.)

Lush, green soybean field on the way
to the farm. Farmlands look so vibrant.

To set the stage, an organic farm may not be the picture of perfection and order you would think.  The funny thing is, they aren't concerned about it looking magazine cover worthy.  They are more interested in how they treat the animals and giving them the most natural habitat to grow in.

Covered areas for growing vegetables.

The owner of the farm, Joel Salatin (and his family), believes in nature as it was over 100 years ago.  Animals weren't trapped in dark coops or jammed over capacity into barns.  They were out in the open.  Free to roam.  To move about in the fresh air.  And eat what is natural to them.  He has a "salad bar" philosophy.  The cows are set in a wide area, surrounded by a portable electric fence, they dine there for a while, the chickens roam around with them to eat and fertilize the land in a symbiotic relationship, and then they move the cows to another area.  They do this at regular intervals to be good to the cows and the land.

Here today, over there tomorrow. Free
range cattle. (And their buddies, the chickens.)

The pigs are kept in large areas where they can race around.  And yes, that is especially true of the little ones who saw us and bolted in all directions.  Then came back often to the feeder to chow down.  The saying, "Eats like a pig," really rings true.



The bigger pigs are kept in other areas, so the
little ones have lots of access to food without
being bullied.

They also had a bunch of chicks.  Rhode Island reds.  They were in a nice warm area with plenty of sun.

Chickens like it warm. I do too.

I'm not sure if this guy got out or if he's always like this, but a goose was just hanging around.

Lost? Perhaps. Or loitering!

I noticed this large piece of farm equipment.  No, I have no idea what it's for.  Do I look like a farmer?

For hay? Sounds like a fine enough guess.

The grown up chickens had a very big area to play in.  I like the little trailer parked there and the fact that there is a chicken perched in it.  They can go anywhere they like.  As should be obvious.

Leave it to a chicken to get into that space.

Inside the building, they have several refrigerators and other places for food storage and selling.

That sign cracked me up. "Chickens are molting
early - no eggs today." And then a sad face.

The chickens are processed right on the property.  With careful attention to cleanliness and strict guidelines, but not with vast amount of chemicals.  Mr. Salatin wants to be able to process the beef there as well, but the FDA simply won't allow it.  I hope those rules change one day.  Because if America really thinks that processing beef at rapid pace in a facility full of harmful chemicals is more hygienic than in a building on a farm built especially to handle organic animals, we've become quite misguided.  Copious amounts of bleach aren't necessarily the best thing for your health.

Pork, beef and chicken of all types.

Okay, so what took me so long to blog.  Well, I bought beef short ribs.  And when I got them back to my condo, they went back into the freezer.  Then there were the holidays, and I was away some, and blah, blah, blah, I was lazy, and I didn't get around to it.  Then today, I was inspired.  With the idea of cooking with red wine.

Before I embarked on the cooking adventure du jour, I had another adventure to set back into motion.  My first outside run of the year.  I hadn't been running in three months for several reasons beyond my control.  When I'm in better form, I like to run several times a week.  So not having run all winter has been a real downer for me.  Today, I met a friend for coffee and was not only inspired by her 9.5 miles of running the day before in the rain and cold, but the temperature by mid afternoon was nearly 50!  The two were the magic combo to get me back on track.

For anyone who buys sneakers a couple times a year, man, a new pair feels SOOOO good when you put them on.  Like plush clouds under your feet.  Clean (they won't stay that way for long) and full of spring (which they will lose over time), I had to enjoy the moment.

Public service announcement: everyone who walks or runs should have a Road ID pouch.  In it I carry my key and a little money in case I had to stop somewhere and get a sport's drink.  It was a well spent $20 to feel at peace that I'm identifiable in an emergency.  And it's secure holding small, but precious cargo.

On it I have my name, town, emergency
contact info (in case something happens to me) 
and my inspirational quote from Heb 12:1 about
running the race marked out for us.

Since it was my first run of the year, I knew I needed to take it easy.  I just did a run/walk 4/1 combo for 30 minutes.  I felt like I could definitely go farther, but I knew I should stop there.  There will be plenty of days in the future when I'll be back out for 6 miles of running and walking, but giving myself an injury today by trying to push too hard before I was properly conditioned would have been a worse fate than a self-imposed, humbling short distance.  I had to look at the big picture and be patient.

Speaking of short, it was time to get dinner into the crock pot.

Braised Short Ribs in Red Wine

2 lbs of organic farm short ribs (mine courtesy of Polyface)
1/2 cup corn starch (for coating meat)
3 tbsp olive oil (for braising meat)
1 container of cremini (aka baby bella) mushrooms
4 cloves of garlic, large chop
1/2 medium white onion, large chop
1/2 bag of baby carrots, no chop
3 stalks of celery, large chop
2 cups of vegetable stock
2 cups of red wine
2 tbsps tomato paste
2 tbsps dark brown sugar
1 tsp Worcestershire sauce
1/2 tsp salt
3-4 sprigs of fresh rosemary
6-7 sprigs of fresh thyme

I took the beef out of the freezer the day before and let it thaw in the refrigerator for 24 hours.

Vacuum sealed, so I left it in there when I
got it home from the farm.

I thought there were four in there at first, but I think later I realized there were six.  Eh, who knew.
 

Break apart.

 Some key ingredients, corn starch and vegetable broth.

Opposites. Dry and wet. Need both.

Coat the ribs lightly in corn starch on all sides.

Light coat, just like I said.

Then have your digital camera act up, and when you thought you were taking pictures, not realize that something went wrong and a bunch of them never showed up or got corrupted on your memory card, and you wouldn't know it until later when it was too late to retake them.  Whine, stomp around the room like a child, threaten to throw camera out the window off your balcony, scream at the unfairness of technology and the imposition this glitch put on your art form, vow you'll never blog again, sit and stare at your laptop and the absence of photos you knew you took as if somehow by being bitter they will magically reappear, come to grips with the fact that they are lost for good, rescind your previous irrational vow not to blog again, then move on.  (You have to work through the seven stages of grief quickly on this one.)

So, picture in your mind, that you add the olive oil to a pan, and brown the meat on all sides.  It will take a few minutes on each of the four sides.  Put the braised ribs into the crock pot.  (Backslide mentally.  Try to tell yourself you're not to obsess about lost pictures, while you are indeed, obsessing about the lost pictures.  Try harder.)

Salvage what pictures did get saved.  Patch them together to tell the story.  Start with the onion.  (Because the garlic is gone!)

Chop it. Cry about the lost pictures.

Bring out the celery and carrots.  And wonder what made them so special your camera decided to preserve their memory.

Not the fanciest picture.

Take the mushrooms out of the package and carefully wipe the dirt off of them with a damp paper towel.  Which I did, but you wouldn't know that, because there are no pictures for proof, now are there?!!  (Insert Serenity prayer.  Repeat to self 47 times.)

The before with no after pic. As it was
lost in cyberspace.

Thank goodness this recipe included some wine.  Of course, only cook with wine you would drink.  If it's not palatable from a glass, why on earth would you want to put it into food?

A dusty bottle of Chianti. Saved it for
today's dinner.

And here is the short version of the assembly of the short ribs.  The braised ribs went in the bottom of the crock pot (you're just going to have to take my word for it) and on top went the onion, celery, carrots, mushrooms, tomato paste, salt, Worcestershire and brown sugar.  And on the very top, the fresh rosemary and thyme sprigs.

Looks like an English garden.


I poured in the vegetable stock and red wine and gave everything a gentle (despite my anger from earlier losses) stir. 

The color: odd, but luscious. Purple it is.

Pour yourself the remaining wine for immediate consumption and to aid in the healing process, add the lid to the crock pot, set the temp, step into the living room, enjoy the wine and think on your losses no more.  In four to six hours, you will have a lovely dinner and who cares if you missed a few pictures on the way.  (She says pathetically to herself as if she really means it.)
 

Glad there was wine left for me.

The pay off moment.  While others were having chili on Super Bowl Sunday, I was enjoying something a little different.  The red wine gave the ribs a rich, dark color and the vegetables absorbed all the lovely flavors.

Sunday dinner.

Obviously, the lesson learned today is things often don't go your way.  (I wrote the book on that one.)  You might plan something that breaks (a camera for blogging pictures, perhaps) or you might have a break from something you love (like running).  But you can't let it break you.  You have to look past the current setback and on to your successful future.

Life comes down on you hard sometimes and speed bumps are always going to pop up in an attempt to slow you down.  When a little time has passed, and you've gotten out your disappointment, move forward.  Start anew.  There are lots of good things still waiting for you.