The exotic side of Los Alamitos

Frieda Caplan has never been shy about trying new things. After all, she is the woman who in the 1960s found a fuzzy little green fruit and turned it into the global sensation called the kiwifruit. As a result of that and other discoveries, the purple “Frieda’s Finest” sticker quickly became ubiquitous in supermarket produce departments. This summer, along with daughter Karen Caplan, who is running their company now, Frieda (pictured) has launched her own version of a farmers market at the Los Alamitos headquarters of the national wholesale produce company. They’re careful to call it a “Fresh Marketplace,” not a farmers market, but you can recognize the trappings: tables under tents, cooking demonstrations and a jazz band.

There are some pretty interesting things to taste, as well, all of them coming from Frieda’s warehouse. In addition to the by-now-expected farmers market fare of shallots, fingerling potatoes, fresh herbs and heirloom tomatoes, there are fresh and dried chiles, tomatillos and jicama from Frieda’s line of Latin products. And of course there are exotic tropical fruits: three kinds of bananas, different varieties of mangoes and papayas, kiwano, rambutan, feijoa, cherimoya and — wouldn’t you know it, kiwis — both green and golden. There are even farmers — last weekend’s was Mark Maggiore from Brentwood, a Frieda’s supplier who brought in corn and sugar-sweet white apricots called Angelcots.

And, of course, there’s the irrepressible Frieda herself, still marketing at more than 80 years old, parked under an umbrella and signing copies of her “Purple Kiwi Cookbook” for anyone who wants one.

Frieda’s Fresh Marketplace, 4465 Corporate Center Drive, Los Alamitos (Cerritos Street at Lexington Drive). Saturdays 8 a.m. to 1 p.m. through July 26.

-- Russ Parsons

Photo by Russ Parsons

Benefit-dinner shooters

Last night was the second annual Celebrate the Market benefit dinner, held at the Fairmont Miramar Hotel in Santa Monica to benefit the Southland Farmers' Market Assn.  Nineteen prominent local chefs set up food stations.  Midway through the polite noshing, farmer John Tenerelli of Tenerelli Orchards and Chef Josie Le Balch of Josie Restaurant were both honored; cookbook authors Evan Kleiman and Anne Willan presented.  It was a rather staid affair, given the nature of auctions and hotel ballrooms.  But the company (Spago pastry chef Sherry Yard and her new husband helmed a dessert table) and the food were terrific. 

At right was the most elaborate: a shrimp and oyster cocktail shooter from Melisse chef Josiah Citrin.  Through the gleaming funnel went Japanese green tomato water, into individual glass cups rimmed with celery salt.  Inside the cups?  Shrimp and Luna oysters from Carlsbad Aquafarm, Tabasco pearls, cucumber granita.  The little skewers -- the "chaser" to the shooter -- were tiny profiteroles filled with avocado mousse.  (Citrin is not known for his minimalism.)  The 18 stations that followed, which included an amazing corn flan from Grace chef Neal Fraser and a confit of pork belly appetizer by former Leatherby's Cafe Rouge chef Mark Gold -- set to open Eva soon in Sherman Oaks -- were pretty fun too.  Although not as much fun as crashing the hotel pool afterward would have been.  Maybe they could auction that next year...

-- Amy Scattergood

Photo by Amy Scattergood

Denio's Farmers Market and the Roseville Livestock Auction

I was up in Sacramento recently visiting the in-laws and decided to check out Denio's Farmers Market and Swap Meet in nearby Roseville. The market, open since 1947, sits near Roseville's rail yard, a historically significant transport hub for agriculture from the Central Valley.

Denio's is a massive marketplace -- sprawling almost 70 acres -- with aisles and aisles of fresh produce and local food products. You name it: tons of fresh fruits and vegetables (I sampled my first fresh cherries of the season), local honeys (I loved the blackberry) and cured olives, as well as stands carrying vegetable plants and herbs for the garden. The swap meet component (by far the larger part of the operation) contains everything from clothing and antiques to tools, machinery and parts for almost anything. (Need a part for your John Deere? Odds are you'll find it.)

Across the street from the market, you'll find the Roseville Livestock Auction. The bidding starts at 9:30 every Saturday morning for general livestock, including pigs, goats and sheep. (The cattle auction starts at 12:30.) The facility auctions poultry on the first and third Sundays of the month; horses and tack the second Saturday of the month.

If you're like me and fantasize about the farming life, it's a great place to go. You can score some tomato plants for your garden along with your dinner vegetables, or go crazy and buy a chicken or two. Now I know where to get that pet pig I've always wanted...

-- Noelle Carter

Photos by Noelle Carter

The season's first cherries

There are certain seasonal signals -- the first pitch of opening day, the smell of outside grilling after the rainy season -- that have a particular resonance, a mnemonic depth that carries beyond games, food, weather.  Add the year's first cherries to that happy list.  At this morning's Santa Monica Farmer's Market, the crowd at the cherry stand was so thick you'd think Barack Obama himself was handing out the Brooks cherries, in stunning shades of vermillion, loaded in plastic tubs like marbles.   

Now that you think about it, maybe a good old-fashioned cherry pie would be the perfect way to get those Super Delegates in line. 

Brooks cherries, $4 to $6 for a small or large container, from Erickson Farms. 

-- Amy Scattergood

Photos by Amy Scattergood

Libation, prayer and wild gulf shrimp

OK, granted that when visiting New Orleans, farmers markets do not rank high on most tourists' list of "must-dos." (My cab from the airport was stenciled with "Libation and Prayer Solve All Problems," and judging from the crowds in the French Quarter, most folks were putting their faith in the first option.) But still, a sunny Saturday morning and having taken on board a fresh load of debris and grits and meat biscuits from Mothers, it seemed like a fine thing to do.

It's still a little early in the growing season in Louisiana and the Crescent City Farmers Market at Magazine and Girod streets was pretty tiny. But it was packed with happy people who didn't seem to mind at all that the selection might have been a little limited. There were tomatoes, chard, beautiful spring onions labeled "Vidalia-like" and even fava beans and some navel oranges from Plaquemines Parish. But the big draw was strawberries. Louisiana strawberries have a legendary reputation, but a food snob couldn't help but notice that these were Camarosas, the standard commercial variety for California. They were pretty sweet, though, even if fairly firm.

The highlights of the market for me were the things we can't get in California -- foremost among them pristine wild-caught white shrimp, heads on and fresh from the gulf. Heck, I would have settled for that beautifully briny water they'd been transported in. Silky Creole cream cheese also had people lined up. And there was even a guy selling beef. What breed, one woman asked. "Oh you know, it's just some old piney woods cow," was the answer. Thus persuaded, she bought some.

-- Russ Parsons

Photo by Russ Parsons

Farm store at Cal Poly Pomona

I happened upon the farm store at Cal Poly Pomona the other weekend and picked up a bunch of citrus and avocados grown right there on campus, in the middle of its AGRIscape project -- 40 acres that showcase farming and urban landscaping practices that are sustainable. (You have to love a store where the parking lot dividers are filled with mint.)

In the store, you'll find Cal Poly Pomona's avocados (Bacon, Fuerte, Zutano), Algerian tangerines (I love them -- sweet and floral), lemons, oranges and orange juice, pummelos and grapefruit (Oro Blanco, Frua), squash, onion, broccoli, cabbage. Even their own beef, pork, sausage and jerky from the cows and pigs raised at the Meat Science facility (a USDA-inspected plant) on campus. Oh, and there's a big vat of their own buckwheat honey, from which you can fill your own bottles. (Also: Pick your own strawberries through May.)

Cal Poly Pomona Farm Store, 4102 S. University Drive, just south of Temple Ave., Pomona. (909) 869-4906, Sunday to Friday 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. and Saturday 8 a.m. to 6 p.m.

-- Betty Hallock

Photo by Betty Hallock

Lilacs at the farmers market

When lilacs last in the dooryard bloomed, to quote Whitman, it was about this time last year.  But it still came as a glorious surprise to see (and smell) the boughs of flowers at the Santa Monica farmers market yesterday. Intensely purple, gloriously perfumey, the stunning blossoms are an instant mnemonic device for some of us (trees, Iowa).  These are from Weiser Family Farms, where they'll continue to have the flowers (weather permitting) until about Mother's Day.  The folks at Weiser, by the way, advise hammering the stems and putting ice into the vase water.

And lilacs aren't just for gracing your kitchen table.  Keep an eye on the menu at Joe's
Restaurant in Venice, where chef Joe Miller (who gets his flowers from Alex Weiser too) likes to make lilac ice cream this time of year.  His recipe is fairly simple (I made it two years ago): Miller infuses a basic creme anglaise with carefully washed lilac blossoms, lets the mixture steep overnight, then strains it before putting it in an ice cream machine. VERY yummy, and utterly gorgeous -- especially strewn with a few fresh flowers.  Enjoy while reading "Leaves of Grass."

Lilacs, available from Weiser Family Farms, $10 a large bunch; also from Windrose Farms, $1 a flower. 

-- Amy Scattergood

Photo by Amy Scattergood

Curry leaves

For some reason I've been thinking about curries lately, and thus about curry leaves.  Although most curries aren't made with the fresh leaves, I wanted to make one that was.  So Wednesday morning I was overjoyed to find, amid the tabled garden that is Bill Coleman's stall at the Santa Monica farmers market, bags of fresh curry leaves.  They're pretty things, like tiny bay leaves, feathered on a branch; according to Alan Davidson's "Penguin Companion to Food," the curry tree belongs to the Rutaceae family, the same family to which citrus fruits belong.  And the leaves don't smell like curry powder (it being a combination of many spices), but more like faintly spicy green peppercorns. 

Where to look for a recipe?  "Mangoes & Curry Leaves," by Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid (Artisan; 2005) seemed the logical answer.  (Jamie Oliver also calls for them often in his cookbooks.) Among the 23 recipes in their book that use curry leaves was this one (pictured above) for green tomato curry.  It was pretty simple: Just cook 1/2 cup chopped onion, 2 minced green chiles and about 8 curry leaves in a little oil, then add a teaspoon of bonito flakes, 1/4 teaspoon ground fenugreek, a pinch of turmeric, 1 pound chopped green tomatoes and 2 teaspoons salt, and cook for 15 minutes.  Add 3/4 cup coconut milk and reduce.  Done.  Perfect with a pot of rice and grilled lamb or fish kebabs -- which is just what I'm going to cook for dinner.

Curry leaves, $1.50 for a small plastic bag (about 1/2 ounce), from Coleman Family Farms. Curry leaves can also be found at India Sweets and Spices in Atwater Village $1 a bag.

-- Amy Scattergood

Photo by Amy Scattergood

A tale of two markets

There is something wonderful about almost every farmers market, but there is something especially grand about markets that are located in farming areas. Maybe it’s the special sense of connection when you’re buying from your neighbors. Maybe it’s just that the farmers are friendlier because they haven’t had to drive four hours to get there. Whatever the reason it’s true in spades at the Davis Farmers Market every Saturday morning, located in the heart of what is almost certainly the best-educated agricultural area in the state, if not the country. Not only is the Sacramento River valley rich in farmland, the University of California at Davis is one of the nation’s leading centers of agricultural research. (The ag joke is that if you want to study farming, go to Davis; if you want to farm, go someplace else: San Luis Obispo, Fresno State or UC Riverside.)

There are two weekly markets at the town square in Davis: the Wednesday evening market is a little slow right now but will pick up as the weather warms and it once again becomes a combination of farmers market and community picnic. The Saturday market is always great. Last weekend just happened to be National Pig Day. (Don’t ask … nobody involved seemed to know what that meant, but they celebrate it anyway.) And so in addition to the cool-weather crops you’d expect (this part of the state seems to be about two to three weeks behind Southern California in terms of seasonality), there was a wide range of things porcine — including pig suckers made by a local bakery. (Though the idea of bacon on a stick is certainly appealing, these were made of bread dough made to look like a piggy face.) There were also real little pigs for the kids to pet and lots of grownups dressed up in costumes. There’s not much room for sentiment in farm country, so there was still a line at pork farmers Dan and John Bledsoe’s stand. And floating over the crowd was the lovely scent of frying bacon from the pancake breakfast sponsored by the local food bank.

While Saturday’s Davis market is college town-bucolic, the Sunday market in Sacramento is anything but. In fact, to be perfectly honest, it more resembles a homeless encampment than a farmers market. Held underneath an overpass of the 5 Freeway, its scruffy appearance hides a heart of gold. Or, to be more literal, a heart of Mellogold and Oroblanco pomelos, all kinds of mandarins and Navel oranges, Sacramento Delta asparagus, Point Reyes oysters, Dungeness crab, native plants, Pedroza Dairy cheeses, Baridini olive oil and a wealth of Asian produce. (The market is very popular with Hmong farmers from the valley.) At this time of year, their harvest is pretty much limited to different kinds of mustards and other hardy greens, but one vendor had Thai bird chiles still on their stems, looking like a very spicy bouquet.

Davis farmers markets are held Wednesdays from 2 to 6 p.m. (changing to 4:30 to 8:30 p.m. this week) and Saturdays 8 a.m. to 1 p.m. at 4th and C streets.

There are 10 farmers markets in Sacramento; the freeway market is Sundays from 8 a.m. until noon at 8th and W streets.

-- Russ Parsons

Photos by Russ Parsons

Miner's lettuce

At the Wednesday Santa Monica farmers market last week, under a low marine layer that made everyone clutch their coffee cups that much tighter, James Birch of Florabella Farms had an overflowing crate of gorgeous greens sitting out on his table. The greens were next to a small mountain of breakfast and plum radishes and a thatch of rapini -- the stinging nettles had been snapped up by chefs earlier -- and were, at least to me, quite unidentifiable. They looked like a particularly verdant and fleshy kind of nasturtium.

"It's miner's lettuce," explained Birch. The plant, which is in the purslane family, was named for the Sierra Nevada gold miners who used to eat it in the early spring, when it finally appeared after the difficult winters, to prevent scurvy.

It's gorgeous stuff, but what to do with it?  A few stalls down, Campanile chef Mark Peel -- who had just picked some up from Birch -- supplied the answer. A salad, said Peel, of miner's lettuce, toasted and crushed walnuts, crumbled Stilton cheese, a simple lemon-honey-mustard vinaigrette and some snipped chives. "Five ingredients, 10 minutes," pronounced Peel.  Well, five unless you count the vinaigrette ingredients, he allowed, but still, that's pretty simple.  It was. Utterly delicious and very pretty too (see the picture at left). Birch has been bringing miner's lettuce to the Wednesday and Saturday Santa Monica markets every spring for years. "As long as we keep getting some rain, it'll keep going for the next month or so," said Birch. "This is the kind of weather it likes a lot."

Miner's lettuce, $5 per lb. from Florabella Farms.

-- Amy Scattergood

Photos by Amy Scattergood

Winter, Seattle farmers markets

A recent Saturday in Seattle was cold enough to require hats, gloves and silk long johns, but we decided to go to the U-District outdoor farmers market anyway. In the summertime it’s spilling over with fresh flowers, berries and vegetables. In February, it’s smaller, but still has some terrific vendors selling some very different things than we find in L.A. One stand sells clams and oysters from up the coast. A sturdy woman in a hand-knit sweater offers various cuts of goat meat, but she’s not getting many takers.

The enticing smell of bacon frying wafts around the corner. I follow it to a stand with a sign for “wooly pigs.” A photo shows a rotund animal covered in a curly pelt. “It’s a special breed from Europe called Mangalitsa,” the man behind the counter tells me, “and we raise it just like they do there.”

The bacon is incredibly delicious, but what caught my eye is the sign for leaf lard for $2 a pound. Coming from these pigs, which are sold to top restaurants in Seattle, it’s got to be great. However, it only comes frozen in 10-pound bags. I could just picture myself trying to explain to an overzealous airport security officer why I was hauling 10 pounds of fat onto the plane with me, so I decided, no, not this time. I haven’t given up on the idea though. You can read about wooly pigs at Wooly Pigs founder Jess Thompson's blog.

For more on the farmers market (and Rolling Fire Pizza), see the jump.

-- S. Irene Virbila

Meyer lemon footnote: Recipes

Of my catalogue of "100 Things to Do With Meyer Lemons" in today's Food section, a few items referred to recipes from cookbooks. Here they are, accompanied by a picture of the preserved Meyer lemons (No. 11) that I made for friends for Christmas this year. (Polito Family Farms Meyers, with spices.)

No. 10. Claudia Roden's orange-almond cake, from "The New Book of Middle Eastern Food." Note: the original recipe calls for two large oranges; I substituted Meyer lemons.

2 large Meyer lemons                                                                  

6 eggs

250 g. (8 oz.) ground almonds or almond flour

250 g. (8 oz.) sugar

1 teaspoon baking powder

Butter and flour, for cake tin

Wash and boil the lemons (unpeeled) in a little water for nearly 2 hours. Let them cool, then cut them open and remove the pips. Turn the lemons into a pulp by rubbing them through a sieve or by putting them in an electric blender. Beat the eggs in a large bowl. Add all the other ingredients, mix thoroughly and pour into a buttered and floured cake tin, preferably one with a removable bottom. Bake in a moderately hot oven (190C/375F) for about 1 hour. If the cake is still very wet, leave it in the oven for a little longer. Cool in the tin before turning out. (I served this with Chantilly cream flavored with Meyer lemon peel, No. 12.)

No. 25, Suzanne Goin's Meyer lemon salsa, from "Sunday Suppers at Lucques."

2 to 3 large Meyer lemons

2 tablespoons finely diced shallots

1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil

1 teaspoon minced savory (you can substitute fresh marjoram)

1 tablespoon sliced mint

2 tablespoons chopped flat-leaf parsley

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Cut both ends off the lemons. Place the lemons cut side down on a cutting board. Following the contour of the fruit with your knife, remove the peel and white cottony pith, working from top to bottom and rotating the fruit as you go. Then, one at a time, hold each lemon in your hand and carefully slice between the membranes and the fruit to release the segments in between.  Discard the seeds and reserve the juice. You should have about 1/4 cup of segments and 1/4 cup of juice. Place the lemon juice in a small bowl and add the shallots and 1/4 teaspoon salt. Let sit 5 minutes and slowly whisk in the olive oil. Stir in the lemon segments, savory, mint and parsley. Taste for balance and seasoning.

No. 87, Gennaro Esposito's recipe for sweet and sour lemon sauce, from Faith Willinger's book "Adventures of an Italian Food Lover."

For the candied zest:

2 Meyer lemons

1 orange

6 tablespoons coarse sea salt

1/2 cup wildflower honey

1 cup sugar

Peel the zest from two lemons in strips, leaving 1/4-inch pulp attached to the zest. Peel the orange the same way. Put the zests in a bowl, toss with 2 tablespoons salt, add 1 cup water, and weight down with a small plate to keep zests submerged for 1 to 2 hours. Rinse and drain. Bring 10 cups of water to a rolling boil, remove from heat and let zests cool completely in the salted water. Drain zests. Combine the honey, sugar and 2 1/4 cups of fresh water in a small pot and bring to a simmer. Add the drained zest and cook over lowest heat, less than a simmer, for 40 minutes. Remove from the heat and let zest cool in syrup overnight. The next day, bring the syrup back to a simmer, lower the heat, and cook for 1 hour. Remove from the heat and cool completely. Repeat the process one more time, cooking zest on the lowest heat for 30 minutes. Store zest in its syrup in a jar.

For the sauce:

3 1/2 Meyer lemons

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

1 garlic clove, peeled

1 tablespoon minced celery

Fine sea salt

White pepper

3 tablespoons chopped candied lemon zest

Trim three lemons with a knife, cutting the rind away down to the pulp. Section the lemon into wedges, cutting between the white connective membranes. Squeeze the juice from the remains of the lemons into a measuring cup and add the wedges. You should have about 1/2 cup. Squeeze the juice from the remaining 1/2 lemon and add it to the wedges. In a small saucepan, add the oil and saute the garlic and celery over medium heat until the celery barely begins to color. Add the lemon wedges and juice and cook, mashing the mixture with a wooden spoon, until the mixture is pulpy. Remove the garlic. Season the lemon mixture with salt and white pepper. If the sauce is too tart, add a spoonful or two of syrup from the candied zest. Transfer lemon mixture to a blender and add candied zest. Blend until smooth.

-- Amy Scattergood

Photo by Amy Scattergood

H is for hoshigaki

For the uninitiated, these odd little things --clothespinned to a line at Penryn Orchard Specialties' stall at Wednesday's Santa Monica farmers market -- are hoshigaki.  They're Hachiya persimmons that have been peeled, dried and hand-massaged using an old Japanese method.  Penryn's Jeff Rieger has been making hoshigaki for four years now, selling them around the holidays, along with fresh persimmons, mandarins, clementines, Asian pears and other fruit.  "It's an old Japanese food art," said Rieger as he enthusiastically described the process of air-drying the fruit, which is massaged both to stretch and smooth the exterior and to help bring the fructose to the outside to form the distinctive light coating of natural sugars.  Although some California farmers have been producing hoshigaki for decades, it's still a very specialized market.  Not so in Japan: My sister, who lives in Tokyo, e-mailed that she can buy them at her corner grocery.  (OK, I need to go visit her.)

They're furiously addictive: sweet, floral and faintly spicy, with hints of cinnamon and lemon.  A rich, dark orange in color with what looks like the faintest dusting of powdered sugar on the outside. Hoshigaki have an incredible texture -- tender, moist and dense, and not the slightest bit leathery.  Although you can dice them and add them to baked goods, Rieger suggests eating them plain, biting into them while holding the dried base of the stem, maybe with a demitasse of espresso.  He's right: Why mitigate the taste, or the highly pleasurable sensation of eating a whole one, slowly, while holding it delicately in your fingers? H is for happy too.

Hoshigaki, Penryn Orchards, Wednesdays at the Santa Monica farmers market, (916) 769-5462.  About $3 each, or $33 a pound; sold in boxes of nine (boxes range from slightly under a pound to almost a pound and a half).

-- Amy Scattergood

Photo by Amy Scattergood

Bar Pintxo open for business

Joe Miller's Spanish tapas bar, Bar Pintxo, opened yesterday at noon, providing respite from the light rain for the holiday shoppers at the nearby Santa Monica farmers market.  With high ceilings, high wooden tables and bar stools, walls lined with wines, chalkboard menus and a sushi-style case displaying the tapas, it's a very welcoming little (30-seat capacity) spot.  And if Miller has his way, it'll be a respite not only for shoppers but for the farmers too -- at least on market days, Wednesdays and Saturdays.  Miller was just in from shopping himself, grabbing a few tapas on his way back to the market, and said he wanted to encourage the farmers to stop by after they're done packing up. "I'd love to have them all come down for a glass of sangria," said Miller.  (It makes sense: Miller's 16-year-old Venice restaurant, Joe's, has always had a menu largely reliant on local produce.)

If not sangria, maybe slices of baguette topped with foie gras mousse, caramelized onions and pomegranate seeds; or cherry tomatoes stuffed with marinated tuna, garlic and parsley; or endive with Roquefort cream, anchovies and walnuts.  There were 15 tapas on the printed menu this afternoon, but Miller says that's just the beginning. 

Bar Pintxo, 109 Santa Monica Blvd., Santa Monica; (310) 458-2012.  Open noon to midnight, every day. (Website still under construction.)

-- Amy Scattergood

Photos by Amy Scattergood

Counting crosnes

The crosnes are back at Weiser Family Farms. But don’t count on being able to buy any until after the first of the year. Because of a very late, very small crop, the first harvest will be going only to restaurants, and even they will have to order them in advance to ensure getting any.

Little corkscrew-shaped tubers, crosnes are very popular among French chefs. Raw, they taste a little bland and crunchy — kind of like a miniature jicama. But they really shine when sautéed briefly, revealing a bittersweet edge that perfectly complements butter’s sweet, nutty flavor.

The Weisers planted them at the pleading of chef Alain Giraud, and last year's first harvest created quite a ruckus when it appeared at the Santa Monica farmers market in early October. This year's harvest is just now showing up. What happened?

So far, the Weisers are the only farmers in California —and one of only a handful in the nation — who are growing crosnes. So any ripple in their supply spreads quickly. And this year there was more than a ripple. First of all, Alex Weiser says, they concentrated the entire crop in their Lucerne Valley farm rather than spreading it into Tehachapi, which naturally made them somewhat later. And then there was this year’s extended warm fall. Since the crosnes form the edible tubers only when the plants start to go dormant, this delayed the crop even more.

And then there were the rabbits. While the Weisers were distracted harvesting an extremely abundant fall potato harvest in Lucerne, the little varmints dug under the fences around the crosnes field and feasted on the plants’ green tops, further delaying the forming of the tubers.

“I’m going to get a shirt made up that says ‘Farming Happens,’ ” says Weiser. “But I promise we’ll have them on time next year. I’ve already made plans. Of course, I say that every year.”

-- Russ Parsons

Photo by Wally Skalij

Expedition to orange country

The local orange season is upon us -- Valencias are in season and navels are about to come on line. Fifty years ago, Angelenos would drive out to the orange-growing parts of town and load up on oranges at farm stands. These days, the orange groves of the San Fernando Valley and Orange County have been replaced by housing tracts, but we still have a vigorous orange-growing district in the lower Santa Clarita Valley.

This is where you can take a nice drive in the country and come back with 20 pounds of oranges for $5 or $6. One time I bought a box of 100 Valencias for $9, which worked out to 33 tall glasses of fresh OJ at 27 cents a glass.

To get there, take Highway 126 west just north of Magic Mountain. Nine miles later, just past Piru (where the highway has taken on the name of Telegraph Road), you'll be surrounded by orange groves. There are four major produce stands in the next eight miles, all on the south side of the street.

Besides oranges, all the stands carry other local produce, such as avocados (yellow-speckled Zutanos and little blackish Pueblas, as well as the ubiquitous Hass and Fuerte), winter squashes (monstrous blue Hubbards, grotesque green bottle gourds, "fairytale" pumpkins that look just like Cinderella's carriage) and honey.

From east to west, the big stands are: Camulos Ranch, 5164 E. Telegraph Road, Piru, (805) 521-1561; J&R Fruits, 2852 E. Telegraph Road, Fillmore (no phone); Francisco's Fruit, 1762 E. Telegraph Road, Fillmore, (805) 524-4616; Cornejo's Produce Stand, 768 E. Telegraph Road, Fillmore, (805) 524-2776.

-- Charles Perry

Photo by Stephen Osman

Pepper roasting at the farmers market

Yesterday at the Santa Monica farmers market, market manager Laura Avery -- undeterred by the heat and the faint smoke blowing in from the north -- was roasting peppers.  "Don't worry, we got it approved by the Fire Department," she assured the folks who gathered around the giant roaster as the peppers began to char over the propane-fed flames. 

Avery, who picked up the roaster in Santa Fe, New Mexico --where outdoor pepper roasting is a kind of public sport -- has been roasting peppers since the beginning of September at the Saturday Pico market, but this was the first time she's done it on Wednesday. Today Laura (shown here with Ted Galvan, the Pico market manager) was roasting Tutti Frutti Farms' organic Anaheims and pasillas.  After five minutes of flame, the peppers came out, charred and unbelievably fragrant.  Laura's done roasting at the Pico market, but next Wednesday she'll have her roaster out again. 

Roasted peppers, $5 for a 2-pound bag.  Wednesday Santa Monica farmers market, 8:30 a.m.-1:30 p.m., Arizona Avenue and 2nd Street, Santa Monica. 

-- Amy Scattergood

Photo by Bill Johnson

'Bald' peanuts

The Food staff was just treated to an unexpected taste delight a few minutes ago when The Times' Health section editor, Tami Dennis, let us sample the boiled peanuts she made last night. It all started when Deputy Food Editor Susan LaTempa brought Tami back some green (i.e., uncooked) peanuts she found at the City Hall farmers market yesterday afternoon, at one of the stands selling Thai greens. Tami's from southeast Georgia, so Susan thought she might like to have her way with the peanuts.

Tami did indeed. She put about a pound of them in a big pot, added a half a cup of salt and a lot of water, boiled them (covered) for about two and a half hours, then let them sit in the water for another half an hour. Southerners say they're an "acquired taste," at least according to a "What's Cooking America" link Tami sent us, which includes history, a recipe and lore (like they're pronounced "bald" peanuts in the South). But if that's the case, we Food staffers acquired it immediately. They're fantastic! They have wonderful, gentle peanut flavor and a texture like a cooked garbanzo bean. Watch out! They squirt when you open them, and the shells are squishy.

Tami says it's hard to predict how long they'll need to boil; it depends on the size of the peanuts and how fresh they are. Just keep tasting them, she counsels, till you're happy with them.

-- Leslie Brenner

Photo by Leslie Brenner

Summer-into-fall with the California Cook

Autumn begins Sunday, and there's a chance there'll actually be a nip in the air. It definitely feels like a new season at the farmers market, with all the gorgeous peppers and eggplants and earthy, dark greens and apples and pears. Wondering how to treat them once you get them home? Log on to latimes.com for a live chat with Russ Parsons, the California Cook, at 1 p.m. Wondering which are the best varieties of winter squash? Ask Russ. What's the best way to roast peppers? Russ'll tell you. How to make a quick sauce with end-of-season tomatoes? Grill Russ. A delicious way to cook cavolo nero? Come on, brain . . . ask Russ!

Or maybe you don't care a straw about seasonal produce but you're dying to know the easiest way to shuck an oyster. Or deglaze a pan for a quick sauce. Or brine a pork chop. Or which three cookbooks he'd recommend that a beginning cook buy. Whatever it is you'd like to know about food and cooking, the California Cook's your man. Today at 1 p.m.

-- Leslie Brenner

Photo by Ricardo DeAratanha

Rooftop pepper drying

While browsing at Windrose Farm's stall at the Santa Monica farmers market last Wednesday, I found some amazing fresh cayenne peppers.  Just as I was trying to figure out what to do with them, Melisse chef Josiah Citrin happened by (yes, he's there every week).  So I asked him.  He said he dries them himself.  How?  Oh, in his dehydrator.  When I told him I didn't have one of those lying around, he suggested drying them on my roof. In Culver City?  No, said Citrin: too humid.  "You should do it on the roof of the Times building," said Citrin, smiling.  So that's where they are, drying in the dehydrating winds above the 12th floor, with a happy view of the downtown cityscape.  Maybe buildings where newspapers are published have their own terroir?

-- Amy Scattergood

Photo by Amy Scattergood

Strawberry fields forever ... or not

The fields -- and flats and pints -- don't, of course, last forever.  Peak strawberry season was over a few months ago, and most of the berries you find at farmers markets now are from up north, around Watsonville.  But as the summer comes to an end, I've been picking them up reflexively, compulsively, as unwilling to let go of the berries as I have been of summer.  However, last weekend's hot spell did a number on all of us -- and my various pints of strawberries.  The crop on the counter softened up too fast in the heat; the berries in the fridge, where I'd stowed some of them in desperation, threatened to lose their glorious flavor and texture.  We ate some on Greek yogurt and vanilla-spiked oatmeal, sliced others and napped them with cream, tossed still more into the freezer for the winter.  Then I took the rest and threw them into the blender and made a refreshing cold soup.  It was as if the essence of the strawberries had coalesced into my soup plate: The flavors -- and colors -- were remarkable.

All I did was slice 3 pints of ripe (some were slightly overripe) berries into a blender, add 2 tablespoons of sugar and allow it to macerate for half an hour there; then I added a splash of rosewater.  I blended the mixture on high for a minute, then poured the results into bowls.  My daughters added a few slices of extra strawberries, some fresh mint and -- their favorite part -- a rose petal from the kitchen table bouquet.  It was a fitting end, an homage if you will, to our last weekend of summer.

-- Amy Scattergood

Photo by Amy Scattergood

The SLO market

With college students returning for their first week of school, Thursday night’s San Luis Obispo farmers market was even wilder than usual.

Though serious-minded cooks may no longer rank it among the state’s best (there were only a couple of dozen farmers), it’s hard to be too begrudging of three solid blocks of good barbecue and bands and locals and tourists packed elbow to elbow.

And what produce there was was awfully good. Mike Cirone had apples and peaches from See Canyon. SLO Grown Produce had brightly colored peppers, tomatoes, cucumbers and herbs. Fife Farms had the most fragrant, sticky-sweet Muscat of Alexandria grapes you can imagine. If you’re going to be anywhere nearby, you should pay a visit.

San Luis Obispo downtown farmers market, Higuera Street, Thursdays, 6 p.m. to 9 p.m.

-- Russ Parsons

Photo by Russ Parsons

Tomato talk

With August's soaring temperatures comes a bonanza: fabulous summer produce -- especially tomatoes. Yesterday at the market, farmers displayed them like county fair prize specimens. Red ones, purple ones, yellow ones, fat ones, tiny ones, gigantic ones -- all looking plump and juicy and altogether irresistible.

So what's the difference between that striped green zebra and that purple and red brandywine? How do you choose the best ones? And what are the most delicious ways to make use of them when you get them in your kitchen? Is there an easy way to make a quick, cold summer soup?

Just ask the California Cook, Russ Parsons. He'll be talking tomatoes -- and zucchini and Romano beans and peaches and melons and anything else you want to know about -- during his live chat at 1 p.m. today at latimes.com.

-- Leslie Brenner

Photo by Robert Gauthier

What to do with those tiny potatoes

Every week it seems I see a new kind of potato at Weiser Family Farms' stall: Purple Peruvian, Red Thumb, Rose Finn or the lovely Peewee Russian Banana fingerlings I picked up last Friday at the Venice farmers market.  But what to do with them?  They were too pretty to mash, and I was tired of boiling potatoes.  Then I remembered the potatoes my garde-manger chef at culinary school used to make.  Every time we made duck confit, she would slowly brown halved potatoes in the extra rendered duck fat.  Sprinkled liberally with kosher salt or sometimes even fleur de sel, they were simple -- and about as delicious as a potato can be.  (I cooked mine in a covered cast-iron pan, over low heat, for about 40 minutes, turning them now and again for even cooking.)  Imagine French fries if they were truly French, cooked in a farmhouse in the Southwest, where duck fat is practically a condiment.  No wonder Johnny Depp relocated.

Peewee Russian Banana fingerling potatoes, $3.50 per pound from Weiser Family Farms.  Rendered duck fat, $12.99 for 2 lbs. at Surfas, 8824 National Blvd., Culver City; (310) 559-4770.

-- Amy Scattergood

Photo by Amy Scattergood

Chanterelles

The last day of a vacation during which I didn't want to set foot outside Southern California. What more fitting finale than a relaxed late-morning visit to the Santa Monica farmers market? The chanterelles at David West's mushroom stand were gorgeous, so I bought a bunch of tiny ones. Josiah Citrin was there, too, buying some for his restaurant, Mélisse (that's him shown in the photo). What was he planning to do with them? "Dover sole," he said, with corn, almonds, the chanterelles and brown butter. Sounds fantastic. "I do it every year," he pointed out.

As for me, I'll just sauté them with some shallots in a little butter, maybe swirl in a touch of crème fraîche, and toss it with fresh egg pasta. Or maybe fold them into an omelet.

-- Leslie Brenner

Photos by Leslie Brenner

Persian mulberries

Persian mulberry season lasts only a few heavenly weeks, but when it comes it's easy to find the astonishingly flavored, deep-purple berries: Just follow the crowds at the Wednesday Santa Monica farmers market.  Be prepared to scramble to get them, and to shell out as much as $10 for a little plastic box.  But it's worth it.  If you do get your hands on them -- and they'll only be around for another week or so -- you'll want to eat them as soon as you can.  (Not that this should be a problem.)  And to take a minimalist's approach.  At Lucques and Campanile, you'll find the berries accompanied only by a bowlful of cream.  Mélisse chef Josiah Citrin says he doesn't even put them on his menu; when he finds mulberries, he just takes them home and gives them to his kids.  If you do manage to get them home without eating them, just tumble the delicate, juicy berries into a bowl and top with a spoonful of crème fraîche whipped cream (crème fraîche lightened up with a little whipped cream). And plan on getting in line again next week.

Persian mulberries, $8 to $10 a box, from Garcia Organic Farm and Weiser Family Farms.

-- Amy Scattergood

Photo by Amy Scattergood

Goodbye, plastic bags

Plastic bags, almost as much a part of the farmers market experience as fresh fruits and vegetables, may be on their way out. California Certified Farmers Markets says that over the next year it'll be phasing out plastic bags in favor of paper at its 10 Southern California markets. But fear not for the trees -- these bags will be made from recycled paper from consumer and industrial uses. CCFM is a nonprofit that works with the group Raw Inspiration to manage markets at Century City, Larchmont, Melrose Place, Pacific Palisades, Brentwood, La Canada-Flintridge, Calabasas, Park View and two markets in downtown Los Angeles. Of course, the best choice is still the reusable canvas, mesh or string bags that have become a badge of honor for so many marketgoers.

-- Russ Parsons

Photo by Leslie Brenner

New farmers market

A new downtown farmers market opened today on 1st Street, right on the lawn next to City Hall.

Filling the stalls are heirloom tomatoes, plums and pluots, zucchini blossoms, eggplant, shishito peppers and bitter melons -- both Indian and Chinese (pictured at left) -- and prepared foods such as baba ghanouj, marinated gigante beans and brown-rice-stuffed grape leaves. For lunch? Rotisserie chicken (a lot of them rotating on huge spits), Hawaiian chicken, shish kebabs and pupusas.

The market formerly was located at Weller Court on Tuesdays. Now, you might be more likely to run into the mayor.

City Hall farmers market, Thursdays, 10 a.m. to 2 p.m., 1st and Spring streets.

-- Betty Hallock

Photo by Leslie Brenner

Peaches and wine

At long last, the moment I had been waiting for since last fall: great peaches. I was running late Wednesday morning but had a feeling I'd be missing something if I didn't stop at the Santa Monica farmers market. I headed straight for Fitz Kelley's stand (Fitzgerald's Premium Ripe Tree Fruit, right on the corner of 2nd and Arizona). There they were -- gorgeous. I leaned down and smelled them -- a good perfume, even this early in the season. I bought.

After dinner I did my very favorite thing with them, learned from my in-laws in southwest France. With some red wine left in my glass, I peeled one and sliced it right into the wine. I ate them with a spoon out of the wine glass. It's the best dessert in the world.

-- Leslie Brenner