2019 | No. 104

Books: Shorts

By Edward Behr

John and Sukey Jamison, who raise lamb in western Pennsylvania [see AoE 53], were some of the first North American farmers in modern times to deliver their product directly to the kitchen of a chef. John tells their story in Coyotes in the Pasture and Wolves at the Door (Word Association, softcover, $35), published last year, with 25 recipes by Sukey and photographs by Christopher Hersheimer. The Jamisons, children of the 1960s, began farming in 1985. The pastures in their section of western Pennsylvania are as high in protein as grain is, and the fields give as many as five cuttings of hay a year. It’s a terroir for lamb. A turning point came early on when they dropped off three lambs at the Washington, D.C., restaurant of the influential chef Jean-Louis Palladin (who died in 2001): “He told me how old he thought the lambs were; he was correct within three days. He could tell by the color of the meat and the amount of kidney fat.” Theirs is not strong, red-fleshed, grain-finished, tallowy lamb but a milder, paler meat with a seasonal flavor, according to the plants then dominant in the pasture. They have their own slaughterhouse; they control everything, avoiding cold-shortening and ensuring tenderness. Years ago the farm grew to 212 acres, a needed scale, but even with chefs and direct retail sales the financial struggle never seemed to end. Finally, not so long ago, they sold the property’s mineral rights and development rights (and what does that say about our American agriculture?). Now they can just farm.

 

Ed Levine once wrote that “at best Chicago pizza is a good casserole”; in his new autobiographical Serious Eater (Portfolio/Penguin, hardcover, $27), when someone asks, “Where can I find the best Chicago pizza?” he’s ready with Burt’s Place, which is “like a focaccia with cheese baked into the magically caramelized crust.” New York City street food, pizza first of all, is where he started and where his heart lies. The new book, however, is about his creation of Serious Eats, the website and blog (if that word still has meaning). Among other accomplishments, it launched J. Kenji López-Alt, known for highly influential, accessible articles and recipes driven by science. Levine conveys the tension between a start-up, driven by one person with a vision, and a lasting success, supported by corporate capital and management. As with the story of the Jamisons’ farm, there’s a lot about financing and everything repeatedly hanging in the balance. Levine’s likeable personality carries you through. Serious Eats finally arrived at a secure spot when it was acquired in 2016 by Fexy Media. Levine remains its animating force. After the decline of print food magazines, all this bears on what possibilities there will be in the future for new approaches and innovation.

With its likely African origin, okra is loved especially in Africa as well as in southern parts of Asia, the southern United States, and certain other places; in much of the world, however, the vegetable pods are hardly known. Chris Smith, originally from the UK and now living in Asheville, North Carolina, came to okra as an outsider, but he brings a high-energy, youthful enthusiasm and an utter appreciation to The Whole Okra (Chelsea Green, softcover, $29.95). This must be the least dry, meaning not dry at all, of thorough-going books, and there are lots of color photos. In the US, okra is perhaps best-known for its frequent textural role in gumbo (gombo is the Bantu word for “okra”). Texture is of course the newcomer’s obstacle to liking okra, and Smith hits it head on: “It always comes back to slime,” he writes. “According to my I-want-to-talk-to-you-about-okra research, grilled okra comes up as the number one okra converter.” It’s the bit of char and the recipe’s lime and spice that does it. Okra can also be fried, pickled, dehydrated, fermented, dressed raw in salad, you name it, and you can eat the young leaves, raise the microgreens for salad, and the dried flowers make an infusion (a drink known in China). Fifteen recipes, mostly from chefs, appear in the book. Okra also happens to a drought-tolerant crop suited to the era of climate change, and a photo shows pods of each of 60 varieties that Smith grew to compare (seven of the pods are not green but red), although disappointingly he doesn’t make recommendations. This is a book for a chef, a gardener, and a curious amateur. ●

From issue 104

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