Clean meat, mystery meat

Yesterday I had the unusual experience of seeing the path two different meats--one lamb, one beef-- travelled on their way from the slaughterhouse to market. The two businesses must be at the farthest ends of the spectrum of food safety and traceability. Opposite ends.

I am chef de cuisine at a restaurant that purchases whole lambs from Cattail Creek lamb, with pastures in the Willamette Valley. Yesterday we received a 65# whole lamb, just like we do every Wednesday. Two hours after it arrived Nick butchered it, cutting rosy chops rimmed with a band of clean white fat. The meat fairly sparkled, evidence of its freshness.

Later, at home, I read a story in the New York Times was about an e.coli outbreak in 2007 traced to hamburgers mixed and sold by Cargill. Among the victims was a 22 year old woman whose reaction to the e.coli was so severe that she developed permanent paralysis.

At the top of the ingredient list in the Cargill burgers was simply "beef." Yet that was not the whole story. Cargill purchased trim from multiple sources, including a plant that takes fatty trim, warms it, centrifuges off the fat, treats what remains with amonia, and repackages it as lean beef product. That ground burger meat was a geographic mish mash, too. Logs show it contained beef from Texas, Nebraska, South Dakota and Uruguay. It's unclear which plant was the source of the e.coli outbreak.

My head swam as I read this account, which attempted to trace the path of the e.coli.
My point is not simply to share a horrifying story about unsafe food. Rather, read this article to understand the makings of the hamburgers we serve nationwide in fast food joints, schools and retirement communities.

I know most people would consider it atypical to be able to cook fresh meat like the lamb from Cattail Creek, which I have seen grazing on ample acreage of lush, green grass. Yes, safety first, especially in food. But what I love about Cattail Creek lamb is how rich and herbal it tastes. I don't have to worry about whether it's safe. That's the kind of traceability I wish for all our food.

Ingredients

Have you heard about Ingredients, the new Oregon-centric food documentary? Last weekend I saw it at its Portland premier--ok, I am in the movie, but I don't say anything--and walked out of the theater with a warm, fuzzy feeling. This makes sense. What I'm hearing from people who have seen Ingredients is that it's so positive compared to Food, Inc., and the like, and it doesn't get you down. The cinematography is gorgeous and bright, and the vibe is hopeful.

Eventually Ingredients will air on public television. Right now it's making the film festival circuit, so expect to hear more about it.

My husband is normally a dyed-in-the-wool cynic. But he bought a DVD of Ingredients to lend to friends and family, especially our friend who complains about the prices at the King Farmers Market. It's a fair question that our friend raises, "Why does local food cost more? Shouldn't it actually cost less?" Hopefully, after watching Ingredients he'll have a sense of just what you get for your farmers market dollars. Going to the farmers market isn't just shopping for dinner, it's a way to vote for flavor and health. As Carol Boutard of Ayers Creek Farm says in Ingredients (I'll paraphrase): it's not gluttony to expect your food to taste good.

Depending on your perch in life, you identify certain things that unite people. I'm at the King Farmers Market in September--cooking, teaching and talking with shoppers every Sunday. From my vantage point—a sweet little booth with a stove and a floral pink table cloth—it looks like the following thoughts are skittering across the minds of Portlanders everywhere:

1. What's the deal with eggplant? The eggplant I had at (choose venue) my grandmother's house/that Middle Eastern restaurant that closed/the food cart downtown was divine. Why isn't mine as good? Do you really have to salt it before cooking?
2. Where's the next idea for what to do with all that zucchini? Idea, please hurry.
   
3. My sister/boyfriend/roomate/boss (or substitute appropriate relationship) hates them, but I love beets. Any beet recipe you put in front of me, I will happily try.

I like these thoughts because I have them, too. Often. So much so that I have arrived at answers! Please come visit me and my fun, friendly guest chefs at King Farmers Market on the 20th and the 27th and we'll talk about the practical how-to's and inspirations of farmers market shopping and cooking.

And if you can't make it, check out marketchefs.com, where you can find recipes for corn zucchini fritters and beets and their greens with Greek yogurt sauce. And more. Stay tuned.