Cooking from the market

I’m an adventurous, opinionated, self-taught home cook who’s lucky enough to live in Oregon’s Willamette Valley.

Our growing season may not be long, but the bounty and variety of fresh, locally grown foods is unsurpassed. From April through November, I shop the local farmers’ markets and farm stands; the rest of the year, I make use of a big old freezer to extend the pleasure. Add proximity to the Pacific Ocean for things like wild Coho salmon and Dungeness crab, wild mushrooms free for the picking from the slopes of the Oregon Coast Range and Cascades, a growing number of local sources for organically reared beef, lamb and poultry, a smattering of terrific boutique cheese- and sausage-makers, and it’s like living in a little corner of foodie heaven.

I love eating, I love cooking and I love feeding my friends. I believe good food is one of life’s great sensory and social pleasures, and regret that our culture has burdened the whole question of food and eating with so many “shoulds” and “shouldn’ts.” Yes, I adore fresh produce, and at the height of the harvest season my cooking often approaches vegetarian because the fruits and vegetables I can buy (or occasionally grow) here are just so good. But I also love bacon and butter and cream and chocolate and wine and liquor and spices of all sorts. To my mind, food is not poison, nor is it medicine. It’s food, and it’s all good.

My approach to cooking is casual and improvisational. When I post a recipe, I’ll endeavor to write it as clearly and specifically as I can, but don’t be surprised to see measurements expressed in handfuls of this and dollops of that if the quantities aren’t critical.

If you can live with that, pull a stool up to the counter and join in. If you can’t take the heat, stay out of the kitchen.