SpiceLines

Lamb, flavored with saffron, ginger and paprika, simmered in white wine and
chicken stock for 4 hours, becomes tender and almost creamy--comfort food
for perilous times.

Comfort food is definitely in order.

The economy is tumbling into a deep freeze. The political parties are blistering each other as they disintegrate into little pieces. Even the soup companies are at war: (See “Mm-Mm Militant: Campbell Goes After Progresso” at Brandweek.)

It all makes me want to retreat into the kitchen and cook something delicious. Something that takes many hours and fills the house with delectable aromas, soothing my jangled nerves. ( Retail therapy helps: Yesterday I bought a Jessica Kagan Cushman bracelet that says: Keep Calm and Carry On.)

But back to the kitchen: You heard about Hich Elbetri and his luscious Moroccan braised goat in my last post. For most of us, procuring, butchering and cooking a 90-pound goat is going to be tough. (I mean difficult—the meat was divinely tender.) So I asked Hich if he could adapt his recipe for lamb. His dark eyes lit up as he reeled off an enticing list of ingredients and somewhat impressionistic cooking instructions. “Great food. I’m stoked,” he wrote in a email a few days later.

This untraditional harissa is made of roasted chiles, including Italian sweet peppers
as well as hot cayenne and poblanos, pureed with tomato, garlic and spices.

Lately I’m on a Moroccan kick.

Maybe it’s the suddenly shivery evenings, or talking with Hich about Moroccan spices, but right now I’m craving savory braised lamb, chicken tagine with green olives, carrots and preserved lemon, and couscous with autumn vegetables such as pumpkin, small red potatoes and turnips.

These delicately spiced dishes kick into high gear when served with a dollop of harissa, the classic North African chile paste.

Autumn bounty: Sun-ripened sweet red Italian peppers from Wild Hare Farm at
the Carrboro Farmer's Market.

If you’re a foodie, central North Carolina is the place to be.

Farmer’s markets are thronged with shoppers stuffing their baskets with gorgeous seasonal produce, heritage breed meats, artisan cheeses, locally made wines and breads made from home-grown, hand-milled grains. Restaurants are thriving, winning national kudos for market driven menus starring Cane Creek pork, Fickle Creek eggs and Chapel Hill Creamery cheeses. The near-ravenous craving for local fare is fueled by our amazing small farmers—over 120 within a 50-mile radius of Chapel Hill—who’ve increasingly turned to the sustainable production of heirloom fruits and vegetables and heritage breed livestock.

To read about our farmer’s markets, converse with chefs like Andrea Reusing at The Lantern, and try delicious recipes, see the following posts:

This October, soothe your battered spirits with a luscious Moroccan tagine
composed of butternut squash, new potatoes, carrots, turnips and mushrooms,
simmered with preserved lemon peel and sweet spices.

I ate lots of delicious food in Santa Fe last summer.

But after some thought, I’ve decided that it wasn’t the braised organic lamb from Aqua Santa, or the succulent pork spareribs with homemade harissa from La Boca that won my heart—or palate.

No, it was the lush Moroccan Vegetable Stew from Harry’s Roadhouse, a laid back eatery on the Old Las Vegas Highway. I’m in good company. Practically everyone else in Santa Fe loves it too.

Succulent fried chicken, fresh out of the deep fat fryer, at Castle Rock Gardens.

I love eating good food in good company for a good cause.

Last Sunday, B and I had supper at Castle Rock Gardens, a small farm a few miles from Pittsboro in central North Carolina. There were about 60 of us, actually, there to help send the farmers, Ristin Cooks and Patrick Walsh, to Terra Madre, the annual Slow Food convention that’s meeting in Turin, Italy next week.

Dinner was a knock out. But first things first:

As we wound our way down a narrow dirt road and circled the barn, we came upon some chickens, lots and lots of them: Rhode Island Reds, Buff Orpintgtons, Barred Rocks and more, preening and strutting, ruffling their glossy, tufted feathers, scratching in the dust, tussling with leaves of wilted lettuce, conversing in alluring, throaty sounds that hovered between coos and clucks.

Caldo tlalpeno is a savory chicken vegetable soup flavored with smoky chipotle
chiles, avocado and lime. It is enriched with sauteed rice and a few chickpeas.

It’s 9:34 AM and I’m tucking into my second plate of breakfast tacos—eggs scrambled with chilaquiles, or fried tortilla strips, topped with shreds of queso blanco. I’ve already demolished the papas rancheras—chunks of potato sautéed with bits of chorizo, tomato, onion and peppers, sweet red ones and green serranos.

That both tacos are wrapped up in thick corn tortillas, made on a press right there in the kitchen, charred on a comal, and that the fillings are sizzled on the same griddle as the bacon and sausage, only adds to the forbidden pleasure: a lot of starch, a little grease and the searing heat of the chiles.

San Antonio seems to have a breakfast taco joint on every block. Most turn out a decent if not exceptional product. But today I’m in happy land, sitting in the Fajita Taco Place on McCullough Avenue, not too far from the airport. The place is thronged with hungry people on their way to work: painters in spattered Ts and cargo shorts, girls in uniforms of black shirts and khaki pants, a sleepy-eyed brunette in sequined denim hot pants and a halter top, pink cellphone at the ready.

Matthew Shepherd's chocolate Buddhas, scented with aromatic orange peel and
ginger, are an offbeat Halloween treat for favored pranksters.

Chocolate skulls. Chocolate ghosts. Chocolate pumpkins.

But why go for the obvious?

Around here certain Halloween goblins will get Matthew Shepherd’s chocolate Buddhas when they come to call. These plump little guys are perfect for Halloween—an eerie greenish hue on the outside, but on the inside there’s a treat: dark chocolate flavored with bits of candied ginger and aromatic orange peel.

Matthew, who trained as a perfumer as well as a chocolatier, points out another advantage: “You can rub the Buddha’s tummy for luck.”

A good thought for the last, surely unlamented, days of October, 2008.

Matthew’s Chocolates, 107 North Churton Street, Hillsborough, NC 27278. Phone: 919/732-0900.