All We Can Eat

Local-food cheerleader Edible Chesapeake has published its last issue.

In a note to readers, publisher Renee Brooks Catacalos said her decision to cease publication was based on how best to balance the needs of her family and the needs of the local food community.

"I was before and I still am an advocate of local foods and a lover of local foods," Catacalos told me. "The magazine was so all-encompassing that this season I barely had time to pick up my own CSA (community-supported agriculture) share and cook for my family. It was a little too much."

Catacalos took over as editor in spring 2007 and has published 11 quarterly issues. Highlights included a feature called "The Tale of Two Markets," which looked at food access issues at a time when the Anacostia farmers market closed and the Crossroads market in Takoma Park opened. The magazine also charted the rise of local grass-fed beef and profiled local food entrepreneurs such as Ned Atwater of Atwater's bakery. Edible Chesapeake printed 40,000 copies.

There is no official word on who, if anyone, will take over the Edible Chesapeake franchise. Sources say that that at least one local journalist has discussed the possibility of starting an Edible Washington quarterly with parent company Edible Communities. The Washington, Baltimore and Richmond areas all were included in Edible Chesapeake's official territory.

-- Jane Black

Early in the life of this cheese blog, a reader made a query about Liptauer cheese. I had never heard of it, but from its description — a savory cheese spread spiked with Hungarian paprika and caraway seeds, two of my favorite spices — I knew I wanted to learn more.

My small, usually helpful collection of cheese reference books had nothing about it, but online I found some good basic information. The cheese spread is named after the region of Lipto or Liptov, which once belonged to the Kingdom of Hungary and is now part of northern Slovakia.

My own version of the savory spread. (Domenica Marchetti)

"Lipto" also refers to a type of soft, unripened sheep’s-milk cheese produced in that area and used as a base for the spread. Apparently, it is similar to cream cheese, although a little more sour. Recipes for Liptauer cheese call for using a combination of cream cheese and sour cream, or cream cheese and cottage cheese or quark as a substitute. Most recipes also call for combining the cheese with softened butter.

At $13, it's a steal. (Dave McIntyre)

Wine lovers tend to frown upon Beaujolais Nouveau as a cynical marketing gimmick (I've done so myself.) But we really should think of it as a fun celebration of the recent harvest. It’s Thanksgiving time, after all, and what is the National Day of Gluttony if it isn’t a celebration of food and the recent harvest? That Nouveau comes on the market exactly one week before Turkey Day is all the more fitting. Think of it as Hands Across the Sea, Franco-American friendship at its best.

If you’d like to experience a Beaujolais Nouveau with some heft, the 2009 vintage is ideal. This was a terrific year in Burgundy and Beaujolais by all accounts, and even the simple, early drinking young Nouveaux will reflect the quality of the vintage.

My call this year is the Domaine de Vissoux Beaujolais Primeur 2009 from winemaker Pierre Chermette and importer Peter Weygandt. At $13, it’s an effusive, fruity wine that shouts fun and hints of great things to come from this vintage.

The wine is available in the District at the new Weygandt Wines store in Cleveland Park. The store opened just last month, and features about 450 selections that are imported by Weygandt under his Peter Weygandt Selections label. Wine lovers will recognize Weygandt is following a rare example – famed importer Kermit Lynch has a store in Berkeley, Calif., featuring his imports, and Neal Rosenthal transformed his retail operation into an importing business. But importer as retailer is still rare, and it’s exciting that Weygandt, who is based near Philadelphia, has decided to open a retail store in Washington.

More to come on this new entrant to the D.C. wine retail scene. For now, enjoy this delightful Beaujolais Nouveau – er, “primeur” – and celebrate the new harvest and the new entry into the local wine retail scene.

-- Dave McIntyre, Wine columnist for the Food section

Mushroom Lasagna Bolognese takes some time, but it's worth it. (Photo by Renee Comet/styled by Lisa Cherkasky for the Washington Post/)

The challenge of cooking vegetarian at Thanksgiving isn’t usually a lack of vegetable recipes. For this harvest-themed meal, it’s plenty easy to find dishes that feature seasonal produce. And if you’re able to stay clear of the everything-is-better-with-bacon philosophy, exemplified in the Best Brussels Sprouts Ever we featured in last week’s Food section, it’s not too hard to adapt anything to vegetarian (if not vegan) status. Vegetable broths can replace meat ones; nuts or other crunchy garnishes can replace those bacon bits, and so on.

The challenge is the main course, so that you avoid the collection-of-sides approach. Vegetarians deserve a centerpiece, too. I’m not serving a vegetarian repast this year, but for a few hours I pretended that I am, and scoured our Recipe Finder database and other sources for dishes that I would be proud to not just serve, but build a feast around.

Autumn in the vegetable plot at Green Spring Gardens. (Adrian Higgins/The Washington Post)

The importance of autumn as a growing season in the fruit and vegetable garden cannot be overstated. In the mid-Atlantic, it is our way to be Northern gardeners and to enjoy what our brethren in New England, or Old England for that matter, take for granted. That is, the capacity to grow cool season veggies to perfection.

Fennel is an excellent example. Valued for its anise-flavored, feathery foliage and bulb, it grows happily in colder climes. But as a spring plant here it will steadfastly refuse to form its coveted bulb. Spring offers a tight window. Because fennel is frost-sensitive, the gardener toils to start fennel from seed in early March and puts out the transplants in mid-April, hoping the spring will stay mild and tempered. But it does not. The heat arrives for a few days in May and that’s the end of it. The foliage is okay, sort of, but the swelling at the base of the plant simply doesn’t happen.

Oprah calling it quits and now this: A national shortage of Eggo waffles.

Will the shock and horror ever end?

Actually, it’s the second weird waffle news I’ve had to swallow this week. The other was the discovery of a spray can of organic waffle batter. A can o’ waffles! Could this be a good thing?

More on that in a moment.

First, the Kellogg kerfluffle: Evidently, the big K had to shut down its four frozen-waffle facilities recently, after the government found that pesky meningitis-causing bacteria listeria in a batch of the buttermilk Eggos.

But instead of this being a bad, hang-your-head-in-shame thing for Kellogg’s, the shortage has spawned a boatload of publicity and a rush on the frozen breakfast aisle in the local supermarket, as addicts of mediocre breakfast food stock up on their fave flavors. (Even Comedy Central’s Stephen Colbert is getting in on the act, calling for President Obama to open the strategic waffle reserves in the face of this national crisis.)

On Tuesday, we offered you some suggestions for pies, tarts and other desserts that would be great on the Thanksgiving table. Because you can never have too many sweets, here are a few more of our favorite recipes from years past. Find these and many, many others in our searchable Recipe Finder database.

Mama's Pecan Pie. (Terry Allen for The Washington Post)

Let's begin with a superstar: Mama's Pecan Pie, a recipe from chef Virginia Willis. Yes, we know you've tasted a lot of pecan pies. But the premise behind this one is sheer genius: The ratio of nuts to goo is much higher than usual, making for a nutty, chewy interior that's not gloppy or sickly-sweet. It does take a lot of chopping (each pie contains 1 1/2 cups of pecans, and they are cut up rather than left in halves) but it's worth the small amount of extra time. A ringing endorsement: Food editor Joe Yonan, who's from Texas, the land of pecan trees, says this is the best pecan pie he's ever had. Seriously.

Chestnut-Maple Cheesecake. (Julia Ewan/The Washington Post)

I think cheesecake is great any time of year, but this impressive Chestnut-Maple Cheesecake really fits the season. And believe me, it tastes terrific. The chestnut is a store-bought puree (no injured fingers from trying to pry the nuts open yourself). You make it in advance, of course, which is another fine attribute.

Please forgive me for adding Red Hots here as a spice. My editors made me do it.

Granny Smiths in a Blanket. (Monica Bhide)

I think this may be stretching it a bit, but I remembered seeing them used as a seasoning in “White Trash Gatherings: From-Scratch Cooking for Down-Home Entertaining” (Ten Speed Press, 2006) by Kendra Bailey Morris, and always wondered if other people used them as a seasoning, too.

I was right: Red Hots have a place in the pantry as a fun way to add some zip to your dish, particularly if you are cooking with apples.

But first, I had to do some digging to learn a bit more about these candies, which seem to show up in stores only around Valentine's Day. Made by Ferrara Pan Candy Co., the candies have a unique combination of strong cinnamon flavor and spicy heat. (The company offers a virtual tour of the process of making them, if you are interested.) The hard center melts easily when added to hot liquids, making these candies an interesting, useful seasoning for cooking or baking. (FYI, I looked at the ingredients list on the package of candies; the word "cinnamon" does not appear. Artificial flavorings and coloring and corn syrup are listed, however.)

Questions came fast and furious during yesterday's Free Range chat, so we'll try to answer some each day through Thanksgiving, starting with these two:

Washington, DC: I have a special holiday challenge: for medical reasons, I’ve been told to eat a low-carb diet, but at the same time, I’m supposed to gain weight. I’m finding it a challenge to cook foods -- especially holiday-friendly fare -- that are consistent with these two goals (and I’m really sick of eating almonds). Got any brilliant ideas for me, especially on desserts? (A delicious pumpkin custard, perhaps?) Thanks!

Berry Mousse. (Renee Comet for The Washington Post)

A challenge indeed. Cranberries and raspberries are in the low-carb fruit category, and both make for some spectacular desserts. I took a spin through our recipe database and found the following candidates, including a personal favorite of mine, Tiny Tim Cranberry Tarts (11 carbs per serving). They have three cranberries inside, surrounded by a cream-cheese pastry crust and a topping of nuts and brown sugar. I have made them for 20 years running. They are also individually sized, which is a good option for controlling carb or calorie intake at the holidays:

Berry Mousse. Only 6 carbs per serving.

Raspberry Goat Cheese Meringues. Also 6 carbs per serving.

You might also like Baked Ricotta Custards (10 carbs per serving), which taste much richer than they are. And there is this very British Victoria Sandwich Cake (28 carbs per serving, but you could cut smaller slices), with a layer of raspberry jam. Looks just right for the holidays.

More thanksgiving questions: I’m going to cook the stuffing on Wednesday and heat it Thursday after I take the Turkey out of the oven. At what temp and for how long should I do this? I also need to cook sliced sweet potatoes at 400 for 20 minutes post turkey, so can I do this while the stuffing is in the oven?

As long as it’s a fairly moist stuffing, wrap the baking dish/casserole it’s in with aluminum foil. It should reheat nicely during that 400-degree, 20-minute window for your cooked sliced sweet potatoes. But if the stuffing comes out of the fridge or freezer fairly crumbly to start with, you may want to sprinkle it with a little chicken broth or apple cider, or dot the surface with bits of unsalted butter, before reheating it.

If you want to reheat the stuffing separately, be sure to cover the stuffing with foil. Try 350 degrees (oven or toaster oven) for 20 to 30 minutes, checking after the first 15 minutes. You may need to use a fork to break it up to promote even heating.

-- Bonnie Benwick

Mary Curtis Simonds's recipe book. (Courtesy of Donald M. Simonds)

Recipes have changed over time -- and not just what ingredients or dishes are in style, but the format of recipes themselves.

A few years ago, I got a call from Donald M. Simonds, a reader who wondered whether I could make use of his mother's handwritten collection from the 1920s and '30s. I was curious to see them, even though at the time I didn't have a plan in mind. When I looked back at a personal collection from 80 years ago, I was struck by how much information used to be assumed and was therefore not transcribed.

Many of the recipes listed only ingredients and left it up to the cook to figure out pan size, technique, oven temperatures and baking times. These are things we've come to expect for any directions beyond a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. But back in the day, when people learned how to cook in real time from their relatives, this was knowledge communicated through experience rather than the written word. Directions might read "bake in a hot oven" or a knob of "butter the size of a walnut." Ovens didn't come with digital settings that differentiated between five-degree jumps and everyone knew what size a walnut was, so it seemed as reliable a measure as anything.