Is it possible to be simultaneously entertained and challenged by a work relationship?
For seven years at Kroger in Cincinnati, the audit manager I worked for - a Minnesotan - beguiled me with his wry, clever way of presenting a point - and launching projects.
Tom thrived in the corporate world, and I was his fledgling, flapping about in a very highly constructed environment I would later recognize as not a career path for me. Every project - business or personal-professional - had its introduction as ours.
The consummate professional auditor, Tom was the person I learned the most from in my early business days, though from time to time I thought one of us might kill the other. His insight into corporate management, auditing, manufacturing and retailing was both broad and deep. A challenging relationship that was unyielding, growth oriented and, admittedly fun, a concoction I’d never before experienced. He challenged me to go back to school, and to always look for ways to strengthen my education. I’ll admit that he was in my thoughts when I graduated from culinary school with a Baking & Pastry Management degree.
And yes, he lauded great, well structured and direct writing.
He spurred me to be my best self, often when I couldn't remotely imagine what that might be.
One day, Tom was transferred to lead and propel a new audit division in the latest of Kroger’s acquisitions, and I left the company shortly thereafter. I sold residential and investment real estate for 25 years. Tom’s pointed influence of professionalism suffused every client relationship.
Decades later from that early time, I live and work in a place I truly love, having gathered insights into different cultures and ways of living along the way. I have elevated respect for how significant family and cultural traditions are, and what they bring to enrich all our lives.
As I've become increasingly interested in foundational American and European foodways and super-high quality foodstuffs, I'm leaning into reading and research from others who have deeper knowledge on the subjects. I'm well into the text of a book entitled Virgin Territory, that takes a critical, deep dive into the world of olive oil. I no longer make quality assumptions based upon labels - and least of all, branding - as they're highly misleading.
As a result, Paul and I went on the hunt for a bottle or two of great Spanish olive oil yesterday. We found a small, unassuming international shop across town that proved to be a little pot of gold. We snagged bottles of Castillo de Canena and Marques de Valdueza. The Marques is a big grassy, silky Arbequina. The Castillo is best described as a dessert oil, having been steeped in sherry casks. To drizzle it on a soft, oozy piece of Brie or other triple creme, accompanied by great bites of fruit of the season, ahh.
Locally, Paul Durant began growing olives in 2004 in the Willamette Valley of west-central Oregon in addition to the wine grapes his family had grown for 50 years. Four years later he built an olive mill; Durant has since produced award-winning artisan oils in growing conditions still considered to be edgy for olives due to the risk of freezing. In Oregon agriculture, elevation is everything. Oregon State University’s Olea Program planted 100 varieties of olives as a guide to small growers making decisions about which olives to grow at varying elevations.
These fabulous oils are a segue into one of the best and sweetest finds of the August-September season: corn. This is where another of my few remaining Midwest biases gets laid bare. That bias is best told as a true story.
My son's dad's Cincinnati family had a farm friend named Gussie Brickner, whose family farm was in eastern Indiana. Once a year, this sweet crusty farm lady would call my then-husband's mother and say, "Marge, tomorrow's the day. It won't be any good after tomorrow, and we'll plow it under." What she meant was, the farmers had taken their corn to market. A farmer’s idea of freshness was 'on the day of' and, in her opinion, it had a very short shelf life. Marge and Herb and siblings Bert and Sandra dropped everything to pick corn the following day. Super-sweet, premium white corn called Silver Queen. Each year, they picked 100 dozen ears.
Having skillfully avoided the opportunity to engage the corn field, I joined in when the fruits of their labor arrived at home. On Herb's outdoor fireplace and Marge's picnic table, we shucked, par-boiled, cut and packaged 100 dozen ears of corn, enough for four families for the winter. Packages of the sweetest, most glorious white corn you can imagine.
Do I have a Midwest Silver Queen Corn bias? Oh, yes. And a Midwest tomato bias for a different set of reasons that are only geographically-specific and no one’s fault, like berries are to glorious Oregon.
Paul and I made the strategic decision that the Labor Day weekend was corn weekend. Early one morning, we eased out of our pre-caffeination stiffness and sipped our way to the Topaz Farm on Sauvie Island. The silk tassels were golden and moist, the ears firm, and the liquid in the kernels was milky. We gathered three dozen ears of generous size and ambled home, satisfied with our catch.
A task of this reduced size was complete in only an hour and a half.
We reserved four ears of kernels for a snappy, intensely flavored salad of sauteed Shishito and Serrano peppers. We whisked together a light dressing using our new grassy Marques de Valdueza olive oil, fresh lime juice, ground cumin, Kosher salt, diced red onion and fresh garlic. A five-minute par-boil before cutting the kernels off the cobs is all it takes to prep the corn. It adds a lovely crunch and bursts of sweet corn juice to the salad. Intoxicating, and habit-forming.
A bit of revelation arose as I was reading Virgin Territory and imagining the "rich, thick, green oil from ancient groves" around Beirut, Lebanon; the exquisite Spanish olive oils - the best of the best - that were reserved for family cellars and kitchens; and the inimitable bouquet and bright green hue of a Sicilian family olive oil produced since 1609.
I realized that this - this earth-grounded, tied-to-time-and-place philosophy - is my philosophy of cooking. Be it regional American, regional Italian, regional Spanish or French, this is my cooking world. It never allows the finished food to get too far away from its source. This actually came as a small revelation and, oddly, it surprised me as I discussed it with Paul.
With a sly smile, Tom would say, "You have a firm grasp of the obvious."
Please afford yourself the pleasure of exploring a legacy ingredient or product - just for the fun of it. Choose a category of artisan cheeses, vinegars, mushrooms or oils - perhaps something you newly recognize that’s produced, grown or foraged locally, an ingredient you may have said to yourself you’d like to explore.
Read, read, read. Notice and support the growers who are transforming your regional foodways.
If you’d like that Shishito-Serrano Corn Salad recipe, please email me at linda@essentialconfection.com.
That corn salad has earned a place in our recipe book. Yummm!
We love the Durant olive oils. The fact that they have such a varied flavor is great. I like the peppery ones, Tuscan I think? Plus, their gift shop is a superb stop in the Dundee Valley.