by Suvir Saran
Stories and Recipes from an Uncommon Life in the Country
by Suvir Saran
with Raquel Pelzel and Charlie Burd
Photographs by Ben Fink
Dedication
There are a number of beings—human and animal—to whom I dedicate this book.
To Nana (my maternal grandfather, Chaman Lal Bhardwaj) and Michael Batter-berry, two grand men, who lived separated by seas and continents but who lived lives quite similar in the brilliance of their content, the richness of their thoughts, and the ideas and inspiration that they left behind for countless many. My most supportive and loving influencers, I wish you new chapters of your lives and souls that are just as rich, or richer still. How blessed I am to have been gifted by your presence.
To Karun Deep Sagar, my nephew, who I hope will continue to enrich and better this grand world that Nana and Michael have left behind. Your destiny I shall never see, but I know it will be full of riches, some waiting to be discovered, others better because you have already found them. The farm is as much yours as ours. Enjoy it for what it is, a symbol of life everlasting.
To Charlie, Seema, and Ajit—three pillars of strength that I have had on my side, always. Charlie, thanks for your constant and epic partnership. Thanks also for always having my life organized so that I can keep sharing and learning every day from my travels through this land and others. Seema and Ajit, thanks for being siblings and elders—all at once. I am blessed, what more can I say?
To Kali, beloved cat of many memorable years, who never allowed a moment to pass without making her presence known, and to Simba, who deeply mourned Kali’s passing but consoled us with his acute desire to cuddle and hug. Kali, you were the ultimate gourmand who enjoyed Battenkill Valley Creamery milk every bit as much as we do. No other milk was ever good enough.
To the blue heron that was here, picking a fish from the pond every time we came to see the house before we bought it—an early omen for me that this was the farm we wanted. We are lucky she comes back daily. And to all the other lives, big and small, that inhabit the farm today, and shall tomorrow: This farm is more yours than it is ours. Your presence makes us feel blessed. Your joy is ours doubled. Your safety our mission. May you always prosper and keep our home and lives enriched by your presence.
Table of Contents
Foreword
INTRODUCTION: City Boys, Country Masala
CHAPTER ONE: SPRING
Anticipation, Patience, and Delicious Rewards
Goat Cheese and Herb Frittata
Cauliflower, Chèvre, And Onion Quiche
Farm Yarn: Goat’s Milk Surprise
Scratch Bean Salad with Basil and Roasted Peppers
Pasta Primavera
Asparagus And Green Pea Risotto With Fresh Herb Tarka
Farmhouse Crispy-Creamy Potatoes
Warm Egg Salad on Croissants with Country Bacon and Arugula
Farm Yarn: Drop-Ins Welcome!
Maryann’s Stuffed Grape Leaves
Thin-Crust Pizza Margherita
Charlie’s Herby Marinara
Summerfield Farm’s Lamb Pastrami
Farm Yarn: The Courthouse Community Garden
Ginger-Soy Fresh Ham with Roasted Garlic
Banana-Caramel Pudding
Spiced Rhubarb Jam
Rhubarb and Raspberry Cobbler with Crème Fraîche
Almost-Flourless Caramel-Lacquered Chocolate-Peanut Torte
CHAPTER TWO: SUMMER
Sweet Corn, Snap Peas, and a Steady Stream of New Faces
Deviled Eggs with Cilantro, Chiles, and Spices
Scrambled Eggs with Tomatoes, Onions, and Herbs
Grandma Mae’s Biscuits
Farm Yarn: Teaching Kids to Eat Well
Country Salad with Five Vinaigrette Variations
Ginger and Shoyu Vinaigrette
North Country Balsamic Vinaigrette
Summer Tisane Vinaigrette
Tangy Buttermilk-Tarragon Dressing
Southeast Asian Dressing
Cabbage Slaw with Fresh Herbs and Peanuts
Chunky Eggplant Dip
Simple Marinated Peppers
Summer Tomato Pie
Farm Yarn: Trading County Fair for Country Fare
Penne with Popped Tomatoes and Bacon
Farm Yarn: A Proud Pantry
Shrimp and Sweet Corn Curry
Salt-Roasted Whole Trout
Garam Masala Roast Chicken
Juicy Turkey-Cheddar Burgers
Strawberries-and-Cream Ice Cream
Farm Yarn: Battenkill Valley Creamery
Seasonal Jam
Farm Yarn: u-pick, u-share
CHAPTER THREE: FALL
Embracing Autumnal Transitions and Traditions
Chai Cider
Arvest Apple-Craisin Chutney
Bread Pakoras
Farm Yarn: The Weed We Grew to Love
French Onion Soup
Peanut Chaat
Chaat Fries
“I Can’t Believe It’s Not Meat” Ragu Over Fettuccine
Farro and Mushroom Burgers
Peanut Fried Chicken
Farm Yarn: The Battenkill Kitchen
Herbed Pheasant Breasts with Spiced Pomegranate Reduction
Braised Kid Shanks and Lentils
Farm Yarn: Love is in the Air
Spicy Pulled Pork
Shirred Eggs with Pulled Pork
Rabbit Stew with Porcini and Picholines
Farm Yarn: Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels
Autumn Pear and Cranberry Cobbler
Apple Upside-Down Cake
Farm Yarn: apples galore
Rustic Double Apple Tart
Cognac-Cured Fruitcake
Upstate Apple Butter
CHAPTER FOUR: WINTER
A Rekindling of Community
Old-Fashioned Eggnog
Farm Yarn: eBay for Eggs
Farmhouse Chai
Butternut Squash Chaat
Butternut Squash, Apple, and Cranberry Gratin
Sweet and Sour Butternut Squash
Roasted Manchurian Cauliflower
Farm Yarn: Goose Number 1,263
Sally’s Veggie Dumplings with Ginger-Soy Dipping Sauce
Shortcut Potato and Pea Turnovers
Country Rabbit Terrine with Pistachios and Pernod
Rustic Rabbit Pâté with Juniper Berries
New Year’s Black-Eyed Pea Curry
Farm Yarn: The Three Faces Of Curry
Birbal Kee Khitcheree
Tamarind Chicken Wings
Farm Yarn: The Birds of American Masala Farm
Kerala Egg Roast
Veal Chops with Mustard-Herb Sauce
Masala Chateaubriand
Candy Cane Kisses
Cranberry and Dried Strawberry Free-Form Galette
Chocolate-Nut Brittle
Chocolate-Peanut Tart with Caramel and Chocolate Mousse
Farmhouse Basics
Farmhouse Resources
Index
About the Author
Foreword
Because I am a baker, most people assume that sweet things are my passion. In truth, though I love to bake, I’ve always favored the flavor of spice. I was captivated by Indian cuisine more than thirty years ago during a month-long visit to India. It was not in restaurants, however, where I found the best food; it was in the home of friends who had a gifted chef. Mealtime was the highlight of every day, and it was never the same twice. I learned that Indian food isn’t just about fire and spice; in the hands of a skilled cook, as well as being brilliantly vibrant, it can be a kaleidoscope of complexity, balance, and subtlety. By the end of my stay, it seemed that most other food was bland and uninteresting by comparison.
I
longed to return to India, not just for the food but also for the exquisite beauty of colors and crafts and the extraordinary warmth of the people. I never expected to encounter all of this right in my own hometown until I met Suvir Saran when I interviewed him for a Food Arts magazine story on sugar. Michael Batterberry, founding editor, suggested that since we are both contributing editors, I should speak to Suvir about the unrefined Indian sugar called jaggery. After our first conversation, we became fast friends; many years later, Michael Batterberry wrote forewords for both of our cookbooks—the only ones he ever offered—creating a deeper priceless bond. Suvir expresses it as being siblings, and indeed we are; I think of us as kindred spirit twins: sugar and spice!
We have many other things in common in addition to food, such as our big-city beginnings that metamorphosed into a devotion to nature, a deep connection to the land, and an appreciation for country living. In gravitating to the rural countryside of Hebron, situated in a verdant valley between the Adirondacks of New York and the Green Mountains of Vermont, Suvir and his partner, Charlie, have found the perfect setting for living their passionate pursuits of cooking, designing kitchen equipment, farming, entertaining friends and family, and fulfilling their spiritual convictions of community and responsibility to the environment.
Suvir and Charlie contribute to the community in myriad ways. They provide products to new food ventures and offer advice and education, bringing in chefs from all over the country. In the nearby town of Salem, they also raise funds for the Battenkill Kitchen, to make available an affordable, qualified commercial kitchen for local cooks who want to sell their wares. They think nothing of jumping into the car to bring a crate of fresh farm eggs to Max London’s restaurant in Saratoga Springs, an hour’s drive away, because Max told them it wouldn’t be Sunday brunch without those eggs. The croissants from Michael London’s adjoining bakery—the best I’ve ever tasted—are photographed in the book as part of what has to be the ultimate bacon and egg sandwich.
We all want to succeed and be noticed, but for Suvir, becoming a better person comes first. Suvir’s heritage of respect and reverence for people and all living things manifests itself at every turn. He comes from a culture where hospitality and concern for others are held sacred. It moved me to tears watching him politely saluting an elderly turbaned Hindu cab driver in New York, sweetly calling him Bhaisahib, seeing him graciously and attentively welcoming my ninety-six-year-old father to spend the night at his farm, and watching him relating to his farm’s many animals.
American Masala Farm is welcoming to man, beast, and fowl alike. It provides a home to endangered species and those on the “critical list,” such as Cayuga green-black ducks and American Buff geese, thirty-six breeds of chickens, two alpacas that were rejected by breeders (one for her endearingly comical buck teeth and the other for his neck that is a few inches too long), and the very rare Leicester Longwool sheep, originally brought to the United States by presidents Washington and Jefferson. One of Charlie and Suvir’s goals for the future “… is our desire to start making cheese once we have at least a couple to three dozen girls in the flock.”
There’s an unequaled feeling of goodness—of connection to the earth—that comes from making jam and cooking regional produce that one forages, grows, or purchases from nearby farm stands. This is a land of wild raspberries on the roadside, wild mushrooms and animals in the nearby wooded hills, a state-protected trout stream, and a pond where the ducks and geese parade to and fro and their cousins the wild Canadian geese skid-land, feetfirst, during their annual migration.
In this extraordinary new book, Suvir merges his highly refined spice sensibility with the great produce of his adopted land. He also harvests favorite recipes from friends and worldwide travels such as the Farmhouse Crispy-Creamy Potatoes, roasted with herbs he cleverly calls Herbes de Hebron as a riff on herbes de Provence. And I was overjoyed to find the recipe for Roasted Manchurian Cauliflower, one of my favorite dishes at his New York City restaurant, Dévi—guaranteed to convert a professed detractor of the vegetable. Also gracing this book is a very special biscuit recipe—one that Suvir made for our breakfast and served with his homemade jams. The secret to these exceptionally tender and buttery biscuits is that compared to most, they have half the cream and double the butter! Consummate host that he is, Suvir sent my father home with an ample supply of biscuits and jam to enjoy in the comfort of his own home.
This book is blessed with many glorious photographs by the brilliantly talented Ben Fink; they illustrate the recipes and lifestyle that Suvir and Charlie share with sincere and engaging eloquence. For me, every word rings true because they perfectly reflect my two visits to the farm. Once again, I saw the huge golden white rooster who prefers to hang out with the bucks (male goats) to his own hens but sits trustingly and contentedly in Suvir’s embrace, and the alpacas whose lovely beige and brown furs become exquisitely soft yarn for knitting in the cold winter months and about whom Suvir says “They protect the goats and sheep, amuse us with their personalities, and enrich us with their fiber.”
Suvir is one of those rare individuals who possesses a magnetic personality. All are drawn to him and want nothing more than to remain by his side to bask in the dynamic warmth, humor, generosity, and love that he radiates. But there is another side to Suvir—that of a sharply clever and playful master of the tease and please. He is full of surprises, and his recipes reflect all these enticing qualities. How wonderful to have this book by one’s side from which to cook and to dream of an idyllic Masala Farm existence.
—Rose Levy Beranbaum, author of The Cake Bible and Rose’s Heavenly Cakes
INTRODUCTION:
City Boys, Country Masala
Live life with masala, and your mind, stomach, and spirit will always be satiated.
In Hindi, masala means “spice.” In its simplest translation, masala is used to define a singular spice—like cinnamon or ground ginger—or a spice blend—like garam masala or chaat masala, a combination of spices that work together to create a symphony of taste explosions in even the simplest dish. Some flavors are bold and hit you immediately, while others only begin to entertain your taste buds seconds after you have taken the first bite. Then there are the lingering notes that hound you for hours after you have finished your meal, leaving you perplexed and pleased. Much like life, masala invites a combination of ups and downs, bitterness, spice, and sweetness that bring joy and interest to the every day.
With these contrasts, we can appreciate life with a greater sensibility. That’s why masala is about much more than just adding flavor to food. It is about living—and appreciating—every moment of our lives. Exploring curiosities, being adventurous learners, sharing laughter and comforts with friends and family, traveling to expose yourself to new experiences, and eating food rich with character and spice—to me, this is living a life rich with masala.
And so with this book, I’m sharing masala-infused recipes and stories meant to entertain your minds, warm your hearts, and fill your bellies. It’s my hope that you’ll have a greater understanding of how to live a life charged with masala, and bring it into your kitchens and homes.
The glimmer of Masala Farm began after a weekend trip to a friend’s farm in Vermont. My partner, Charlie Burd, and I started fantasizing about life in the country: a home with enough land to grow vegetables and fruit, to have a chicken coop and fresh farm eggs, to tend goats, and even to make cheese. We dreamt of how great it would be to create an environment where, like a great spice blend, people from all different backgrounds can mix together to share food, ideas, curiosities, and convictions.
After just a few short months of house hunting in 2005, Charlie and I found our home-to-be— a modest-size four-bedroom farmhouse with a gray slate roof and clapboard painted turmeric orange in upstate New York. With three ponds, a few barns, apple trees, and sixty-seven acres, it was perfect. (And I had no idea just how profound the effect would be on my cooking.) Our home, the American Masala Far
m, has become a place where friends, chefs, and family from as near as next door or as far away as India can come to break bread, share stories, cook, and eat.
Our menus have become easier and more impromptu since moving here. This is a necessity, since we can never anticipate what is going to happen on the farm—a goat giving birth when we didn’t even know she was pregnant, stolen goslings, coyotes in the goat pasture, a pump in the well on the fritz—anything can happen at any time. Cooking has also become a communal exercise. We are almost always entertaining, be it one guest or one dozen, and we enjoy getting everyone who will sit at the table involved in creating the meal. This gives everyone ownership, something to talk about and reflect upon, and stories for the next dinner. It also leads to a very informal and comforting energy in the kitchen. Anyone who may have been shy about his or her kitchen skills quickly abandons any sense of bashfulness and starts exchanging ideas, jokes, and gossip with the rest of us.
Having a farm has also connected me to the seasons, nature, and the elements in a way I hadn’t experienced before. For instance, now I try to limit our foods to what’s available from nearby farms as much as possible. This means cooking becomes local in spirit and communal in the labor involved, making the meal about today and the friends and neighbors who have gathered around the table. I open my menu to specialty ingredients, too. From Pat and Albert Sheldon of Sheldon Farms and from Meg and Rob Southerland of Gardenworks, we buy butter imported from Parma, Italy; Swiss Gruyère; and Spanish Marcona almonds, as well as seasonal berries and fresh vegetables. Their shops enrich our country lifestyles with amazing not-so-local products that crowd our pantry and make meals that much more special. We enjoy watching the shocked expression on friends’ faces when they sit down to dinner at our table. Yes, we are farmers, and yes, we are in a rural setting, but we too have pantries with a global reach and gourmet ambitions. Dare I say we eat better north of Albany than we did in lower Manhattan? Rules and expectations have fallen by the wayside, and cooking has become as much about the joys of preparing a meal as it is about sitting down to relish it.