Edible San Juan Mountains by Edible Southwest Colorado

san juan edible mountains

Traversing Southwest Colorado to bring you the story of local food, season by season.

No. 15 Winter 2013/2014

HAVE A HEART (literally) THE SKINNY ON RAW MILK

THE PIE MAKER OF CORTEZ

IT'S LOCAL, BABY !

KATRINA BLAIR TAKES A HIKE (with no food or water)

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CONTENTS 4

A THANK YOU TO THE COMMUNITY

| Katie Burford

| Linley Dixon

EASY CHÈVRE RECIPE

SAN JUAN BREWERS BRING HOME THE HARDWARE

IT'S LOCAL, BABY ! | Jess Kelley

| Rick Scibelli

A PERFECT WINTER REFUGE | D. Dion

FUELING OUR CACAO ADDICTION | Margaret Hedderman

8 10 18

WILD WALKABOUT | Katrina Blair

THE PIE MAKER OF CORTEZ | Jaime Becktel

IT'S NOT JUST CHOPPED LIVER

VEG AND BACK AGAIN

| Erin Jolley

HAVE A HEART(literally) | Rachel Turiel

| Lauren Slaff

GRAHAM'S RAW MILK MENAGERIE | Katie Burford

TRY IT, YOU'LL LIKE IT

DIY PANTRY: YOGURT

| Katie Burford

| Rachel Turiel 1

EDITOR'S LETTER

hen Carmen Ritz talks about eating brains, she leans in and lights up. “It tastes like buttery cream cheese,” the ethereal-eyed cardiopulmonary wellness manager says. Frankly, for me, this doesn’t help sell it. It could taste like donuts and it wouldn’t matter. I don’t tell her this but I am thinking it. Look in her freezer and you will see a whole cow wrapped in white butcher paper. "It's Homer," Ritz says. "He was a beautiful Simmental cross." There is Homer's liver. There is his heart. And there is the thymus gland. “Sweetbreads,” she says. Somewhere in the frost lie his eyes. Before last month, I fancied myself open to new culinary experiences. Apparently I draw the line at feet, glands or really anything north of the shoulder region. For the record, I have had liver. It tasted like sheet metal. But tell a liver eater and they will tell you "it was cooked wrong,” with a tone of slight frustration suggesting a parent spending a lifetime defending their child’s peculiar behavior. Then I think about my own liver and how it would probably taste like beer. This issue has taught me/us that organ eaters abound and the population is growing. If you're over 70, give or take, you probably grew up eating liver and chicken gizzards and maybe sweetbreads. You have probably tried a pickled pig’s foot or at least know somebody who has. I am old enough to remember being in a bar that had a giant jar of pig’s feet sitting there just like pickles. I wondered: “Who in the hell would eat those?” Apparently Carmen would. So, it seems, would a lot of people. And here is the rub. They just might be good for you. Actually, great for you as the cardiac care nurse will tell you. Although I would consider getting your feet at a reputable butcher instead of a jar at the end of the bar. In this issue, Rachel Turiel tackles the ins and outs of organ meat and all the other parts the majority of us declare inedible. Lauren Slaff will tell you how to cook it. “I can get kids to eat liver,” she boldly claims. The following pages may suggest otherwise, but this issue of ESJM was not put together by The Waltons. Not only are we reporting on organ meat, but we unveil raw milk. And how to make your own yogurt and goat cheese from that raw milk – it doesn’t require a vigorous day of agitating a wooden churn (it is actually very, very easy). Katrina Blair talks about walking from Durango to Telluride with nothing but the clothes on her back. And then we have the pie baker in Cortez pumping out treats from recipes that probably found their way here via Ellis Island. She bakes pies for a living. It’s like 1940. We may have fallen short by not writing on how to darn your socks. In our defense, we ran out of space. After every issue, I find myself daydreaming (my default position). I am getting chickens, I promise myself. I am starting a giant garden. I am going to brew my own beer. I am going to buy a cow. After the summer 2012 issue, I went so far as to Google ‘grape vines’ 2 edible SAN JUAN MOUNTAINS WINTER 2013/2014

after deciding that instead of a garden I was going to start a small vineyard. Then the next issue comes and I am still sitting here living a thoroughly civilized life. No garden. No chickens. No compost pile. Completely ill prepared for any disaster, which for me could mean that the garage door opener breaks. But I am giving raw milk a whirl. You see, in Colorado, you essentially have to partner with the farmer as a partial herd owner to get your raw milk. So by drinking raw milk, one instantly becomes an owner of a cow. You see where I am going. As for organ meat? Why kid myself. ' – Rick Scibelli, Jr.

edible

san juan mountains EDITOR AND PUBLISHER Rick Scibelli, Jr.

MANAGING EDITOR Rachel Turiel

COPY EDITOR Chris Brussat

STAFF WRITERS Lauren Slaff Katie Burford Laura Thomas Jess Kelley

CONTRIBUTING WRITERS Deb Dion Margaret Hedderman Jaime Becktel

PHOTOGRAPHY AND DESIGN Rick Scibelli, Jr.

INTERESTED IN ADVERTISING? CONTACT US rick@ediblesanjuanmountains.com (Durango, Telluride) michelle@ediblesanjuanmountains.com (Ridgway, Ouray, Paonia, Montrose, Grand Junction) edible San Juan Mountains 361 Camino del Rio Suite 127 Durango, CO 81303 To send a letter to the editor, email us at rick@ediblesanjuanmountains.com. Edible San Juan Mountains is published quarterly by Sunny Boy Publications. All rights reserved. Distribution is throughout southwest Colorado and nationally (and locally) by subscription. No part of this publication may be used without written permission of the publisher. © 2013. Every effort is made to avoid errors, misspellings and omissions. If, however, an error comes to your attention, please accept our sincere apologies and do notify us.

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ON THE COVER: Carmen Ritz, manager of cardiopulmonary rehabilitation and wellness at Mercy Regional Medical Center, has an atypical message: Eat your liver (and everything else). Ritz and her partner, Stephen Michel, live with 25 horses, 2 bovines (Gimpy and Heidi), 12 chickens, six ducks, nine geese, three turkeys, two llamas, eight cats and one dog on 48 irrigated acres outside of Ignacio, Colorado, where nothing goes to waste. Literally. Not the brisket, not the flanks, not the liver, not the kidneys and especially not the marrow. Not even the tail. "We are the only animal that can consciously choose in our own evolution," Ritz said. "This consciousness is a double-edged sword – we can be the most vicious or the most caring and social of creatures." Ritz will tell you that her lifestyle has taught her how precious life really is. "All life lives on life," she said.

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– Rick Scibelli, Jr.

SAN JUAN BREWERS BRING HOME THE HARDWARE

n 2012, there were 164 microbreweries in Colorado. According to the Beer Institute (yes there is an institute for beer), when it comes to per-person beer consumption nationwide, Colorado ranks a paltry 24th. But when you consider that we average 30 gallons per year per person over the age of 21, it is nothing to hang our heads about. And according to The Institute, the economic impact for our state is substantial to say the least. Like close to 60,000 jobs directly or indirectly related to the industry totaling over $3 million in wages (all, in turn, spent on beer, no doubt). About 350 microbreweries, brewpubs and regional craft breweries (there is a distinction) were established between 2011 and 2012 alone. Now, with approximately 2400 across the country, it isn’t easy to stand out, much less win a medal as coveted as those handed out at the annual Great American Beer Festival held in Denver every year since 1982. Yet five San Juan brewers managed to come home with four golds and one silver in October. Durango brewers Ska, Steamworks and Carver’s, along with Pagosa Brewing & Grill, all came home with gold while Colorado Boy, tucked away off the main drag in remote Ridgway, walked away with a very respectable silver. Category 4: Fruit Wheat Beer Gold: Peachy Peach, Pagosa Brewing & Grill, Pagosa Springs Category 38: European-Style Dunkel Gold: Munich Dunkel, Carver Brewing Co., Durango Category 46: English-Style Summer Ale Gold: True Blonde Ale, Ska Brewing, Durango Category 60: Irish-Style Red Ale Silver: Colorado Boy Irish Ale, Colorado Boy Brewing Co., Ridgway Category 67: German-Style Wheat Ale Gold: Slam Dunkel, Steamworks Brewing Co., Durango

CORRECTION: Due to a reporting mistake, a story in our last issue, Ole Bye Delivers The Farm, misidentified Four Seasons Greenhouse & Nursery as Four Corners Greenhouse & Nursery. Now that you know the real name, you can check out their winter farmers market. Yes, fresh, locally-grown produce (like green stuff), baked goods and local meat in the dead of winter. www.fourseasonsgreenhouse.com

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A THANK YOU TO THE COMMUNITY FROM ADOBE HOUSE FARM Dear Community, Farming in Durango has been humbling. Our vegetable farm is only three years old, but already we’ve experienced unpredicted frosts, heavy winds that blow plastic off grow tunnels, herbicide carryover in composted hay and manure, cold summer nights preventing the maturity of warm-season crops, high soil pH, limited water, gophers, flea beetles, aphids, hail, and…need I go on? Every year, the onset of the monsoons begins with “oh yes, it’s raining” and quickly becomes “no, wait, stop raining because it’s beating the crops to death!” No wonder there are so few vegetable farms in the area; surviving the elements goes against the odds. But this year we learned one thing that we have works in our favor: a willing work force! When hail hit our farm in mid-September, we had decided to throw in the towel for the season. But YOU didn’t let us give up that easily. A social network already in place through the Fort Lewis Environmental Center and the local extension service sent more than 75 people our way to harvest damaged tomatoes, make trips to cold storage at Zia, and process and freeze the “rescued” tomatoes at Linda’s Local Food Cafe. You turned tears into smiles and 5,000 pounds of tomatoes into salsa and chutney rather than compost! We at Adobe House Farm thank everyone who helped, especially Linda Illsley, who convinced us that all was not lost and is still churning out delicious products from the freezer. We also want to let you know that WE heard you loud and clear: you want the opportunity to help local farms through bad times and good. All we farmers need to do is get over our pride and start asking! – Linley Dixon

FUELING OUR CACAO ADDICTION

| Margaret Hedderman

hen archeologists found remnants of hot cocoa mugs in Honduras, it officially confirmed that humans have been addicted to chocolate for over 3,000 years. But it wasn’t until chocolate touched the unsuspecting taste buds of Spanish conquistadors that it quickly became one of the world’s most popular foods. Quantity and quality, however, are two very different things, and no one knows it better than Durango chocolatier Carley Felton. Felton, who opened the Animas Chocolate Company in 2011, specializes in handmade and single-origin chocolates. “The artisan chocolate industry is really taking off,” Felton says. Over the last fifteen years, independent artisan chocolate shops have cropped up around the country. Artisan chocolatiers pride themselves on using higher-quality ingredients and having 6 edible SAN JUAN MOUNTAINS WINTER 2013/2014

the ability to educate their customers about where their chocolate is sourced and how it’s created. Though there is little threat of the artisan industry ever replacing mass-market chocolates, we may begin to see a greater acceptance and demand for handcrafted sweets. Felton likens it to another very familiar success story. “I would personally love it if the (artisan) chocolate industry became like the craft brewery industry.” Felton’s story proves there is a place for handcrafted chocolate in a competitive marketplace. Her big break came at the 2012 Durango Chocolate Fantasia, where she beat out the big boys – like the Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory – with a creamy, drive-in movie inspired malt truffle. “It kind of legitimized us. It was a big confidence booster,”

Felton says. Felton moved to Durango a week after graduating from the University of Wisconsin-Madison in 2006. By 2011, she was managing the Leland House & Rochester Hotel, but was quickly beginning to feel restless. “You get that itch when you want to be your own boss and I guess it came early for me,” she remembers. “When I was looking at [starting] different businesses, chocolate really struck me because you could be creative.” Felton was making goodies in the kitchen as early as high school, but had never seriously considered making chocolate as a living. “I never thought in a million years I’d be doing this, but it feels so right.” After taking an online chocolate-making course through the Canadian Ecole Chocolat, Felton began mixing and creating her own flavors with French and Belgian chocolates. Many of her truffles, inspired by places along the Animas River, feature local ingredients, like the mint-flavored GrassHopper Creek and honey Mudslide. Felton has also begun experimenting with one of the latest trends in the artisan world. “Single-origin chocolate is like flavors of wine coming from a specific area,” she explains. “They have a more pronounced flavor.” During the summer months, Felton can be found at the Durango Farmer’s Market. She will be opening a new, larger storefront on Main Avenue this fall. a

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IN THE FIELD

Katrina Blair and Mesquite.

WILD WALKABOUT

Walking from Durango to Telluride with just the clothes on her back | Katrina Blair

ave a great time at church.” These are my mom’s parting words as she drops me at the trailhead. It is early August in Durango and the berries are ripe. She knows. The woods for me are about communing with the nature of the universe. I take a walkabout a few times each year during which I rely entirely on the wild abundance along the way for my sustenance. This solo time allows me to recharge and return to center. For the last five years, my August trek has led me to Telluride to teach at the Mushroom Festival. I take a different route each year. This year, my journey covers 90 miles and takes seven days. I walk at a harvester’s pace, taking a few steps, nibbling along the way, and often wandering off trail for the choice berries. I make up

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time by moving fast when the land is sparse of edibles. Luckily my pack is light, containing only the basics such as a sleeping bag, tarp, raingear and warm clothes. I leave at home the food, stove, filter and cutlery. My first day I feast on handfuls of serviceberries, chokecherries, Oregon grape berries, violet greens and pine needles. I unexpectedly find an apricot tree laden with fruit and a wild apple tree across the trail. I gather a few for later. My feast continues with thimbleberries, raspberries, wild parsley, watermelon berries, wild tarragon, rosehips, harebells and dandelion greens. I carry a water bottle and refill at creeks I pass. I started drinking unfiltered water after many years of eating wild food. At one point

I questioned my fear of wild water and began sipping from streams at high elevations with aerated whitewater. I gradually increased my intake of wild water until now my main water at home is unfiltered creek water. The first two days are transitional and I experience a kind of detox. I go through moments of feeling lonely, hungry, cold and tired. Civilized life is stimulating and it takes time to unwind my energy back into alignment with the frequency of nature. Knowing this period is part of my journey helps me be patient as I question what I am doing. I don’t take my emotions seriously, otherwise I might hijack my plans. Instead, I take breaks as often as I need. Sleep is my one true escape. It’s been raining hard the last two days and I retreat under my tarp early for bed. I awake to the morning sunlight feeling renewed and surrender into trusting the unknown. By day three, I remember that I love what I am doing and relax more deeply into listening to the symphony of the earth around me. After packing up camp, I spot a beautiful dandelion flower. I pick the stem at the base and pop the flower into my mouth. I try playing it as a flute. The taller stems make wonderful sounds like a kazoo and by pinching tiny holes in the stem for fingers, it will play different notes. This one doesn’t sing, so I use the enzymes in the sticky white sap on a sunspot on my hand while enjoying the honey flavor of the pollen. My next feast is a bouquet of bluebells near a creek. I eat both leaves and flowers. As I hike, I chew on osha greens. They taste like celery and create a mouth-tingling sensation that cleans my mouth of bacteria. I gather plantain seed stalks growing on the edges of a dirt road for my staple food for the day. I eat the seeds when they are green and brown. The green seeds chew easily and taste like a nutty vegetable. The brown seeds I chew well knowing the mucilaginous paste will support my digestion. For dinner I eat flowers: harebells, mustard, fireweed, clover and bluebells. Day four I feast on hundreds of strawberries. I lay myself prostrate to the strawberry goddess. I have a hard time hiking because the patches kept coming. I also indulge on three different species of gooseberries and discover a special treat of a few bilberries. I find two prime king bolete mushrooms and eat them raw. The stems are so juicy because of all the rain, that I prefer them over the caps. I lick some fresh sap off a pine tree that had recently been struck by lightening. I give the tree my appreciation and love. As I move through the forest, spontaneous songs emerge and become mantras for my journey. This afternoon I enjoy the subtle licorice flavor of sweet cicely and roseroot, a high alpine succulent, which in the past I didn’t prefer, but now pleases my palate. When I bring salty crackers or sweet bars, the flavors of the wild plants don’t taste as good in comparison. When I am eating only what’s here, the flavors come alive. One morning I rise before sunrise and come upon a herd of elk resting in a meadow. I attempt to sneak past them, but they catch my movements and disperse into the forest. Later, a young bear lopes towards me 20 feet down on the lower trail of a switchback. He sees

me and disappears into the bushes. After wearing the same wool T-shirt for five days, I lay it out to dry after a rainstorm. I sit nearby journaling on a few scraps of paper. In the meantime, a chipmunk eats a hole in my shirt the size of a large pancake. The salts from my sweat are too tempting. This reminds me how nature is a resilient opportunist. My days continue with long miles and multiple mountain passes to cross. The berries are far in between and I have to keep moving to make the passes before the storms prevent my travels. Luckily, wild food is potent and a little goes a long way, especially when eating directly from earth to mouth. As I travel, I find myself meditating on the question “Where do we get our energy from?” I realize I gain energy from so many sources like doing what I love, breathing, laying on the earth, sunrises and sunsets, swimming in cold water, and gratitude. I feel a sense of freedom knowing I can open myself to myriad other nutrient sources that give energy needed to traverse the mountains when the food is minimal. My co-worker from Turtle Lake Refuge joins me on the final day and a half of my journey and we make our way over the last passes and drop into the Telluride valley. We harvest a bounty of mushrooms, berries and greens to share at the festival. Although I will miss the spaciousness of the wild time, I am excited to visit the farmers market for a local peach and re-embrace the charms of civilization. a

IN THE OVEN

Photo by Tim Stubbs

THE PIE MAKER OF CORTEZ | Jaime Becktel

t’s possible that I’ve died and gone to some hell-like place where I can see the assortment of baked goods, smell their steaming sweetness and even taste them at the back of my throat where the sensory overlap of nose and tongue come together, but I can’t actually put a single one of Shoshana Winer’s creations in my mouth (sad descending horn noise). I’m doing a 30-day cleanse. Excellent for the body, detrimental to morale since sugar, dairy and flour are excommunicated from the church of all things I want to cram into my face on this Saturday at the Cortez Farmers Market. Crestfallen, I watch a child depart the Pie Maker’s tent slurping the piping wonderment of homemade hot cocoa. I gaze forlornly as smiling customers withdraw into the bliss of their savory pies; jam cookies filled with glistening preserves; apricot scones; and most distressing, The Fisherman Sandwich: a handmade bagel slathered with cream cheese and crown jeweled with a slice of wild-caught, smoked Alaskan salmon, slivered onions, fresh dill and ripe, local tomatoes. Behind throngs of market-goers jockeying for their morning joy presides a young woman with a permanent beamer of a smile known 10 edible SAN JUAN MOUNTAINS WINTER 2013/2014

by most as Shani, The Pie Maker. By her side is her man, Tim Stubbs, the “Pie Guy.” Named after her great-grandmother, Shoshana “Shani” Winer grew up in New England in a family where food was a central, unifying theme. “In Jewish culture, so much revolves around food: stories, songs, traditions, sharing and family,” she says. “Baking has been a part of my life since childhood when my mother taught me how to make homemade hamantaschen; jam-filled pocket cookies found in traditional Jewish cuisine from a recipe passed down by multiple generations of women in my family.” The Pie Maker was not always a baker. Her meandering path carried her through science labs and art studios until she began to desire something more wholesome and fulfilling. In 2006, she met Tim, an interpretive ranger at Mesa Verde National Park, fell in love, moved to Mancos and a year later landed her first baking position at the Absolute Bakery Café. She later worked at Bread in Durango, but seemed to have a never-ending cavalcade of questions about the technical processes of baking. Her quest for deeper knowledge

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Shoshana Winer, around 3 a.m., at The Farm in Cortez, CO.

eventually took her to Portland where she enrolled in the Oregon Culinary Institute. While studying, she took an apprenticeship at Ken’s Artisan Bakery, a French Patisserie, where she found that the quality was staggeringly high and the margin for rookie mistakes humbling. In this incubator of impeccable standards and rigorous training, she developed an intuitive understanding of recipe chemistry. After two years in Portland, she returned to Mancos to build her small-town presence as The Pie Maker. As a New Englander, Shani fondly recalled Amish whoopie pies from Boston and fresh bagels from upstate New York. “When I moved west, I missed these things, so I decided to make them myself with healthier, organic, seasonal and locally-sourced ingredients.” These days she can be found during ungodly hours baking at the Farm Bistro in Cortez, using their kitchen for all production and providing them with dessert items for their lunch and dinner menus. “The Farm has been such a loving, generous foster family to me and we have built a great partnership. I’m lucky for my business to be cradled by this space so committed to supporting local food.” All of the Pie Maker’s creations are handmade from scratch using the highest quality ingredients with careful consideration awarded to both seasonal and local crops. Like a Dutch still life painting that you can actually eat, Shani’s sweet and savory delights are esthetically lovely. “They say people eat with their eyes first, so I want them to enjoy my baked goods on many levels.” Her favorite thing to bake? Pie! “As a culture, we have such nostalgia for pie. Pies are iconic. They represent the holidays, connection and family. They’re very American, yet they go as far back as

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Medieval Europe.” The pronouns representing the Pie Maker seem to switch somewhat spasmodically from “her” to “them,” and from “I” to “we” because although Shani is the baker, there is a definite team at play with the production of goods. With his bellowing, “Hot pie! Get your hot pie!” Tim is the enthusiastic promoter, photographer, taskmaster and taste-tester. He lovingly admires their portable oven/ stovetop with the same admiration some men might behold a cherry red muscle car. “It’s an Easy Bake Oven for big kids! I’ve wanted one since I was 5 but I recall thinking, ‘I’m not supposed to want that. I’m pretty sure it’s for girls.’ Now, 30 years later, I finally got one!” Shani looks at Tim and, smiling, says, “Tim’s part of everything we make. He’s a part of the entire process. Most importantly, he makes sure I’m eating and sleeping and takes care of the basics.” Nearing the end of market, with treats in-hand, adults become kids and kids are just plain hooked up and stoked. Behind the smiles and sticky fingers, bustling to and fro with the resolve of a midwife delivering handmade bagel, pie and muffin babies, Shani says, “There’s something so necessary and elemental about feeding people and there’s something so circular about what I’m doing. I love that my baking adds positive value from my happy hands to your happy hands. I make treats, like little vacations in your day. It’s like a small ‘congratulations’ for getting through whatever it was that you got through.” Now you can bet your sweet life that, after I’m finished with this 30-day cleanse, I’ll be congratulating myself regally with a heavenly, exquisite chocolate éclair made with love by the Pie Maker Bakery. a

TELLURIDE

C R E AT I V E S E A S O N A L F A R E Proprietor chef Chad Scothorn

H OT E L C O L U M B I A 970.728.1292

THE

M A K E YO U R R E S E RVAT I O N S AT W W W . C O S M O T E L L U R I D E . C O M

IN THE KITCHEN

HAVE A HEART ... literally | Rachel Turiel

n our long human history, there are those concepts that bounce around the cultural sphere for a brief time and, thankfully, never return: child sacrifice, corsets, unanesthetized surgery, and mullets. Then there are those concepts that rise, fall away, and rebound for a resounding encore: farming without pesticides, Colorado lynx, breastfeeding, and matriarchal societies (okay, still awaiting the latter). And lastly, there are things that have receded in the wake of modernization, and are just now peeking back through the cultural door. I am talking about the consumption of animal testicles, tongues, and brains; about “nose to tail” dining; about organ meats. ORGAN MEATS - A BRIEF HISTORY Organ meat is the catchall term that includes the internal organs of an animal, but also every last beastly bit that your ancestors ate with appreciative gusto. In fact, it was that very language of frugality, scarcity, and intimacy with food, spoken universally for the last 99.9% of human history, that answered the question “What’s for dinner” with the obvious: “Everything you can scrape, cut, peel and pluck off that animal.” For a hunter to reject the mastodon’s brain because it had a gooey texture, or the farmer to discard a pig’s liver because it was, say, strong-tasting, would be akin to you tossing out a portion of your paycheck. Eating the whole animal was not some barbaric culinary practice occurring only in ancient wilderness kitchens. In the mid 20th century, Gerber Baby offered many combinations of strained liver, kidneys and heart, because, as a 1950s ad states, “you can tell a meat-fed baby!” Another Gerber ad, featuring an eager-mouthed baby, inquires: “Does your baby smack his lips when you offer that important Vitamin A food - liver?” My own parents, who, these days, like their white-meat turkey breast sliced and packaged, remember that in their 1950s childhood homes (a crowded Brooklyn tenement, and Long Island suburban ranch house, respectively) liver, tongue sandwiches and kidney pie were weekly fare enjoyed by all. Clearly, something has occurred in the past 0.1% of human history leading many of

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us to flinch when even the idea of eating a lamb testicle is raised. And I’m not immune. For many years, I’ve eaten elk and deer heart, marinated and smoked, tasty and dense, somewhat like a meat vitamin. My son, at seven months old, without a single word or tooth in his head, reached so fervently for a piece of smoked elk heart, there was nothing to do other than acquiesce, trusting the innate, ancient wisdom within his fifteen-pound body. But when elk and deer livers are thawed and flopped into a frying pan of bacon grease? That is a meal consumed by my husband alone. WHAT HAPPENED TO ORGAN MEAT CONSUMPTION? Consumption of organ meat began to decline in the 1970s, as neighborhood butchers were ousted by supermarket prepackaged, grab-and-go cuts of meat, moving the consumer one step farther from their food. And, if time truly is money, then extracting and storing the delicate and singular thymus gland, when there are hundreds of pounds of muscle meat to grind into a homogenous pile, wasn’t worth the cost. Also, in the 1970s many American households transitioned from one parent to both parents working. It’s no wonder working mothers favored quick-cooking boneless chicken breasts over the labor, time and processing required to prepare a whole chicken. The final nail in the offal coffin was the 1980s outbreak of mad cow disease, transferred to humans through consumption of brain, spinal cord and intestines of a sick animal. Turns out feeding meat byproducts to herbivores is a bad idea. Incidentally, the nations which produce entirely grass-fed beef, like Argentina, New Zealand, Australia, Brazil, and Uruguay, had zero mad cow outbreaks. It seems that enjoying organ meats is a lost culinary language. Gerald Swanson, who served the Silverton community for 25 years as butcher at Swanson Market, was able to counsel his customers on how to “pull the raspy part of the cow tongue off.” He could, and still can, provide expert advice on cooking kidneys, liver, brains and the rest. Sure, calf brains “look kind of ghastly,” he admits, “but they’re a delicacy.” Perhaps we no longer have the twin forces of frugality and scarcity informing our culinary choices. Intimacy with our food has been replaced by mass production, a billion-dollar ad business, and a new generation that startles easily. And yet, why is James Ranch, a cattle outfit in Durango, reporting a 50% increase in requests for organ meat in the past three years? THE HEALTH OF THE MATTER Joe Wheeling, partners with his in-laws Kay and Dave James and his wife, Jennifer, in the James Ranch cattle operation, says there are two types of people responsible for the uptick in organ meat sales. Some simply seek the least expensive cut of local, grass-fed meat. The others want the ultra-high and specialized concentrations of nutrients available in grass-fed liver, heart, bones, and kidneys. And yes, even a few cow testicles walk out the door each spring. Holly Zink, owner of Sunnyside Farms Market (operating out of 16 edible SAN JUAN MOUNTAINS WINTER 2013/2014

Nature’s Oasis in Durango), has also noticed the increase in organ meat fanfare. She cites a third reason: people following the European model of dining, which is more tactile and intimate. At Sunnyside Market, you can find local chicken and beef livers, sweetbreads, tongue, heart, kidneys and bones. Carmen Ritz, biologist, physiologist and manager of the Cardiac Care Center at Mercy Hospital in Durango, has, after decades of vegetarianism, put organ meats on the regular menu rotation in her household because they are “the one source (in addition to fish) on our entire planet that can provide every nutrient our bodies need.” Ritz believes that “we’re sick because we’re not eating right.” Ritz says she healed her own host of autoimmune disorders (fibromyalgia, irritable bowel syndrome, allergies, pre-diabetes) by replacing grains with pastured meat and animal fat. Ritz unleashes torrents of alarming statistics about the rise of chronic disease, then switches to encyclopedic inventories about the health-supporting properties of organ meat. She pauses for a clear-eyed, punctuating stare, and follows it all with a winning smile. She is 55 years old and fetching. While all organ meats contain a nutrient gift in an unconventional package, liver (especially grass-fed beef) is the prize fighter, containing, gram-for-gram, more nutrients than any other food. Liver has large amounts of vitamin A Retinol, vitamin K2, multiple B vitamins, EPA and DHA, vitamin C, selenium, niacin, thiamin, folate and iron, which are essential for, well, everything. We don’t typically think of Americans as an under- or malnourished people, and yet the rise of modern disease rates begs the question: what is missing in our diets? Ritz and her partner, Stephen Michel, raise ducks, chickens, turkey, geese and cows. They eat the eyeballs, tongues, brains, bones, lard, joints, tendons, feet, and tails of their animals, all of which contain specific, desirable nutrients not found in high concentrations in mainstream cuts of meat. Picture the entire animal serving as a multi-vitamin for the whole human body. “Brain is like salty, soft cream cheese. Very pleasant,” Ritz says (brain is high in omega-3, a crucial fat most Americans are deficient in). She believes our current epidemic of low vitamin D levels is due to people not getting enough vitamin A Retinol to synthesize vitamin D from the sun. Only 20% of vitamin A, or beta carotene (found in plants), converts to vitamin A Retinol. Where can you find the highest concentrations of vitamin A Retinol? Liver, naturally. For the athletic enthusiasts of the San Juan Mountains, Ritz says, “eat your animal bones and tendons!” Simmering animal bones for a full day (especially knuckle bones) releases the collagen, gelatin, glucosamine and chondroitin that cushion human bones and strengthen joints. Additionally, gelatin seems to actually repair “leaky gut” or intestinal hyperpermeability, a condition which allows undigested food particles to slip through the gut lining and pass directly into the bloodstream, causing the immune system to mount an attack on the body (thus, the term: autoimmune disorder, possibly the least understood and least treatable condition in Western medicine). It is believed that “leaky gut” is responsible for the recent increase in food sensitivities.

THE TASTE OF THE MATTER Most organ meats have a cute doppelganger alias. Lungs are called lights, pig feet are trotters, stomach is tripe, and of course, anyone is more likely to eat a Rocky Mountain Oyster than a bull testicle. Gerald Swanson, Silverton butcher, remembers when people made “a snacky meal” out of pickled pigs feet and a cold beer. And sweetbreads, “out of the neck of a critter,” Swanson says with authority: “those cook up fine and tender.” Rocky Mountain oysters? “Cooked right, they were delicious. A lot of cowboys knew how good they were.” Paul Padilla is a Durango lawyer who doesn’t much care that beef heart contains large amounts of iron, B-12, selenium and riboflavin. He eats organ meat “first and foremost for taste.” He and his wife, Beth, recently braised a beef heart in red wine. “It was phenomenal,” Padilla says, and you can hear the italics in his voice. Liver, Padilla reports dreamily, “is like eating suede. The metallic taste? I absolutely adore it.” Tiffany Godwin, nutritional health coach at Vitamin Cottage in Durango, wanted to love liver. “I tried cooking it with bacon, cutting it up into tiny pieces,” and yet the “ultra mineralized, metallic taste” (the very taste responsible for the vitamins and minerals Godwin is seeking) kept dogging her. Godwin discovered a recipe for liver paté, containing onion, red wine, garlic and “a whole bunch of butter,” making the liver palatable in small daily amounts. “Like a multivitamin,” Godwin says. And if your cholesterol/fat meter is pinging in anxiety, Carmen Ritz will remind you that many of the vitamins in liver are fat-soluble, meaning your grandmother was on to something when she fried liver and onions in lard. Padilla believes that the squeamishness over organ meats is simply a marketing issue. “Everyone wants the peanut butter and jelly cuts of meat, safe and clean.” He recently cooked some sweetbreads for friends, “the most risqué part of it is simply what it is,” (specifically, thymus gland and pancreas). “If people don’t know what it is, guaranteed, they love it.” It appears that, to soar back into national favor, organ meats may require the re-branding that breastfeeding and organic farming have enjoyed. Padilla, citing his wife, maintains that “you can convert people quickly.” Asking Paul Padilla to choose his favorite organ meat is like asking Hugh Hefner to name his favorite

bunny. However, he notes that oxtail (the last segments of the spinal vertebrae) braised with vegetables “is amazing. I don’t know a single person who hasn’t said that’s an amazing dish.”

EPILOGUE I am easily influenced by what the crowd is doing. My house is now filled with the smell of beef bones melting their collagen, gelatin and other health-promoting goodies into broth. I recently decanted five pounds of petal-pink James Ranch pork fat into a half-gallon of rich, odorless, white lard (lard contains 45% monounsaturated fat: the good fat). The chicharróns, the crispy byproduct of lard rendering, taste surprisingly and pleasingly like cookie dough that came back as swine. And the sweetbreads and tongue of a cow beckon from my freezer. They were donated by a friend in the name of research for a brave, or very hungry day. a

IN THE KITCHEN

IT'S NOT JUST CHOPPED LIVER | Lauren Slaff

grew up back east in a Jewish household where we frequently ate, and always enjoyed, all sorts of weird things from pickled herring and gefilte fish to stuffed cow intestines. One of my absolute faves was chopped liver. For clarification, chopped liver is chicken liver (you can use beef) and onions sautéed in plenty of “schmaltz” and “gribenes.” Sounds like a Vaudeville act, but it’s actually the rendered chicken fat that most cooks skim off to make gravy, and the yummy bits at the bottom of the roasting pan. The mixture is pulsed in a food processor with two hard-boiled eggs and a little more schmaltz and smeared on crackers or rye bread as a “nosh.” But let’s get back to the organ at hand. I can’t think of one person who doesn’t have a vivid memory of a torturous liver experience. And by that I don’t mean a rough night at El Rancho. This versatile organ can be quite easily mishandled and thus turned into the dry, mealy pucks of dark and scary childhood food memories. But that is truly such a far cry from the rich, tender results garnered from simple good technique or a great, balanced recipe. Just ask my former Durango High School Culinary Team, who all dramatically balked, as only teenagers can do, at the mere suggestion we include liver in our sustainable chicken-centric competition menu. Who’d have believed they’d find it delicious. Let me break it down for you with the universal liver and onions scenario. I promise if you are willing to give it a try you will feel quite differently about this notorious dish. Select fresh livers, whatever variety you prefer. Calf liver, though hard to find, is a traditional choice for this dish and is more tender than beef liver. But beef liver can be gently pounded between two sheets

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of parchment to tenderize for cooking. Always trim dark spots and sinew from the meat and bring to room temperature. Start with a thick slice of bacon in a cold heavy skillet over lowto-medium heat. When you cook it slowly and turn a couple of times, you will render out the fat and crisp the bacon without burning. Remove from pan, drain and reserve for later. Turn up the heat under the skillet and add a little butter (you can use veggie oil, but at this point, why?) then add the well-seasoned livers. It’s protein, and we always want to season generously with salt and pepper before cooking. Sauté livers, turning once, until each side is nicely browned but the center is still pink and tender. The liver should still be a little “bouncy” to the touch rather than completely firm. Remove to a plate and cover to allow for some rest time for “carryover cooking.” Meanwhile, add a little more butter to the pan if needed, and throw in a big pile of thinly-sliced yellow (for sweetness) and red (for color) onions, caramelizing them slowly over medium heat. Once brown and tender, add a splash of aged balsamic vinegar, a spoonful of dark brown sugar and a pinch of fresh thyme leaves, sautéing until incorporated. Now just smother those warm livers in the steaming onions and accompany with creamy mashed potatoes topped with crumbles of that crispy bacon and chopped green onions and serve with a simple green salad. If you want to go a step further, next time you entertain, liven up your tired cheese platter with a mason jar of smooth, rich liver mousse complimented with some sweet and pungent pear ginger chutney. Your guests’ taste buds will be tantalized for sure. Don’t be surprised if they ask for your liver recipe. a

SIMPLE & SUMPTUOUS LIVER MOUSSE-PATE INGREDIENTS 2 cups chicken livers 2 tablespoons shallots, minced 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, plus ½ cup unsalted butter, melted 1/3 cup good cognac ¼ cup heavy cream 1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves ½ teaspoon salt Pinch of fresh ground pepper Salt and pepper to taste DIRECTIONS To clean liver, remove any dark spots as well as any sinew. Cut the livers into half-inch pieces. Melt the 2 tablespoons butter over medium heat in a sauté pan until foam has subsided. Sauté the livers with the shallots in the melted butter for 2 to 3 minutes, just until the livers are firm, but still rosy inside. Transfer to a blender. Pour the cognac into the same pan and boil it down rapidly until it has reduced to about 3 tablespoons. Transfer it into the blender jar. Add the heavy cream, thyme and seasonings to the ingredients in the blender. Cover and puree at top speed until the liver is a smooth paste. Add the ½ cup melted butter and blend until incorporated. Adjust seasoning to taste. Pack into a bowl or jar and chill for 2 to 3 hours. Serve with grainy bread or crackers and pear chutney.

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PEAR-GINGER CHUTNEY INGREDIENTS 1½ cups cider vinegar 2 cups sugar 1½ pounds firm-flesh pears peeled, cored and diced to ½ inch (I like Anjou, Bosc or even crisp Asian pears as they hold their shape when cooked. We want a chutney, not a sauce.) 3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice 8 garlic cloves 2 ounces fresh ginger, peeled and coarsely chopped 1 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (more if you like the heat) 1 cup golden raisins (“sultanas”), firmly packed 2 tablespoons yellow mustard seeds, toasted in a dry pan until fragrant DIRECTIONS In a large non-reactive saucepan over high heat, bring vinegar and sugar to a boil, stirring until sugar dissolves. Reduce heat and simmer 10 minutes. The aroma will be pretty pungent as the vinegar reduces. Remove from heat. Toss pears and lemon juice in a bowl. Combine garlic, ginger, salt and red pepper in processor and pulse until finely chopped. Add the pear/lemon juice and garlic/etc. mixtures, raisins and mustard seeds to the reduced vinegar. Simmer until pears are tender and chutney thickens, stirring occasionally (about 45 minutes). Remove from heat and transfer to a bowl. Cool, cover, and chill. Can be made one week ahead and stored in the fridge. I think it is tastier with at least one day for the flavors to marry before serving. 19

IN THE FIELD

Jim Graham talks to his cow, Bessie. In turn, Bessie seems to listen.

GRAHAM'S RAW MILK MENAGERIE | Katie Burford

here are many things a city dweller presumes to know about farm life but doesn’t really. For instance, in arranging my interview with dairy farmer Jim Graham via email, I asked what time he gets up. He said no later than 5:00. Great, I wrote, see ya then. In my head, I’d already written the first lines of my story with a description of him milking his animals with frozen breath while the sun crested the horizon to the east. I wore boots and extra layers of clothing just in case. Instead, we sat cozily at the kitchen table drinking coffee until the sun was beating down warmly. He doesn’t milk until around 9 am. So much for my pastoral picture. What I saw instead was Graham, patient and relaxed, sitting at the table stroking the head of his rescue chihuahua who occasionally

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looked up at him with a look of pure adoration and gratitude. As he went into the details of his life, I realized that this picture was as telling of him as the one I had imagined. First, he loves animals. Second, animals love him. Third, objective usefulness isn’t a strict criterion for inclusion in the J&M Dairy menagerie. ANIMAL LOVERS MEET Graham was born in Colorado Springs in 1962 to a military family. He was a premie when doctors knew next to nothing about how to help these early arrivals survive. That this tiny baby clung to life while previous ones succumbed to miscarriage earned him an outsized place in his mother’s heart. He was to be her only child and she showered him with love and, incidentally, fed him raw milk.

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Shortly after finishing high school, he made his way to Durango. By the time he met Margaret Stone in his late 20s, he had already weathered a failed marriage that produced three children. Stone, a Fort Lewis College graduate and CPA, shared his deep affection for animals. Some of her best memories growing up in Nucla were of playing with a nanny goat in her neighbor’s field. Graham jokes that two animal lovers together was a “disaster waiting to happen.” They got goats just to have because they are smart and playful. It wasn’t until 2007, when they acquired 40 acres of unimproved land in the Breen area, that they thought about operating a dairy. Graham’s work experience to that point was wide and varied: tourist bus driver, farm hand, beekeeper, manager at a Hesperus restaurant operated by his mother, security guard, hospital laundry service worker. His last wage-slave job was working the night shift at Walmart because it allowed him to tend the farm during the day. As soon as their first cow, Daisy, was ready to milk, he quit the night job. “That was a long three years,” he says. LEGAL WINDOW Selling raw milk in Colorado in technically illegal. But there is a legislative loophole that makes it possible. Here’s how it works: the consumer signs a contract with a farmer to pay for the care and upkeep of a herd and, as a part owner, is entitled to milk from the animals. One “share” generally gets you a gallon of milk a week. Some farmers do cow shares, some do goat, and some, like Graham, do both. In only a handful of states it is legal to buy raw milk in the store. Other states only allow it to be sold onsite at farms. Several other states have herdshare programs like Colorado. Opponents of consuming raw milk say it can contain harmful and potentially lethal pathogens. Proponents say the pasteurization process, which was first developed in 1864 and involves rapidly heating then cooling the milk, destroys healthful enzymes and probiotics and degrades the flavor. The severity of the contamination risk is influenced by the practices of the farmer. Where the farmer is assiduously sanitary, the risk is greatly reduced. Herdshare programs have been legal in Colorado for less than 10 years. Before that, there were no means for anyone without a dairy animal to get raw milk legally. Members of the Raw Milk Association of Colorado commit to 22 edible SAN JUAN MOUNTAINS WINTER 2013/2014

routine testing of their milk for harmful pathogens. Suzanne Fecteau, owner of DreamAcres Ranch in Larkspur and spokeswoman for the association, said that RMAC aims to bolster public confidence in the safety of raw milk, but it does not police its members. The state does not enforce testing compliance among herdshare operators either. In short, it’s up to the share owners to be informed as to farms’ practices. Graham and Stone’s J&M Dairy and James Ranch operate the only two herdshare programs in La Plata County. (Full disclosure: I’ve been a shareholder with J&M Dairy since June 2012). Of surrounding counties, only Montezuma County has one. James Ranch, better known for its grass-fed beef and artisan cheeses, runs its herdshare program April through November. Cheesemaker Dan James says this is to give cows and their people a rest. During the season, one day’s milking, about 70 gallons, goes to the herdshare program, while the other six days’ yield goes to cheese – the product James calls “milk’s leap toward immortality.” The James Ranch herd feeds on pastures in the lush Animas Valley, while Graham, with much less water on the county’s remote west side, sustains his herd mostly on hay. This makes the economics challenging, especially as persistent drought has driven up the cost and availability of hay. Already this year, Graham and Stone have spent $15,000 and there’s more stocking up to do before winter. Meanwhile, Graham only has about 10 shareholders to help bear the cost. James Ranch has more than three times that with nearly as many on its waiting list. Despite the sacrifices, Graham loves his vocation. “I can see me when I’m 90 years old, saying, ‘Come on, girls, it’s time to milk,’” he says. “I can’t see myself doing anything else. Hopefully I won’t have WWW.TELLURIDEMOBILEMASSAGE.COM to.” a

RELAX, WE’LL COME TO YOU 970-209-2612

TRY IT, YOU'LL LIKE IT | Katie Burford

are you do raw dairy? We do. Every day for various years I have opened my fridge to find nondescript glass jars of milk lining the bottom shelf. The fresh-from-the-farm, whole-fat milk with the cream floating lavishly on top is pretty much the only kind my two children have known. My husband and I choose this route based on our belief in raw milk’s superior taste, nutrition and sustainability. But we understand it’s not the right choice for everyone. We bought our first share of a herd shortly after moving to Durango in 2007. That operation was run by a woman who traded a big city office job and botox for overalls and farm life. Its relentless demands led her to suspend her program after a couple years. Having grown accustomed the taste of fresh milk, we couldn’t go back

to store bought. Our next source was a farmer who was, shall we say, “informal” in his arrangement. We collected our milk from a fridge at the back of his house and left the money in an old coffee can. Unlike the first farm, there was no contract. He later moved, which led us to sign up with J&M Dairy in June 2012. To me, the hallmark of raw milk is its rich creaminess. Next to it, store-bought milk tastes watery and vaguely rancid, no matter how fresh or premium the brand. The color of raw milk is cream rather than bright white. Fresh goat’s milk hardly tastes goaty at all, and is naturally homogenized, so every glass is uniformly thick and silky. Each week, we get two gallons of cow’s milk and one of goat. I use cow’s milk to make yogurt. The goat milk I like to make into chèvre cheese (see recipe on page 25). Both processes aren’t much more complicated than a Betty Crocker cake once you get the hang of it. The result is tastier and cheaper than what I can get in the store. As far as the risks and benefits of raw milk, I can only speak to our experience. In five years, we’ve never had an illness we could link to it. Raw milk proponents credit its enzymes and probiotics with the ability to ward off allergies and intolerances. A Campaign for Raw Milk, an organization that seeks to expand the availability of raw milk, cites several European studies that found raw milk consumption was protective against asthma and allergies. Suzanne Fecteau, spokeswoman for the Raw Milk Association of Colorado, said that someone suggested raw goat's milk for her son's asthma when he was a child. That is what he drank most of his life and he is now a strapping teen without a hint of the disease, Fecteau says. As for my own kids, they haven’t shown signs of any allergies so far and blithely eat dairy, gluten, nuts and all the other food bugaboos that frazzle many of their peers’ parents. Most satisfying of all, however, is having met the animals who provide the milk. And having sat down to coffee with the farmer who, 365 days a year, lovingly cares for them. INFORMATION: Do your due diligence. Because herdshare operators are not regulated by the state, raw milk consumers bear the burden of investigation. Dan James, who oversees the James Ranch dairy program, offered this guidance: - Be wary of farms that won’t let you see all aspects of their operation. “Transparency is a must,” he says. - Ask how the milk is cooled. A cold water bath gets milk out of the temperature danger zone faster than regular refrigeration. - Ask about the farmer’s experience. Proper care and handling of raw milk takes time, patience and practice. - Ask how the milk is handled. Are jars sanitized after they are returned? Is there a dedicated milking facility with floors that are easily cleaned? James advises that consumers “kind of want an anal retentive dairy farmer.” a

DO IT YOURSELF PANTRY

STOP BUYING AND START MAKING: YOGURT | Rachel Turiel

ou don’t have to stop shaving your legs or acquire your own backyard chickens to become the kind of person who makes their own yogurt. If you think making yogurt is a complicated chemistry project, I assure you it’s crazy easy and the money you save on foregoing store-bought yogurt and razors will be enough startup capital for your new chicken flock. I make a half gallon of yogurt a week, which might sound like the national dairy council has been to our house with their persuasive footmen lecturing about the dangers of rickets. But, it’s just as easy to make one cup as a half gallon, and those bonegrowing children of mine, who request a “bedtime snack” five minutes after dinner’s over, will always accept a bowl of plain creamy yogurt. Yogurt has long been touted as a health food – as it should be (hello calcium and probiotics!) – but most commercially available flavored yogurts have almost as much sugar ounce for ounce as Coca-Cola. Additionally compelling about making my own yogurt is bypassing the stackable plastic containers that once towered sheepishly in my cupboard like a tribute to petroleum products and the landfill they’ll be hanging out in for the next 1000 years. Plus, you suddenly feel as if you have staff! While you’re kicking back, millions of microorganisms are making your next meal. a Supplies Stock pot Candy or instant read thermometer Milk (not “ultra pasteurized”) Glass jars and lids Yogurt or starter culture Directions ~makes 1/2 gallon~ Heat one-half gallon of milk to 180F while stirring intermittently. Take off heat and cool (in fridge is quickest, but on countertop is okay) to between 115F and 120F. Pour milk into 2 quart glass jars. Add 2 tablespoons plain yogurt (either from a previous batch or from a brand that advertises live cultures) to each jar and cap. Warm oven by turning to lowest temperature for two minutes (set your timer), then turn off. Place jars in oven with oven light on. The light should provide enough heat to keep the culturing yogurt between 95F and 120F. (This is the ideal temperature range for the cultures to multiply. Too hot and they die, too cold and they go to sleep). Wrap the jars in a towel for extra warmth. Leave jars for a minimum of 6 hours, maximum overnight, then transfer to fridge.

24 edible SAN JUAN MOUNTAINS WINTER 2013/2014

TIPS Use the cream if you’re buying raw milk. It comes out, well, creamier. If your milk is homogenized, the cream is already mixed into full fat milk. Add fruit or honey after your yogurt is done. Don’t jostle yogurt jars as they’re culturing. You can use store-bought milk with great success, just don’t use “ultra-pasteurized.” If you’re using raw milk and want to keep your yogurt raw, you can heat the milk just to 115F, and then add the yogurt starter right away. Because you’re not starting with a sterilized product and there will be unknown and prolific bacteria present, you may have less consistent (read: runny) results with yogurt, or not. Give it a try. Many people find they have to buy yogurt starter or fresh yogurt to inoculate the milk after about 6-8 batches. I personally haven’t found this to be true.

Chèvre

| Katie Burford

Ingredients 1 gallon fresh goat's milk 1 packet chèvre cheese culture* Salt to taste Directions Heat milk in a pot to 86 degrees. Remove from burner, add culture, and let sit for a couple minutes to dissolve. Stir, then cover and let sit at room temperature. After about four hours, a thick curd will have formed on top. If it hasn't, give it a little longer. Next, strain curds out the whey. I do this by ladling the curds with a slotted spoon into a jelly strainer bag on a stand (available anywhere they sell canning supplies). Let the curds strain until the cheese reaches your desired consistency. For me, waiting about 12 hours produces a cheese that is thick enough to dollop on pizza but creamy enough to spread on bread. Remove from bag, mix in salt (I use 2 teaspoons) and herbs, if you like. This makes about a pound. Refrigerate in an airtight container. Good for a couple of weeks. * I order culture online from the New England Cheesemaking Supply Co. See their website, www.cheesemaking.com, for detailed instructions on making many varieties of cheese.

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Pepper finger paints with purple majesty potatoes from Rohwer's Farm.

IT'S LOCAL, BABY ! | Jess Kelley

er six-month birthday came before I was ready. At six months we were to start feeding our daughter solid foods. Suddenly it seemed, ready or not, that egg yolk was heading into her mouth. The mother in me wondered, what if she immediately goes into anaphylactic shock? (She didn’t.) The nutrition therapist in me wondered, is that egg yolk the absolute best egg yolk I could find? (I wasn’t 100% sure.) So her first bite sparked what became an OCD pursuit of trying to source the most nutrient-dense varieties of baby food ingredients – 67% of which ended up on the floor – I could possibly find. A hunt that kept me within 20 miles of home, and yielded foods that ended up surpassing my standard of nothing but the best for my little girl, Pepper. Modern research-based nutrition suggests baby’s first foods should include pastured egg yolks, grass-fed and -finished bone marrow and broth, fermented cod liver oil, organic bananas, sweet potatoes, carrots, squashes, apples, and avocados. But here’s where it gets thorny: the bagged organic orange carrots from California are nowhere near as nutrient-dense as the Cosmic Purple carrots grown at Rohwer’s farm 26 edible SAN JUAN MOUNTAINS WINTER 2013/2014

in Pleasant View. In fact, the disease-fighting anthocyanins (pigments responsible for the red, purple, and blue colors of certain fruits and vegetables) have been bred out of orange carrots. Local carrots it was. There are, of course, the palpable economic and environmental reasons for buying locally-sourced plants and animals. But when I started comparing the nutrient densities of the organic New Zealand apple vs. the smaller crabapples I snagged off the ground in the park, there was a stark difference. When produce doesn’t have to travel, it isn’t subjected to a) Pre-ripe harvesting that prevents nutrient levels from peaking, b) Aspiration (nutrient depletion) that begins the instant of harvest, and c) Ethylene gases used to promote ripening during transit. Lucky for Pepper, farming in La Plata County is as trendy as tattoos and horn-rimmed glasses in Southern California. So as I mentioned, egg yolks were her first food. Research supports this choice because they contain high amounts of healthy fat and protein, which a baby can digest, and zinc and choline which are critical for brain development. (Babies do not develop the enzymes

needed to break down grains until between 1 year and 18 months. Sorry, Cheerios.) I wanted unequivocally to make sure the egg she consumed did not come from chickens fed genetically-modified feed as research is now proving that GMO foods are contributing to the autism epidemic, among other diseases (Entropy Journal, April 2013 “Glyphosate’s Suppression of Cytochrome P450 Enzymes and Amino Acid Biosynthesis by the Gut Microbiome: Pathways to Modern Diseases” by Anthony Samsel and Stephanie Seneff). But outside of the health food store’s eight-dollar carton of pastured eggs from Texas, finding a non-GMO egg was tough. The great egg hunt unfolded in the most dazzling way…. I discovered duck eggs at Old Orchard Farm, four miles down the road from my house. Started by an enthusiastic group of 20-somethings, Old Orchard Farm is resurrected farmland complete with egg-laying ducks. I bought a six-pack of these large white beauties after farmer Austin Gorton informed me they were more nutritious than chicken eggs. Ummm, did this bespectacled junior just school the nutrition therapist? Yes. I confirmed his claim after scouring a USDA nutrient database for comparative amino acid and lipid profiles. An added bonus is that those who are allergic to chicken eggs can often tolerate duck eggs. Second score for local food. Now, benefits aside, these were weird, so I fed them to Pepper first. And since she actually opened her mouth for them, they have made their way into my baking projects – the extra protein gives a needed lift to grain-free breads. It’s said that kids will teach you as much as you teach them. I always thought that was a dumb thing to say, but now it appears I’m eating my words in a duck egg frittata. As many a new mom in Durango might tell you, there is not much else to do with an infant beyond watching daytime TV and stroller cruising the Animas River Trail. As summer turned to fall and Pepper and I were logging what felt like our 2,885th mile, I noticed something. Apple trees. Apples on the ground. Free apples on the ground. Those with the least bumps and bruises were quickly shoved into the undercarriage of the Bob stroller. Planted by the City of Durango approximately 10 years ago, these crabapples were from a flowering breed called the Almey (Malus hybrida). As luck would have it, Malus hybrid apples are more nutrientdense than the Malus Domestica species, which we've bred to be bigger and sweeter. In fact, the Almey’s Nepalese cousin, Malus Sikkimensis, boasts nearly one hundred times more phytonutrients than our beloved Fuji (Malus Domestica). Beyond corrective pruning, the Almey tree I found along the Opie Reems Nature Trail section has not been treated with chemicals at all. Organic? “Pretty much,” confirmed Ron Stoner, City Arborist for the City of Durango. So I had found perfect, bursting-with-nutrients apples to make applesauce with. I thought I was really smart until I got home and stared at this huge pile of really small apples. This is going to take way too much time, I thought. I’m weeks behind on my emails, and about the same with the dirty laundry. Are these apples really that much better than the organic jar at the health food store? The answer,

of course, is yes; research has shown that you would have to eat at least two long-stored apples to get the nutrient benefits of one freshlypicked apple. I started peeling. Pepper threw the final product on the floor. I needed the next food for Pepper, as every three to four days you can introduce a new food. This created a lot of creative pressure, especially on the meat front. First, when it comes to animal or animal by-products, organic simply isn't good enough anymore. Organic can simply mean that cows are fed organic corn and soy. Which we all know is not their natural diet. Beyond that, many products might claim grass-fed, but that doesn’t necessarily mean grass finished, and research has shown that even 30 days of grain eating can completely change the fatty acid composition of the meat so it becomes more inflammatory (Nutrition Journal, 2010 “A review of fatty acid profiles and antioxidant content in grass-fed and grain-fed beef ” by Daley, Abbott, Doyle, Nader, Larson). Since we don’t have access to the ocean (read: fresh wild-caught salmon), we went with the next best source of protein containing omega-3 fatty acids: grass-fed and -finished beef. James Ranch. We had ordered a quarter of beef last spring, and picked up our loot one brilliant fall afternoon right before the first deep frost of the season. They threw in an extra liver when I said I’d be feeding it to Pepper. Yes, liver is absolutely a super food for babies. She loves it. I am embarrassed to admit I haven’t mustered the courage to try it yet. Odd smell. After duck eggs, crabapples, and grass-fed beef liver, the quest continued. We found local pumpkins so deeply tasteful, that when mixed with coconut milk and cinnamon, Pepper couldn’t seem to get enough. And then there were the Red Ace beets from Stubborn Farm that transformed her face into that of a little vampire. The Purple Majesty potatoes (also from Rohwer’s Farm) that are substantially lower in sugar, higher in protein and antioxidants, were without the fungicides, insecticides and sprout inhibitors that come with the grocery store’s sweet potatoes. So far, Pepper has eaten pretty well, and no anaphylactic shock. So sorry if I haven’t emailed you back. Turns out feeding, and cleaning up after, my 21-pound experiment has been pretty time consuming. a

Photo by Ryan Bonneau

WINE + CHEESE + CURED MEATS + TELLURIDE = A PERFECT WINTER REFUGE

| D. Dion

aura Coulter is a cheese wiz, and not the orange kind that comes in a can. If there were such a thing as a master cheese sommelier, she would hold that title. She is the ultimate connoisseur; she doesn’t just know what she likes, she knows what you like. After describing three of the most popular varieties of her artisanal cheeses, she hands me a thin slice of one, and I’m amazed. It lives up to her description: a hard cheese with a creamy taste, milky, with almost a little nuttiness. “It’s the third one, right?” I ask. She nods and smiles. It’s the Ossau-Iraty, an incredible French cheese made from sheep’s milk, and is easily the best cheese I’ve ever tasted. Maura Coulter and her daughter, Hallie Coulter Conlin, opened the charcuterie and cheese shop “Over the Moon” in Telluride in July of 2012. They already have a dedicated tribe of customers, and seem to know everyone that comes through the door by name. They also know them by taste. As soon as someone walks in, the mother-daughter team reaches around in the deli cases to slice something special, one of their cured meats or unique cheeses, that they know will suit the person perfectly. “I like building the relationships with customers and learning their tastes. I get excited to share something new that I know they’ll like,” says Hallie. Over the Moon is not just a shop, it’s an experience. Maura grew up in Boston, where there are lots of little neighborhood markets with special ethnic foods, and she and her daughter have created a similar vibe in the small, chic Telluride space. It’s sort of like being in the kitchen of one of your girlfriends. You and your friends sit at a large, 28 edible SAN JUAN MOUNTAINS WINTER 2013/2014

cozy wooden table and Maura and Hallie bring out an array of cheeses, fine olives, and cured meats, and pour everyone a glass of wine. Not sure what you like? Sample the wild boar salami, the heirloom Berkshire prosciutto, or the shaved, air-dried beef. Try the burrata, a soft-centered mound of cream and mozzarella, or the “champagne of cheeses,” Nocciolo, made of goat, sheep and cow milk. Taste the fleshy, country olives or the small, salty, and oily nicoise variety. Just like your friend’s kitchen, it is the perfect place to duck in on a snowy afternoon and share some wine, appetizers, and conversation. Of course, when you sit in the kitchen at your friend’s house, you are not going to be able to sample and choose from 50 or so types of cheese. Nor would you be able to shop for a gourmet dinner. At Over the Moon, you can find everything from gluten-free pasta in a rainbow array of phyto-colors to stone-ground heirloom grain grits, or refill your glass bottle from the steel dispensers of cold-pressed organic Tuscan olive oil. If it is so unique that you can’t find it in a supermarket, and so desirable that you have to have it, then it’s probably at Over the Moon. Like the Roccia Viva olive oil, harvested from the wild olive trees that surround the Silverado vineyard in Napa Valley. As with many of the specialty items, it has a local connection or purveyor: a Telluride couple owns the vineyard and produces the oil. “We went to school with their daughters,” says Hallie. “Almost everything we carry has a story.” And like all good stories, they are best heard over a glass of wine and a delectable plate of things to nibble on. a

VEG AND BACK AGAIN: A TALE OF DIETARY (RE)TR ANSFORMATION

| Erin Jolley

hen I was 13 years old, I declared mine a meatless existence. And being the precocious girl I was, becoming a vegetarian was yet another way I could challenge traditional family values, claim independence, and distinguish myself from the “lame stream” to become a righteous, eco-friendly, health-conscious crusader. I loaded up on PETA paraphernalia (think dark, blurry photos of caged animals and dreary feedlots). Wanting my fellow middleschoolers to know the truth about their Chicken Wings of Torture and their Corndogs of Cruelty, I would stand at the end of the cafeteria table, waving PETA propaganda in the air, assuring everyone that vegetarianism was the healthiest, most natural way to live. Then, I would quietly take my seat and finish my lunch of strawberry milkshake-dunked French fries. I was steadfast: all veg, all the time. But that doesn’t mean I was eating actual vegetables regularly. Instead, I was indulging in all the I-can’t-believe-it’s-not-meat foods I could get my hands on: tofu dogs, Fakin' Bacon, unchicken nuggets, Boca burgers, and – my personal holiday favorite – Tofurkey. Nope, nothing evokes holiday spirit like a giant, mechanically-separated-then-reassembled rubbery ball of soy protein. THE “MEATING” After moving to Durango, Colorado, in 2007, I became instantly fascinated with the “locavore” movement. It was such a radical leap from my hometown of Las Vegas, Nevada, where eating local was not yet reinvented or possible. Unless you count golf course grass or highrise condos, there wasn’t much growing in Vegas. In Durango, I began questioning the idea of a meat-free, anything-else-goes diet. Although well-intentioned, my food choices were largely guided by what I did NOT eat, rather than the integrity, wholesomeness, food-system footprint, and nutritional value of what I DID eat. I thought as long as I abstained from meat, I was in the clear. After all, I reasoned, gummy bears aren't made from real bears, so they're a totally legitimate lunch. My continued fascination with local food led me to work on an organic farm and visit many other farms in southwest Colorado. One such visit was to James Ranch, where I experienced what I affectionately refer to as “the meating of a lifetime.” My fellow farmies and I spent the day volunteering in the garden and touring the entire property, including the grass-fed cattle and raw-cheese-making facilities. As we observed the pigs running – nay, frolicking – in their gorgeous green pasture, I couldn’t help but admire their beauty, charm and undeniable appeal. I was smitten, but also surprised: this was nothing like the blackand-white images of caged animals I had fervently brandished in the middle school cafeteria – the scripture upon which my faith in vegetarianism was based. Was the vegetarian god a false one? Here were 30 edible SAN JUAN MOUNTAINS WINTER 2013/2014

healthy, happy pigs, probably much cleaner than I was at the time, in a setting that inspired new ideas about what it means to be the ecofriendly, health-conscious consumer I had strived to be for so long. Of course, in the exact moment of the pig encounter, I had not yet fully formed any such insights. I only remember gazing at one of those glorious hogs and whispering, almost involuntarily, “I could totally eat you.” The very next day, my house filled with the distinct aroma of bacon fresh from James Ranch. How to describe the smell of thick sliced, smoked, salty bacon? I was like a______ being beckoned to a ______. (It’s almost impossible to find the right metaphor; conversely it seems that all metaphors for attraction should be based on the smell of bacon.) Before I knew what hit me, I'd lost all grip of who and where I was and became conscious only of the thick, juicy, salty, crunchy, fatty piece of bacon swirling around my well-salivated mouth. The rest was history: there was no turning back. Adapting to my new life in the agriculturally-steeped southwest Colorado fundamentally changed the way I related to food. I learned a new expression of what it means to be a health-conscious steward of the earth who is sensitive to not just the “what,” but the “where” and “who” behind our meals. And to me, that meant eating animals with names, from people I know, living on land I love. EAT, LOVE, PREACH For me, and for many of us, eating is not just an act of survival. We do not simply eat to live, but rather to celebrate, commune, embody, connect, express, and share our values. Food is one way we define who we are and express our vision for the world. For many years, I identified with the fact that I did not eat meat. Given the stink I'd raised about it with friends and family, I had to wash that blessed bacon down with a bit of pride punch. I was no longer unique in that particular way. I had joined the carnivorous empire just like everyone else. Was vegetarianism just a silly phase? Was I now conforming, joining the “real world” and thus, was I no longer myself? Not quite. My original values – animal rights, environmental stewardship and physical health – are still very much intact. It took an afternoon on a progressive family farm combined with a deeper understanding of our local food system to manifest the carnivorous tendencies I now freely enjoy. I encourage everyone to stay curious about food and how we use it to tell the story of who we are. And to reconsider a diet grounded solely in what you don’t eat vs. a diet that’s conscientiously inclusive. Meat or no meat, my invitation to you is to remain open to new information, to stay dynamic in our food-borne philosophies and, most importantly, to enjoy! a

MASSAGE

WELLNESS DIRECTORY

DeVere Keen Gamble

CLINICS

COUNSELING

Body of Work: Health Clinic

Joanie Trussel

DeVere unwinds your body and resets your nervous system by integrating premium massage with cranio-sacral therapy. Her unique, intuitive treatments result in optimal wellness and vitality for your whole person. More than twelve years of experience. (970) 946 1051 keengamble.durango@gmail.com

We are an integrated health clinic specializing in chiropractic, the Rolf Method, acupuncture, cranial sacral, and hyperbaric medicine. Call today to setup a complimentary consultation www.bodyofworkco.com (970) 764 4244

Nancy L Robinson, NCTMB, LMT

Our unique approach is based on the understanding that each patient is an individual whose state of well being is immediately affected by his or her lifestyle which includes diet, habits, emotions, attitude and environment. (970) 247 2043 www.namastehealthcenter.com

Licensed, Nationally Certified Massage Therapist since 2007. Specializing in techniques to help restore the body to an optimal state of health and well-being. Modalities include: Neuromuscular Therapy ("NMT"), Deep Tissue, Swedish, Sports and Prenatal massage. (970) 946 8914 www.nancyrobinson.massagetherapy.com

Telluride Mobile Massage

Since 1999, Telluride Mobile Massage has been providing quality therapeutic table and chair massage services at homes, hotel rooms, condos, businesses, special events and even on the ski mountain! www.telluridemobilemassage.com (970) 209 2612

Relax Durango Massage Deirdre Karger, CMT

Offering relaxing massage that is tailored to your needs and addresses both the physical and energetic bodies for an integrated massage experience. (970) 946 5352 deirdre@relaxdurango.com www.relaxdurango.com

CRANIAL SACRAL Ananda Foley

Ananda's craniosacral therapy sessions offer deep relaxation, gentle unwinding of strain patterns in the body and intuitive soul support. Specializing in life-transitions, trauma release and maternal/ infant wellness. Clients often say it's "the missing piece" in helping them gain more benefit from their other healing therapies. www.anandafoleystudio.com (970) 403 5402

HERBS Dancing Willow Herbs

We offer the finest selections of ethically wildcrafted and organically grown herbs and herbal products in the Southwest. We are committed to providing herbal preparations of the highest quality. 1018 Main Ave Durango (970) 247 1654

Namaste Health Center

ACUPUNCTURE Sydney Cooley

Providing gentle, compassionate acupuncture for many conditions, Sydney specializes in women's health, digestive disturbances, and allergies. Her treatments help people connect with their deeper selves and activate their fullest healing potential. Practicing in Durango since 2006. 1040 Main Ave, upstairs. (970) 426 8736 www.myacupuncturedurango.com.

The Heart Path, Healing Mind, Body and Spirit From a Buddhist perspective my practice is about assisting clients to see their life situations with greater clarity and develop awareness and compassion for themselves. (970) 759 6606 www.joanieptrussel.com

SPAS Signature Salon/Spa/Med Spa

The professionals at Signature will take you from the everyday to the extraordinary. From fantastic nails to luxurious skin and body treatments that will both relax and invigorate you. www.signaturedurango.com (970) 247 7769

Interested in being in our Wellness Directory ?

Wellspring Acupuncture & Oriental Medicine David Konikowski, L.Ac, Dipl.C.H.

Providing individualized solutions for your health concerns - from quick and effective symptom resolution to slowing chronic degenerative disease. 2530 Colorado Ave, Suite 2A (970) 382 0321 david@acupuncturewellspring.com www.acupuncturewellspring.com

MIDWIFERY

Ahmavine Midwifery

Carole Nighswander specializes in normal pregnancy, childbirth, postpartum and well-woman care. She has achieved excellence in MotherBaby care for over 10 years and lovingly offers homebirth, water birth, breastfeeding support and natural therapeutics. Complimentary interview. (970) 749 6318 www.ahmavinemidwifery.com

Southwest Midwives

We specialize in normal pregnancy and birth, providing midwifery and well-woman care for the Four Corners area. Our philosophy includes providing women with competent, complete, personal and sensitive care. (970) 247 5543 1 Mercado Street, Durango, Suite 145

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outtakes

presents

Coming to PBS Television in Winter 2013 Check Your Local Listings or go to ediblefeast.com