Downtown Farmers Market

First of the season!

Say what you want about Iowans, but don't say that they lack appreciation for the Spring and Summer. Around this time the entire landscape seems to erupt with joyous celebration for the warmer climes. Tulips erupt out of the ground like rockets, barbeques are lit with haste and Iowans look forward to the agriculture on display at the market.

Such was the case this Saturday at the first official Downtown Des Moines Farmers Market, held in DSM's Court Avenue district. As you can see, the courthouse presided over the masses of people who came out to see the (admittedly meager) offerings of the farmers after such a cold and depressing winter.

However, come out they did, and the farmers market tried its hardest. LIve musicians played at corners and a variety of food vendors were on hand, including quite a few of my friends.

My first stop was to the Niman Ranch booth, where Larry Cleverly was handling the grill- cooking some delicious Niman sausages, bacon and chops which he fed to Jim, my FM companion, and myself. Dripping with grease and hot off the grill they were the perfect way to start a day.

From there, we drifted down to the booth of La Mie, my favorite bakery (ever) where they were selling sumptuous pastries and delectable savories, such as the baguettes pictured above. Bonus: I got to shake the hand of Joe Logsdon, the amazing baker behind the flour power of La Mie. I don't think I will wash that hand ever again; it was like talking to a demigod of the baking world.

Just down the road Lois Reichert, the wonderful woman behind Reichert's Dairy Air goat cheese dairy, was selling her cheese. Actually, business was pretty dull when I got there. She had sold out of all of her flavored chevre's, her robiola and her feta. All that remained was a culinary joy ride: a coffee infused chevre topped with a chocolate ganache. It was delish though, and we had a fun time catching up. She is looking forward to the end of the kidding season: her goats have been popping kids out gangbuster style: she recently had to deliver quintuplets! Let me relate to you a notable exchange:

Lois: So far the most interesting thing I have learned how to do is to dilate a cervix manually

Me: Wow!

Lois: It wasn't that hard- just common sense really.

I will keep that in mind the next time I see a cervix in need of dilation- I will just use my common sense.

While I focused my attention mainly on my friends among the farmers, there were a variety of wonderful restaurants. including the above Salvadorean place. They had a link at least 20 people long for the duration of the market, as they churned out papusas and canele (I think thats the name): fried plantain covered with sweetened condensed milk and raisins. I didn't have one, but they looked good!

Jams were well represented- this lady had at least 20 types, if not more!

Des Moines does not lack for amazing Indian, as Saloo's showed. Jim told me that they have been an installation since the first market. Everything looked fresh fresh fresh!

Equally authentic were the pastries on display at the booth of the Strudl Haus in Altoona (www.strudlhaus.com). They had a variety of Austrian style pastries that hearkened me back to Berlin. Frequent readers will remember that I believed the Northern countries (Denmark and Germany) to have the superior pastry making style, and Strudl Haus' wares reminded me that I do favor those hearty dense concoctions, jammed with berries.

Less authentic, but no less delicious, was the assembly line of Farmboy burritoes. As you can see, proud Iowans cooked huge pans of eggs, bacon, potatoes and sausages to keep up with the insatiable breakfast burrito demands of block-long line of hungry Farmers Market patrons.

My friend Boonie, upper left, looked at the double pans of bacon, a wistful look in his eyes.

With the farmers market winding down around 12:30, Jim and I adjourned to Centro, one of my fave places in the city. George Formaro, thew owner, pioneered an 850 degree pizza oven in this upscale Italian joint. I could taste the difference in the amazing pizza margherita I had.

George started his career as a baker, and he grasps the fundamental importance of a great crust. The pizza was basically incredibly good bread, that he been zazzed up with some excellent fresh mozzarella, delectable tomatoes (not too much!) and a sprinkle of fresh basil. The crust was crispy, delicious and overall FLAVORFUL. All pizza makers should take note: a flavorful and crisp crust is everything! The toppings are just enhancements! Take care of the crust first, and then a delicious pizza will follow.

As you can see, the pizza was the best type of simple: good ingredients, unadorned, produced a superior pie.

Simplicity was not the name of the game for the Kill Bill sandwich. Bill Overdyke, the executive chef of Centro, had pioneered this sandwich for a, lets just say different type of gourmet. Whereas I prefer the simple elegance of the Pizza Margherita, some prefer this:

On top of a delicious bun was a breaded and fried pork tenderloin, shaved Niman Ranch ham, bacon, pepper-jack cheese and an egg. All together, these things were too busy- it had no cohesion. As Jim and I discussed, the sandwich was best when pared down into 3 separate meals. It was an amazing tenderloin sandwich, a great ham and cheese and superb bacon and eggs. Together? Not so much. I can't say I was a fan. The wait staff all seemed to adore it though, and gave me suspicious looks when I professed my love of the Margherita instead. They gave me looks as if to say, "We have a traitor in our midst".

Niman Ranch

I enjoy farm visits. I love tromping through the fields, seeing where the ingredients which I use to cook everyday are grown, that kind of thing. But what I enjoy the most is meeting the farmers. I have yet to meet a farmer who hasn't embraced me immediately as their best friend, piling my car with food.

The Willis', who are the founders of Niman Ranch Pork Company, took this hospitality and friendliness to a whole other level.

I should have known this; I have heard from numerous sources that Paul Willis, the orginal founder, was "a really great guy" who, I was assured by multiple people, I would love. I unfortunately did not get to meet Paul, but I had a fortuitous meeting with his equally-generous daughter Sarah at an event in Des Moines, which culminated with one of the most pleasant farm visits I have participated in.

I should start off with some history of Niman Ranch and what it means to be their "pork company". Niman Ranch retails a variety of meats and products; all sorts of beef, lamb and pork. Their business model is based off of helping small farmers, who sell their product (which must be raised in accordance with the tenets of Niman Ranch) to Niman. Niman then transports it and retails it to stores like Whole Foods and Trader Joes.

So to say Paul Willis "founded" the Niman Ranch Pork company is a bit disingenuous. Really, as Sarah explained to me, it was more of a bet that Paul had with Bill Niman. Bill was, at the time, getting his pork from a small farmer in Northern California. At a party the two men met and (allegedly) Paul attested that his pork was better than whatever Bill was getting. Paul followed through and mailed some of the pork from his farm out to Bill, who was forced to agree: Iowa pork is the best. And thus Iowa became pork central for Niman Ranch, and eventually much of the United States.

Paul and his farming practices fit naturally into the Niman umbrella. Paul had been pioneering free-range farming for a long time before he met Bill and was, like many Iowans, a sensible individual: he didn't think it was right to add antibiotics straight into the pig's food. Free range farming, without antibiotics, is now a cornerstone of the philosophy that all 620 pork farmers in Iowa who produce for Niman must follow. And it all started with Paul.

So, needless to say, I was excited on the ride to Thornton, where the Willis' still live. Along for the ride I had my esteemed friend Jim Duncan, who instead of being a deadbeat college student avoiding work, is an actual writer. We spent the time discussing, as are wont to do, food.

After a few wrong turns we arrived at the picturesque farm where it had all started. The farm was probably much improved by what was becoming one of the finest days I have yet encountered in Iowa: sunny, clear as a bell and warm. Sarah welcomed us warmly and showed us around the farmhouse, which was once the Willis' home but has now become a dedicated set of offices.

We walked around the interior, oohing and aahing at the pictures of chefs (signed) and the map on the wall which showed, via push pin, the locations of the numerous small farmers which comprise Niman Ranch's pork producers. We talked for a long time about NR's policies, but it really can be summed like this: the pigs raised by the Willis' only have one bad day in their life. And they are working on making even that day better. Sarah ushered Jim and I out back to demonstrate with a live example.

My first question, when I saw the fields where the pigs are raised, was how the pigs didn't run away. From a distance the fields simply look like a collection of cozy aluminum sheds. When I got closer, I realized that all that was needed to keep the pigs in was one length of electric wire strung about 12 inches off the ground. Why would the pigs want to go anywhere anyway?

It was peaceful out on the fields. The sows laid happily in their sheds, nursing adorable litters of piglets. We walked around quietly, simply observing the pigs in their element. Piglets ran around, while the mothers would occasionally run around playing with them as well. Although I have heard of pigs as some of the more ornery animals, I realized that these pigs at least did not conform to that image.

Sarah explained to me, as we quietly, reverently almost, strolled among the pigs, that their pigs are different. All piglets of a certain cohort are raised together, so that they were all of about the same age. For example, all the pigs (not the sows) in each enclosure were of an age. Pigs are social animals; this structure lets them thrive. Additionally Niman does not dock their pigs' tail nor cut their teeth. Normally this is done so as to prevent pigs from biting each others tails. It turns out that this is only necessary when the pigs are stressed: Niman Ranch pigs need no such treatment.

As you can see, the pigs seemed more concerned with scratching themselves in the beautiful Iowa sunshine than being aggressive. I approve.

Even the piglets roam around fearlessly; they were absolutely adorable!

This free-range lifestyle translates into better meat: happy pigs, apparently, do make better pork. The breeds of pigs used (farmers hybrid and berkshire)are more hearty and also more fatty than the lean "other white meat" pig varieties used by factory farm producers, such as Hormel. These pigs develop meat that is full of intramuscular fat from a life full of frolicking.

Each sow gets her own enclosure, which is filled with straw.

The sows felt free, after a while, to frolic with their little piglets in our presence.

At length, we were getting cold and Sarah took us over to the "dream farm", where her father Paul and mother Phyllis live currently. Paul, unfortunately, was in California, but Phyllis was generous and kind enough for any 5 people. The reason it is called the dream farm, by the way, is because it is surrounded by 140 acres of virgin prairie. The Willis' had just finished burning it, but already shoots of wildflowers were poking through. I can only imagine how beautiful it is during the summer, when Phyllis and Paul can sit on their porch, listen to the frogs in the pond and the chickens in the yard, while the fireflies dance about the flowers. Amazing, I am sure.

Phyllis' chickens, like their pigs, are also free-range. As you can see, they make their nests everywhere. When we went for a ride in that truck later, we first removed 2 eggs.

It really was a magical visit. I don't think I have ever met people who live their own philosophies as effortlessly at the Willis' do. I hope they, and Niman Ranch, continue to thrive.

Applecart Orchards: Vinton, Iowa

Quick: how many different varieties of apples can you name in 10 seconds? I'll try as well.

Golden Delcious

Red Delicious

Gala

Braeburn

Fuji

Pink Lady

And...stop. How many did I get, 6? And I know my apples. Over at Applecart Orchards, Allen Isreal grows over 35 varieties of apples-from standards like red delicious and gala's to more esoteric varieties, such as arkansas black and blushing goldens. That isn't all his 35 acres contains though- he also manages to grow 4 varieties of peaches and 7 varieties of pears (of those, he has 5 different varieties of asian pears). Even the winter is no barrier to biological diversity over at Applecart. In his 2 greenhouses he grows 7 or 8 different varieties of lettuce, esoteric vegetables (kohlrabi, bak choi) and more tomatoes than I could even imagine. Allen didn't brag about the orchard of eden he has created on his small farm in Vinton, just west of cedar rapids, although as I strolled around the orchard, I could feel his pride in the variety by which he was surrounded.

I should back up and mention the mechanism by which I met Allen: at a winter farmers market Iowa City. When I walked by his orchard's stand, I was dazzled by the array of apples. As I talked to him, I realized that he was a man who knew, not just the names of his apples, but the flavors as well. When I asked him about what type of apple to get, he peppered me with questions like "Do you like sweet or tart apples?" and "How do you feel about _______" where the blank would, invariably, be an off the road variety which I barely knew. As I left, I was sure to snag his card, confident that the hour and a half drive to Vinton would be worth it, even if he didn't have any more than the 6 or 7 varieties of apples he had with him that day.

Anyway, when I arrived at the farm last Thursday I was not disappointed. He took me briefly through the store, which also houses an apple sorter and a cider press, in the back. In the storage room he asked me what type of apple I would like, red delicious or blushing golden, and I grabbed the latter. And thus, chomping happily on the fruit (I later found out it had been in storage since october-some apples are still good up to a year later with careful storage) we walked into the greenhouse, which contained the aforementioned sprouts of various lettuces, tomatoes, herb and vegetables.

Above: The apple sorter. It sorts apples.

In the warm, humid air of the greenhouse Allen explained the variety of lettuces he was growing, along with well informed editorials about their flavor. I was amazed he could even remember the names of all the plants, let alone their culinary qualities. He showed me a few new varieties he was trying; mostly exotics like kohlrabi, red bak choi and sweet basil (also called thai basil). Multiple times, he invited me to grab a little seedling and bite the top of it off to taste a particularly unique flavor. it was a grand old time.

Above: Tons of lettuce! Or at least tons of lettuce sprouts. Note the variety.

Above: A tender shoot of red romaine lettuce, just before I popped it into my mouth. Nom nom nom!

As we exited the greenhouse and walked through the rows of gnarled apple trees, he talked about the pruning process; something about which I now very little. Allen is a very careful pruner, removing the older branches so as to allow the tree as much sunlight as possible, which produces better fruit. This careful pruning also pays off: the trees last longer. A tree, he explained, is only as old as its wood. By pruning carefully, so that the branches are quite young (3 or 4 years old, on average) he extended the lifespan of his trees to about 25. He doesn't think much of this. However, I happen to remember that Hinegardner's Orchards expects its trees to last 15 years at the maximum.

Above: Allen Isreal explains the dynamics of pruning and apple production. He is a wonderful teacher; full of interesting facts, he understatedly imparted knowledge to me during the entire tour.

Above: a row of pruned apple trees. They look sad now, but they will be happy come summer, when the Sun's warming rays reach all the leaves.

Above: an un-pruned apple tree.

As we walked slowly towards the end of the orchard, we passed a pet project of his, 3 rows of asparagus. Strolling back, he talked about the health of his trees in relationship to this year's winter. It was particularly bad, he said, and had reached temperatures of around 35 below zero in the orchard. While his apple trees were mostly fine, none of his peaches (which are only good to -25 degrees) would be producing fruit that year- if it gets to cold the tree spends its energy repairing, not producing.

On the other side of the greenhouses he showed me another work in progress: the pears. He has 5 varieties of asian pears, with names like Golden Olympic (that type I remember; he said it tasted lightly of caramel). In addition, he has 2 varieties of normal pears.

I left, slightly disappointed I had not discovered this array of fruitly pleasure earlier. I would have gorged myself on tomatoes, lettuce, pears, apples and peaches, as well as loaded my car full to bursting. As it is, he can expect to see me at his booth, come summer.