It’s not like I have a free 16-ounce rib-eye steak for lunch every day, but today I made an exception.

It started when I wrote an article about buying meat at the farmers market. In it, I had a lot of nice things to say about the pork and not a lot of good to say about the beef, which overall I found lamby and dry:

> If you like corn-fed beef, you will taste grass-fed beef and wonder who stole your meat. Grass-fed beef is leaner, easier to overcook and more likely to taste livery.

Then, on Saturday, I was at the U District market. As I passed by the Skagit River Ranch stand, I saw that they’d posted a more recent article I’d written, one about lard. Then a guy bought some lard, right in front of me. I couldn’t resist. I asked him what he was going to do with the lard. (“I’m going to put it in the freezer next to my schmalz.”) Then I admitted that I wrote the article.

Eiko Vojkovich, who owns Skagit River Ranch and runs the stand on Saturdays, overheard me. “You’re Matthew? I need to talk to you.” Uh-oh. “You didn’t try my steak, did you?”

“No,” I admitted. I didn’t try her steak because I hardly ever eat steak, and for the meat article I wanted to stick to my usual cuts as much as possible. (I had tried Skagit’s chuck roast, and it was good, although the burger I made with it did taste like lamb.)

Vojkovich went on to explain that the meat from the other stand at the market is from dairy cows, and she wanted me to understand that good steaks come from good genes, and I was not going to be disappointed with a steak from one of her beef cattle. Then she reached into the cooler, pulled out a one-pound rib steak and handed to to me. “Here. On the house,” she said.

I am not supposed to accept freebies, and I made noises to that effect. But I could see in Eiko Vojkovich’s eyes that there was no *way* I was going to win this, and that if I tried to pay for the steak, I would risk being chased down the concourse and having my money thrown at me. Not that I put up much of a fight, admittedly. I don’t know how much they charge for rib steaks at Skagit, but it’s not far under $20 a pound.

Today I made the steak for lunch. I put on a lot of salt and pepper and seared it five minutes per side in a hot skillet. While the steak rested, I made a pan sauce with red wine, shallots, and some of the veal stock from Sea Breeze Farm, which turned out to be rich, gelatinous, and perfect. A pat of butter to mount the sauce, and it was lunchtime.

Really, I didn’t intend to eat the whole steak when I sat down, but suddenly it was gone. Vojkovich was right, of course. This is a no-compromise steak: grass-fed, with all of the environmental, nutritional, and humane goodness that implies, and with great texture and flavor. It helped that I cooked it perfectly medium-rare; usually I screw this up. There was a gaminess to the fattier portions that was much more pronounced than in a corn-fed steak, but I assume most people do as I do and leave the fattiest parts on the plate. (And I assume those who don’t are after a real animal experience anyway.) The only thing you don’t get in a steak like this is a low price–and good steaks are never cheap.

Sorry I didn’t try your steak earlier, Eiko.

Skagit River Ranch

Iris never gets so excited about any food as when I ask her to help me put it on pizza. This is because she knows I’ll let her get away with stuffing as much into her mouth as ends up on the pizza. (“I’m just tasting some,” is her standard line.)

My homemade Italian sausage is good, but I don’t know if it’s this good.

When it comes to growing plants, I’m worse than a black thumb. I think I have no thumb. This summer we seemed to be doing well. We had a vigorous pot of cilantro, grown from seed. Then I bragged about the great salsa I made with it, and of course it immediately died.

We have a sunflower that grew about six feet tall. We watched the head grow every day, and just when it seemed ready to open, the plant fell over and the incipient inflorescence broke off. I reattached it with duct tape, which Iris found very entertaining. It sort of opened, as it dried up.

All of this is kind of painful to watch. Even though I know full well that plants don’t have brains, it is hard to watch an organism try to carry out its genetic program but be thwarted at every turn by me.

Then there’s the bean plant. Iris planted this ornamental bean plant, and it grew a vine over the railing of our balcony. Like most everything we plant, it grew well for a while and then died, but before it did, it produced exactly one bean pod. I forgot about it until yesterday, when Iris and I were out blowing bubbles and I noticed it was still there, although the pod was now brown and paper-thin. “Let’s open it,” I said. Check this out, and be sure to click and zoom in for the large size:

I’m going to cook it in a tablespoon of chicken stock, with 1g of bacon for flavor.

While Iris did the Puyallup today, Laurie and I hit the Ballard Farmers Market. One of the biggest of Seattle’s markets, Ballard’s has some special features. There’s the bruschettina lady, who has been profiled in Sunset as well as all the local media, whose wares are justifiably famous, and who is now moving to Italy. We got a bruschetta trio: octopus and chickpea (which is apparently the best seller), tomato-basil, and Italian sausage with greens. Everything gets a drizzle of Tuscan olive oil, and the sausage is from Skagit River Ranch, whose organic meat stand is right around the corner.

After a bite or two, I could see why the octopus is so popular–octopus takes to charring better than almost any other food, I think. They have both a grill and a stove with well-seasoned cast iron pans at the bruschetta stand, so I assume the octopus prep involves grilling, chopping, and reheating with the beans. I honestly thought that even in Seattle, even at a farmers market, most people didn’t eat things like octopus, but apparently I was just being a snob. In any case, catch her while you can (through October).

Bruschetta isn’t the only ready-to-eat food at the market. There’s also the Dante’s Inferno hot dog stand, which makes a really great dog. He uses Boar’s Head, the best hot dog brand, and keeps them warm in water but finishes them on the griddle. There’s a nice variety of toppings; I had mine with grilled onions and peppers and Rooster sriracha sauce, while Laurie chose pepper mayo and dill pickle relish. They also offer pickled jalapeños, which is what I put on my hot dogs at home, and I thought I’d invented this and was the only person to do so. So not only are my tastes less than elite, I’m not even a culinary innovator. Plus Laurie told me that I’m not enough of a celebrity to be on Celebrity Duets. And this was a *good* day.

But the most exciting thing in the market was coming across the Sea Breeze Farm stand. I’d read about Sea Breeze Farm on Cookbook 411, when Lara Ferroni visited their farm on Vashon. But here was their stand, where I picked up a dozen duck eggs (laid within the last two days, he assured me) and a pint of veal stock. They were also taking orders for fresh veal, and the only reason I didn’t plunk down for a veal shoulder is that I wasn’t sure I could make it back to Ballard next Sunday. Now I’m thinking, wait, if I can’t get to Ballard for an organic veal shoulder with my name on it, what is my problem?

When Iris got back from the fair I made us a scrambled duck egg. The taste was great, but the texture was mushy. Laurie figured out why: the yolks are so huge, there’s not enough white to give it structure. They’re going to make incredible fried eggs–and fresh pasta, which means lasagna bolognese might be coming up sooner than I’d anticipated.

What should I do with the veal stock? It’s rich, it’s gelatinous, it’s a saucier in a bottle.

We just made a major Trader Joe’s pilgrimage. Lately I’ve been eating lunch at home more often and wanting lunch to be cheap and fast. I have an addiction to eating lunch out, which combined with a delusion that lunch out is $5 gets expensive fast. So the Joe’s frozen section is delightful. I got some crispy orange chicken, various burritos, and so on.

But that’s not what I’m so excited about. I also got a bag of Thai spiced peanuts. Normally “Thai spiced” anything from a Western store is going to be disappointing, but these are awesome. They have crumbled dried kaffir lime leaves and dried red chiles, and they are really spicy, salty, and sour.

The other new product, TJ’s carne asada, is probably not new, but I’m trying to get over my aversion to prepared foods so I just noticed it. It’s a bag of marinated sliced beef. When I see a bag of marinated sliced beef, my gut reaction is, “Pshaw, if I want some marinated sliced beef, I will slice some beef and marinate it,” which never happens. So I bought the beef. I figured it would be at least okay, but I just seared some in a pan and it was way better than okay. I’m going to make some for dinner tonight with broccoli and crispy potatoes, and I think Iris is going to love it.