Harvest Porridge

After hunkering down/shoveling out of the big Nor’easter that blew (and blew and blew) through New Jersey the day after Christmas, I craved something warm and hearty for breakfast.  My mind turned to a meal I had a few weeks before, after a chilly morning walk along the Hudson River.  

There is a Le Pain Quotidien in Battery Park City that serves something called Harvest Porridge.  It is made of farro, almond milk, dried cranberries, pecans, and walnuts, and sounded as healthy and filling to me that day as it did this snowy morning - just what my achy, shoveled-the-long-driveway-three-times-in-40-mile-per-hour-winds body was calling out for.

Farro (also known as emmer) is referred to as an ancient grain for good reason; it was the first cultivated grain, appearing over 10,000 years ago in the Near East and Mediterranean.  Farro was found in Egyptian tombs and was standard fare for the Roman Legions as they conquered Western Europe.

Farro fell out of favor with growers because of its low yields and lengthy milling process.  It’s a shame because this whole grain is one of the healthiest you can eat.  Farro is a complex carbohydrate that contains double the fiber and protein of regular wheat.  It’s loaded with antioxidants, minerals, and vitamins, which contribute to reduced inflammation, stable blood sugar levels, and lower cholesterol. Did I mention it's delicious, too?

Farro is hulled wheat, meaning it has a hard, inedible outer husk that encases and protects the grain inside.  It can be purchased whole or pearled. Whole farro is the more nutritious of the two types because it retains the bran layer and germ when the outer husk is removed; the drawback is it takes longer to cook.  Pearled farro loses the bran and germ along with the husk during the milling process.  This enables the grains to cook faster (about half the time) but lowers the nutritional content.  

The majority of farro today comes from Italy but there are a few US sources producing high quality, heirloom grains.  South Carolina’s Anson Mills sells several varieties of farro, as does Washington’s Bluebird Grain Farms.  I bought mine at the Friday Union Square Greenmarket from Cayuga Pure Organics, supplier of New York grown organic grains, flours, and dried beans.   Founders Dan Lathwell and Erick Smith have been involved with farming in Ithaca, NY since the 1970’s and are committed to sustainable farming practices such as composting, crop rotation, and growing food without pesticides, GMO’s, and artificial fertilizers.

Farro is considered country food in Italy; its chewy texture and nutty flavor make it ideal for soups, salads, stews, and pilafs.  The firm texture is what made it appealing to me as a breakfast cereal.  I like oatmeal, but sometimes the texture is too mushy for my taste. Farro is an excellent alternative. 

Harvest Porridge

Adapted from Le Pain Quotidien

My only caution to you when cooking farro is this:  know what you’ve got.  Is it pearled or whole?  Most farro recipes I come across don’t distinguish between the two types and give cooking times based on one or the other (from my experience, it’s usually pearled).  As a general rule, pearled farro takes half as much time (30 minutes) to cook as whole farro (60 minutes) so adjust your recipe accordingly. 

I had some experimenting to do with my farro.  When I bought it from the Cayuga stand, it wasn’t labeled one way or the other and I hadn’t a clue about this “whole” vs “pearled” business.  I pulled out a farro recipe and started cooking.  It seemed like it took forever to cook – much longer than what the recipe called for - and the grains never really got soft and chewy.  I gave up and tossed the whole thing in the garbage. 

I went back and spoke to the woman I had bought it from and turns out, my farro was whole. She recommended cracking it in a coffee grinder to decrease cooking time and magic! - it worked!  I’ve also read you can pour hot water over whole farro and let it stand overnight to soften and decrease cooking time.

So let my experiment be a help to you; the last thing I want to do is scare you away from this excellent grain.  If all this sounds too complicated, start with pearled farro, which is less temperamental to cook with.  Yes, you’ll lose some nutrition, but it’s still a powerhouse food.   

The original recipe called for agave, which I didn’t have on hand so I substituted a splash of maple syrup instead. 

Almond milk is made of ground almonds and contains no cholesterol or lactose, making it a healthy alternative to cow’s milk.  It has a pleasant, mild flavor and is quite tasty in this recipe. Of course, regular milk is fine to use, too.

3 cups unsweetened almond milk

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 tablespoon maple syrup or raw agave nectar

½ cup whole farro, cracked in a coffee grinder or pearled farro, as is

¼ cup dried cranberries

2 tablespoons chopped pecans

2 tablespoons chopped walnuts

In a medium saucepan, combine almond milk, vanilla extract, and maple syrup.  Bring to a boil over medium heat.  Stir in farro.  Simmer over medium-low, about 35 minutes, stirring occasionally.  Add dried cranberries.  Continue cooking another 10 minutes or until farro is tender and has absorbed the milk.  Spoon into bowls and top with pecans and walnuts.

Serves 2

Update:

Alexis at Cayuga was kind enough to share more info about their farro and farro in general.  Here is what she had to say.  Thanks, Alexis!

I find it best to first soak the farro in room temperature water for about 6 to 8 hours before cooking.  Our bodies do not create the enzyme we need to properly digest and metabolize most grains.  Plus the longer the grain soaks, the less one is bothered with cooking for hours and hours.  If anything happens to float to the top of the bowl/pot during this soak period (which may be over night if that is how you chose to do so) scoop it off and discard!  During the actual cooking process I suggest treating the farro like a wild rice; water ratio of 3 (cups of water) to 1 (cup of grain).

Pamlico Sound Shrimp & Anson Mills Grits

After breakfast at the Pier we headed further south to Wanchese, a tiny fishing village which, along with Manteo, makes up the two towns on Roanoke Island, location of the first (and failed) attempt in 1585 by Queen Elizabeth and Sir Walter Raleigh to establish an American colony. Wanchese Harbor is home to all commercial fishing boats in the area and where millions of pounds of seafood pass through a year. All I needed was one pound of shrimp for dinner and what I bought at O’Neal’s Sea Harvest was fresh from Pamlico Sound, a few miles away.

For dinner I was making a classic Southern dish – shrimp and grits. My mom is a fan of grits, but I’m more or less indifferent. I can’t say I’ve ever had a great bowl of grits, but in the spirit of regional eating, I wanted to give it a shot.

To get this meal right I needed the best ingredients I could get my hands on. The fresh-off-the-boat Outer Banks shrimp was taken care of in Wanchese. When it came to the grits, I had a secret weapon up my sleeve. Before leaving New York I ordered a bag of Antebellum coarse white grits from South Carolina’s Anson Mills. I reasoned if top chefs like Thomas Keller and Alice Waters are smitten with their organic, heirloom grains, cold-milled in pre-Civil War tradition, they must be worth the extra effort and expense to order and ship. While I was on their site placing my order (you won’t find their products in a store; the grains are milled only when an order is placed) I discovered quite a bit of history and realized impressive chefs or not, this was going to be special. I was off to a great start, or so I hoped; if I got the cooking part down, the meal ought to be a home run.

In Antebellum South Carolina, plantations each bred their own, distinct variety of corn by following the Native American tradition of crossing mill corn (corn which is left in the field to ripen, dry out, and get starchy) with sweet corn (the soft and sugary kind we eat off the cob in the summer). Once crossed, this becomes known as dent corn, the premier corn for making grits in the South. Back then, dent corn was kept cold and milled only as needed. As generations passed, the small back-road farmers, kitchen gardeners and bootleggers lost interest in growing these unique corn crops and the varieties threatened to vanish. Today virtually all grits are made from production corn and milled far in advance of eating which leaves it lacking the depth of flavor and freshness of its heirloom predecessors.

This is where Anson Mills founder Glenn Roberts stepped in. Having worked as an architect for three decades in Charleston he switched career gears after listening to his South Carolina born-and-raised mother recollect the wonderful dishes she grew up eating but couldn’t recreate because of the inferior, mass-produced grits available in the market. After some investigating, Roberts discovered the old corn varieties that made Southern food heritage so rich were disappearing. And so began his journey to resurrect old strains of corn, known for their texture and flavor, from extinction. While Anson Mills is based in Columbia, SC, Roberts works with hundreds of farmers up and down the East Coast to grow not only organic heirloom corn, but other native organic heirloom grains as well, such as rice and wheat.

I could go on and on; the Anson Mills tale is a fascinating one, rich in history and Southern culture, not to mention of a man’s desire to do something right and do it well. Their website is a goldmine of interesting historical information and recipes for traditional Southern food. In fact, this post would have been finished much sooner if I hadn’t gotten so caught up in the wonderful stories and lore!

Shrimp & Grits
From the Anson Mills website

I made this exactly as their recipe said (minus the bay leaf – we were out) and it was fantastic. Yes, a home run! I wouldn’t change a thing.

Ingredients

1 pound medium-sized, shell-on shrimp

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 medium onion, small dice

1 small stalk celery, small dice

2 large garlic cloves, sliced

4 cups spring or filtered water

1 teaspoon tomato paste

3 full sprigs fresh thyme

1 Turkish bay leaf

1 teaspoon whole, cracked black peppercorns

1 strip lemon peel

2 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature

1 tablespoon flour

2 ounces thick smoked bacon or real country ham, minced (3 tablespoons)

2 large shallots, minced (1/4 cup)

1 teaspoon fine sea salt

1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes

1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

1 scallion, white and green part, thinly sliced

1 recipe hot, freshly prepared Anson Mills Antebellum Coarse or Carolina Quick Grits
Directions

Peel and devein the shrimp, reserving the shells. Dry the shrimp between layers of paper towels and refrigerate until ready to use. Heat the olive oil in a medium-sized, heavy-bottomed saucepan over medium heat. Add the shrimp shells, onion, celery, and garlic and sauté until the shells are crisp and the aromatics tender, 10 minutes. Add the water, tomato paste, thyme, bay, peppercorns, and lemon peel. Cover and bring to a simmer over medium heat. Reduce the heat and simmer, partially covered, until the stock is flavorful and reduced, about 1 hour. Strain the stock into a small saucepan (there should be about 1 1/2 cups), and keep hot.

While the stock is cooking, mash the butter and flour into a smooth paste in a small bowl and set aside.

Sauté the bacon or ham in a large, nonstick skillet over medium-low heat until crisp, 8 to 10 minutes. Move it to the periphery of the skillet and increase the heat to medium. Arrange the shrimp in a single layer and sear until pink. Sprinkle the shallots over the shrimp, toss, and cook until the shrimp is done, about one minute. Add salt, red pepper flakes, and black pepper. Using tongs, transfer the shrimp to a warm plate. Add the hot stock to the skillet and bring to a boil over high heat. Whisk in the reserved butter and flour mixture. Cook until thickened, about 20 seconds. Return the shrimp to the pan and taste sauce for seasoning.

To serve, spoon the hot grits into shallow bowls. Top with shrimp and sauce. Sprinkle with chopped scallions.

Serves 4 to 6

Antebellum Coarse Grits
From the Anson Mills website

I’ve never had anything quite like these grits before. The creamy, chewy texture reminded me of both oatmeal and risotto and yet the pronounced corn flavor tasted like polenta. I have no doubt this is what all grits are meant to taste like, but don’t. I used the slow cooker method, followed the directions given, and the grits were cooked perfectly.

Ingredients

1 cup (6 ounces) Anson Mills Antebellum Coarse Grits (white or yellow)

Spring or filtered water

Fine sea salt

2 to 3 tablespoons unsalted butter

1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Directions

For a slow cooker:
Place the grits in the slow cooker and cover them with 3 cups water. Stir once. Allow the grits to settle a full minute, tilt the vessel, and skim off and discard the chaff and hulls with a fine tea strainer. Cover the slow cooker and turn the heat setting to high. Cook, stirring once or twice, until the grits are creamy and tender, but not mushy, throughout and hold their shape on a spoon, about two hours and ten or 15 minutes. (Cook times in slow cookers may vary slightly depending on the capacity of the individual cooker and its heat settings.) Season with 1 teaspoon salt and stir in the butter with vigorous strokes. Add more salt, if desired, and the black pepper.

For saucepan cookery:
Place the grits in a medium heavy-bottomed saucepan and cover them with 2 ½ cups water. Stir once. Allow the grits to settle a full minute, tilt the pan, and skim off and discard the chaff and hulls with a fine tea strainer. Cover and let stand overnight at room temperature. Note: If you have not soaked the grits, cover them with 2 1/2 cups water, and skim off and discard the chaff and hulls as directed above.

Set the saucepan over medium heat and bring to a simmer, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon, until the first starch takes hold, 5 to 8 minutes. Reduce the heat to the lowest possible setting and cover. Meanwhile, heat 2 cups water in a small saucepan and keep hot. Cook the grits, covered, over low heat, stirring every 10 minutes or so, and adding small amounts of the hot water to the grits when they become thick and the spoon can stand upright, about 1 1/2 cups water or more in 4 or 5 additions. Cook until the grits are creamy and tender, but not mushy, throughout and hold their shape on a spoon, about 50 or 90 minutes, depending on whether or not they were soaked. Add 1 teaspoon salt halfway through the cooking time. To finish, uncover the pot and stir in the butter with vigorous strokes. Add more salt, if desired, and the black pepper.

Serves 4 to 6 as a side dish