I just wanted to say

That it might be cold, but with a pair of smart-wool tights and thick jeans, hiked up cashmere socks tucked into thinsulate boots, two cotton shirts, a wool sweater, a scarf, a hat, leather mittens, and a down vest on top, it's really not that bad out there. Even the Swiss chard—upright and perky despite a dip into the twenties in the greenhouse last night—seems to agree.

I was worried about it yesterday, so for dinner we made a spur-of-the-moment, balsamic-doused salad with Swiss chard, raw shaved beets, chunks of apple and crumbles of goat cheese, toasted pecans, grated Brussels sprouts, and dried cranberries.

I thought of you.

And it was lovely.

The Local Food Report: Dear Brussels Sprouts,

You don't have a very good reputation. I'm sure you know that. I'm sure you've heard the way kids talk about you in the lunch line, the way they snicker, the way even certain adults when they see you, grumble under their breath. But you have defenders out there, true believers. I think you should also know that.

Ed Donovan is one of them. You might have noticed him—he's the one who sits behind the table at the farmers' markets, when Tim Friary puts you up for sale at the Cape Cod Organics Stand. He spends most of his time cracking jokes, shucking corn, but most importantly, he talks you up. The other day, he called you To Die For.

The problem, he says, isn't really you. It's cooks. People who don't know how to handle you boil you or steam you or bake you and you go mushy, boring, tasteless. Or farmers' let you get too big, or pick you before the frost, and you never get that tiny, miraculous sweetness.

The right way to treat you, he says, is to pick you small. Then he says to wash you, drizzle you with olive oil and lemon, sprinkle you with salt and pepper, and crank the oven up. He roasts you at 400 for 20 or 30 minutes, until you're slightly blackened and tender and caramelized all around. Then he thanks you, admires you, and digs in.

ROASTED BRUSSELS SPROUTS WITH BACON, LEMON JUICE, AND PECANS

This recipe is a little bit different than Ed's (read: it has bacon in it), but the idea is the same. I've been getting local Brussels sprouts recently from Cape Cod Organics Farm, and they usually have them at Crow Farm this time of year, too.

6 strips bacon
1 pound small Brussels sprouts, washed and halved
1/2 red onion, diced
juice of 1/2 lemon
salt to taste
freshly cracked pepper
1/2 cup toasted pecans

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F.

Fry the bacon in a cast iron skillet over medium heat. When it's cooked through, transfer it to a dishtowel to drain. Leave the fat in the pan.

Put the Brussels sprouts, red onion, and lemon juice in the pan with the bacon fat and toss well. Season with salt and pepper, and put in the oven to roast for 30 minutes, or until some of the Brussels sprouts are blackened and all are tender. Remove from the oven, and crumble the cooked bacon and the toasted pecans over top. Serve warm.

Serves 4

SAUTEED BRUSSELS SPROUTS

This is my favorite way to eat Brussels sprouts. I first discovered the merits of cooking the Brassica family in butter with cabbage, and I've found the combination produces the same sweet, mellow taste with Brussels sprouts. The oil prevents the butter from burning, allowing you to get the pan HOT.

2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 pound small Brussels sprouts, halved
1/2 cup dry white wine
salt and freshly cracked pepper to taste

Melt the butter with the oil in a cast iron skillet over high heat. When the pan is hot—and I mean HOT—add the Brussels sprouts and sauté for 5-8 minutes, or until they start to caramelize and some of the outer layers turn black. Pour in the white wine—it should hiss and almost disappear as it hits the pan. Sauté for a few minutes longer, until all the liquid is cooked off, and season with salt and pepper to taste. Serve at once, preferably with toast and a fried egg over easy.

Serves 4

Just in case

Thanksgiving morning dawns in less than 24 hours. I hope you're ready, armed with your mother's creamed onions, heirloom pumpkin pie, and a big, juicy turkey. But just in case you're not, just in case this year your early planning slipped away a bit, I have a side dish for you.

The fishmonger created it the other night, with me too tired even to watch. It isn't often I make a plea for him to cook, but this night, I needed it. I slipped into the tub while he worked, sniffing the steam every now and again to see if I could catch of whiff of his creation.

I knew there was bacon involved, that much was clear from the start. But even between listening and calling down questions, I couldn't imagine what the rest could be. Eggs? No, too much chopping going on. It could be broccoli or carrots, or perhaps parsnips, but none of those sounded particularly good with bacon. Must be BLT's then, or maybe a bacon topped salad.

When I finally got out, well-warmed and hair dripping, I saw how far off I'd been. It was a salad of sorts, but a warm salad, Brussels sprouts and apple sauteed in bacon fat and topped with little slivers of the meat itself. He'd made a bed of greens, too, to plate the sprouts and apples over, and they melted deliciously into one emerald green dish.

It wasn't long before we'd demolished the tower. Greens, sprouts, and apples slid glibly down into our hungry bellies, bacon warming the ride. It was the perfect dish, it hit me soon after, for a Thanksgiving side, if only we would be cooking.

We won't; with eighty people celebrating in the same family, the turn doesn't often come. So instead, I'm offering it to you, as a back-up of sorts, because you never know what the holiday will bring.

Happy eating.

WARM BRUSSELS SPROUT SALAD

Serves 4

Fry 4 pieces bacon in a large, heavy-bottomed frying pan. While they cook, wash and halve the sprouts from 2 stalks Brussels sprouts. Set aside, then core and dice 1 medium sized apple. When bacon is done, remove from pan and set aside. Saute sprouts over medium heat until they begin to soften, about 8 to 10 minutes. Add apple and bacon, cut into small pieces, and continue cooking for several more minutes, adding olive oil if needed. When sprouts and apples are tender, serve warm, over greens.

An invitation

This is an invitation. I'm helping to throw a dinner party, and I very much hope to see you there. It's a community supper, of sorts—on December 11th, at 7pm—a celebration of the fall harvest and the varied fruits of the season.

There will be lamb, from Border Bay Junction Farm in Barnstable, delivered whole and roasted in cuts from top to tail. There will be turnips, too, simmered into soup and served up hot and creamy from the roadside stand in Eastham.

There will be Brussels sprouts from Crow's Farm in Sandwich, greens from Tim Friary's garden at Cape Cod Organic Farm, and fruit pies made from local cranberries and apples.

It's being held at Willy's Gym—tucked back into a wood-floored, mirror paneled room out of the way of all the hubbub in Eastham. The executive chef from Mac's Shack, Jerome Watkins, is cooking there for the winter, and he'll be in the kitchen with me. Sarah Robins from the Flying Fish and Hillcrest Pizza will be there, too, along with her pastry chef Marissa Ferry.

I do hope you'll be there. Between the orchestration of flames beneath pots and pans, the roasting and the plating and the eventual serving, it could be quite a tiring day, and it would be nice to see some familiar faces at the table.

Reserve your spot soon, if you're coming—we can only serve so many (and five courses, too!). They have a list going at Willy's, and you can put your name in by commenting here, too. The cost is $35, which covers not just the food, but a little extra for the women at Safe Harbor Shelter in Hyannis, too. If you're anywhere near, I hope to see you there.

A shelter from the cold

Did I mention that there's a greenhouse outside?

I should have said something sooner, I know, but I'm just as surprised as you are. It's been a long time coming—since that crazed Saturday in August when I began planting for winter—but still, every time I glance outside, I can hardly believe it's there.

There were a few setbacks, to be sure. A tree fell on the garden in the midst of clearing the way; Grower's Supply sent the wrong size plastic, and a very short door frame, too. Damp leaves squashed a row of scallions; the carrots were planted too late; and the Vietnamese cilantro succumbed to cold before it could be ushered in.

But for a first try, I have to say I'd call the experiment a success. The spinach sprouts new leaves every day, the lettuce has begun to spiral, and the kale, though small, shows promise. The surviving brussel sprouts are just about ready for picking, and the radishes are gaining inches and leaves at an exponential rate.

Part of this, of course, is thanks to the seeds. The lettuce is a four season variety, the spinach a winter bloomsdale, and the radishes cold-loving nero tondo. But the stretch of plastic helps, too. On those nights when the temperature dips into the 30s and 40s, the garden sits warm beneath its watch.

We aren't quite there yet—next year, I'll plant with more organized walkways, I'll start the seedlings earlier, and I won't worry so much over density. I'll seed directly in the greenhouse for the more delicate plants like scallions and spinach, and I hope we'll have a real door. But all in all, for $800, I'd say it's an investment bound to pay off. In a January salad, that is.

BUYING & ERECTING A GREENHOUSE/COLD FRAME

We bought our kit from Grower's Supply. I can't say I'm raving about it—they got most of our order wrong, and then charged us extra for doing so. But, in the end, when we got the right pieces, it was quite a good kit. If you order from them, be sure to double check EVERYTHING on the phone. And order far in advance, and check the parts when you get them, before you start to build, just in case. That will save you a lot of frustration.

The construction is not a small project. It will take 2 able bodied people at least 2-3 days to complete. But once the frame is up, it's up, and taking the plastic on and off as the seasons change is easy.

Don't expect to erect the greenhouse over your plants. We did manage that, but I recommend putting it up in the spring, before you plant. Then you can plant your early seedlings inside, remove the cover when the weather gets nice, and put it back in place when it starts to get cold again. Winter seedlings (except the fragile ones) can be planted in trays, and then moved into the greenhouse once the summer plants have run their course and been pulled up, and the soil composted.

As for options besides plastic, there is a company called Moveable Greenhouses that makes gorgeous glass greenhouses out of Rockland, Maine, but they carry a hefty price tag. If I could afford to buy one, I would, but they are most certainly out of the range of the average grower. Someday, perhaps—it never hurts to dream.

Until then, good luck and happy planting!

The brussel sprout & the locust

There was an accident, of sorts, yesterday. I apologize for my absence—but it was one difficult to stomach.

It involved the brussel sprouts, and a tree. A very large tree, one that the arborists had come to remove so that my winter garden could receive a bit more light, now that the sun has dipped in the horizon.

Of course the tree didn't fall in quite the right direction, and the garden so in need of light received instead a heavy blow. I heard all this over the phone.

When I arrived home to survey the damage, it wasn't so bad as my Route 6 hysteria had initially imagined. Only a narrow swath was hit: a chunk of winter scallions, the towering brussel sprouts, and a few tiny Italian kale. But still, I'd been babying those brussel sprouts since April! and the rest since August.

Luckily, the brussel sprouts were mature enough at least to be ready for dinner. I bathed them carefully, removed their bottoms, and put them into my finest Le Creuset for a proper burial. With a dab of olive oil, hot, and their tiny leaves unfolding, they sank into the pan to steam and let go. We said a final prayer over the table, and bit in to enjoy. They were every bit worth the seven month wait.

PAN STEAMED BRUSSEL SPROUTS

Serves 2

Remove the edible balls from 2 stalks brussel sprouts. Wash, clean, and cut the larger bottoms from the sprouts. In a heavy bottomed, deep frying pan or pot, heat up several tablespoons oil over medium heat. Drop in the sprouts, stirring once, and cover. Let steam, stirring occasionally, until tender. Eat hot.