Greener Pastures

Bruce Sherman gets to the root of the joys of fresh produce

Reflecting back on my childhood, I can vividly remember tending the family vegetable garden during the often brutally hot Midwestern summers: weeding, watering, and harvesting. I recall countless weekend trips to whichever local farmstand was deemed to have the most exceptional sweet corn at that moment. My father’s relationship with his only sibling was often sparked with competition over finding the best farmstand and the freshest vegetables. Were they to be found by driving the family “tractor” (aka, the Country Squire) south to the Hammond Farms outpost, or west to Anton’s, or even 15 miles up north (sustainability be damned!) to the freestanding table set-up on dusty Half Day Road, practically in the cornfield itself?

Today, of course, many of those independent outposts have largely dried up, or been paved over or developed into condos and office buildings. That was my reality back then, though. It’s funny how, in retrospect, such a significant amount of family time and emotion went into both “agricultural” passions—growing and “urban foraging”—in pursuit of discovering the tastiest, freshest produce for my mother’s home-cooked meals. Because of it, I certainly better understand and appreciate what a huge difference growing your own, or starting with superior ingredients can make.

Surely, those deep-rooted food memories help feed my current obsession with procuring the best-tasting vegetables available in their native region. Beyond that though, I, and many of my fellow chefs have an even more unique and remarkable opportunity not afforded previous generations: the ability to work together directly with farmers, to “custom grow” our vegetables. The products, relationships and communities we can develop through this dialogue allow us to do so much more than our predecessors.

Yet, regardless of today’s newer professional landscape, many average Americans still unfortunately and unfairly equate certain vegetables with the stale, soft, or bland products found in their supermarket’s not-so-local produce section—or worse yet, freezer section. But we, as practiced cooks, have the tools in our arsenals to make delicious what many fear from their associations with poorly prepared food of their pasts.

We enjoy the ability to transform fresh ingredients into delicious food, and I often see that as an inspiration and opportunity to challenge the (traditionally Midwestern) meat-and-potatoes diner. By sometimes pairing classically undesirable (or more likely, underappreciated) vegetables with steak, chicken, or other traditional center-of-the-plate favorites, I hope to compel the staid diner into confronting some of his or her most unpalatable food memories, in a well-meaning effort to help overcome unsubstantiated food fears and to revel in the beauty of the unknown. As we well know, root vegetables—perhaps treated in the manner included in this issue—or brassicas, for example, are hardly to be avoided; when we prepare them well and intelligently, even the most hesitant child often finds them (deservedly) delicious. Why shouldn’t mature adults genuinely feel the same?

As I consider it, I realize that a generation or two later, we are ironically back where I started, perhaps even at the height of the farm fresh, local produce renaissance. And I’m spending a great deal of my now-professional time and emotion with the same purpose: seeking to maximize flavor and revitalize an appreciation for vegetables. The continuous search for the freshest, best ingredients again ends in my very own proverbial backyard: local farmers markets and communities.
Funny how that happened.

Bruce Sherman is the chef-partner of North Pond in Chicago, the national chairman of Chef’s Collaborative, is on the board of directors for Chicago’s Green City Market and is a multiple James Beard award finalist.