adventures in ingredients

While at the Marin farmers market this past weekend, I made friends with Jackie, an adorable farmer who sells eggs under the brand By Cracky It's Jackie's Farm Fresh Eggs. At the end of the market, a few stragglers stopped by her booth requesting chicken eggs. She responded, "Nope, sorry. The weather has been too hot for the chickens to lay eggs. But I have plenty of guinea fowl eggs. They're producing like crazy!" Most refused her offer and walked away disappointed.

While Jackie was gracious enough to give me a dozen guinea fowl eggs at the end of her farmers market run, I'll admit my initial response was not one of excitement: I'd recently encountered a slightly sulfuric-smelling batch of chicken eggs and hadn't quite recovered from the experience. I assumed the eggs from the guinea fowl, which sounded exotic and complicated, must have possessed an equally game taste to match.

"What should I do with them?" I asked Jackie uneasily. "Just cook them like chicken eggs. But remember, the shells are tougher than chicken eggs. So whack 'em to crack 'em, and I mean, really whack 'em," she replied. With that, I gathered my carton of eggs and got cracking. See what guinea fowl eggs look like inside when you read more.

For weeks, I'd been eying these spiky succulent leaves at Berkeley Bowl. I always knew that aloe vera came from this common plant, but never thought I would actually need or want the opportunity to work with it myself. And then there's the whole issue of cooking with it and how to harvest it. It's popular in coconut water these days, but other than that, ingesting it is somewhat uncommon. But those who regularly eat or drink this strange succulent rave about its supposed health benefits, from healing acne to curing cancer.

I did a quick scan of the Internet on how to cut and prepare fresh aloe vera right from the leaf. I found several recipes for smoothies featuring fresh aloe vera pieces and one that served it poached with lime juice. A smoothie sounded more appetizing. Honestly, I got a little bit nervous when I found out that the dark red sap that apparently seeps out should not be ingested or it will cause unpleasant digestive issues. Still, I went for it.

Filleting this piece of aloe vera was a strange experience: I was on the lookout for that dark red sap, though I didn't ever encounter it. The aloe vera gel looked sticky and mucous, not delicious (or even edible). I'd read in a few places that aloe vera on its own is kind of bitter, so of course, I immediately cut off a piece and took a bite. It tasted like nothing, but I did notice a strange sensation in my mouth and my tongue went a little numb. To find out what I did with the fresh fillet of aloe vera, keep reading.

After my last experience with Indian bitter melon, I was a little nervous to experiment with my next ingredient. Just like the last time, I scoured the shelves of Berkeley Bowl, looking for something intriguing but not too intimidating. I settled on a purple, prehistoric-looking ingredient known as a banana flower.

The banana flower is also known as a banana blossom or heart, but frankly, I didn't even know banana trees had flowers. My preliminary research told me that it's an ingredient commonly used in Vietnamese and Thai cooking. It can be eaten raw or cooked, and it happens to be a great source of vitamins A and C. Banana flower also happens to be a common ingredient in Ayurvedic cooking, and it's believed to help heal menstrual pain (major bonus!).

As the outer leaves, or bracts, are pulled back, a row of long, black buds reveal themselves. I almost screamed after peeling back the first bract, because the buds were completely bizarre and off-putting. But the fact that those buds actually turn into bananas put me at ease. Once I pulled off enough bracts, I was left with a tender white heart, ready to be sliced up. To find out what I did with this strange ingredient, keep reading.

To me, Berkeley Bowl is a sacred place worthy of a weekly pilgrimage. Perhaps the ultimate food-lover's grocery store, this massive Berkeley, CA, food emporium carries a huge selection of goods from around the world, and at great prices. I consider it a must stop for friends visiting the Bay Area, so why not share my adventures?

The most remarkable part of the store is probably the produce, which is clearly labeled to identify where each item comes from. The international and bulk sections offer never-ending inspiration, the meats and seafoods offer countless options and price points, and I always find myself mesmerized by fruits and vegetables from around the world that I've never seen before.

Case in point: Indian bitter melon. I grabbed five or six of these a week ago in an effort to learn about new exotic foods. Knowing nothing at all, I selected these purely based on the fact that they seemed sort of reptilian and would be fun to photograph. As the days went on (and as the bitter melon sat in the crisper drawer of my refrigerator), I became more hesitant, not sure what I was thinking.

Finally, I braved up, opened my computer, and did a little research. As it turns out, Indian bitter melon, or karela, is a commonly cooked vegetable in Indian cuisine. It's described all over the Internet as an "acquired taste," and apparently soaking it in salt water helps to remove some of the bitterness. I found recipes for stuffing and sautéing with various spices. The health benefits of this strange vegetable are plentiful, particularly in managing diabetes, and typically, I can convince myself to like anything if it's good for me.

To find out what I did with these and what I thought of them, keep reading.