Ohio’s cuisine, what does that encompass exactly? It sounds nice. The words flow nicely and it seems like something I, as an Ohioan, should understand and be able to explain to others. However, when I thought about it this week, I realized I needed to do some digging before I could stand in front of a consortium of the states and speak for the cuisine of the great state of Ohio, the place I proudly call home.
When one says the word cuisine, what exactly does it mean? Most of us imagine it to mean food, period. When we think of Italian cuisine, we think of tomatoes, spaghetti, meatballs, olives, Parmesan cheese, etc. When we think of Mexican cuisine, we think of beans and rice, corn, enchiladas, tacos, guacamole, etc. The word cuisine, however, actually means something a little bit different, something more specific and developed. I’m going to do something now that I try very hard not to do given the open-ended source of its information—I’m going to add a definition of “traditional cuisine” from Wikipedia to give you a good sense of where I’m coming from.
“A traditional cuisine is a coherent tradition of food preparation that rises from the daily lives and kitchens of a people over an extended period of time in a specific region of a country, or a specific country, and which, when localized, has notable distinctions from the cuisine of the country as a whole.”
After reading this definition and using it as a foundation for the rest of this blog about Ohio Cuisine, I got a bit discouraged. Ohio is certainly not a region, but the Mid-West is a region. However, I’m an Ohioan, and no offense to those folks from Iowa, Wisconsin or Michigan, but I want Ohio to be special. I want Ohio to have its own traditions of food preparation, and I want it to be different from what folks in Indiana or Illinois are doing. So, in hopes of getting to the nitty-gritty of what I could proudly proclaim to be Ohio’s Cuisine, I turned to another frighteningly omniscient resource...Facebook. I decided to ask around.
I was pleasantly surprised and relieved by the results. Without giving the definition of the word “cuisine,” the responses were overwhelmingly just foods—as in objects, the things themselves before we chop it, broil it, fry it, season it, cure it, smoke it, and so on. Many responses were companies whose products are native to our great state, or products themselves which are really an Ohio thing (buckeyes to be exact...the chocolate and peanut butter ones, that is). This was a good basis for the formulation of my personal lexicon of sorts of Ohio’s Cuisine.
One thing that did surprise and excite me was that my fellow Ohioans were, whether they knew it or not, in tune with seasonal eating. Two popular responses were squash and sweet corn. I think, had I asked this question in June, the response might have been something more like strawberries. Or had I asked in April it might’ve been maple syrup. We are now firmly treading into fall, just trailing out of the sweet corn field and beginning to stumble into the gourd patch. One thing that is for sure about Ohio’s food is that we grow some exceptionally good stuff. This is the heartland. If that word doesn’t conjure up images of baskets full of fresh vegetables, white and golden ears of corn, and buckets of shiny red apples, I don’t know what else would. Say it again and imagine it...heartland. We grow a thousand different varieties of things, and we’re blessed enough to live in a place where we get four seasons a year. Yes, this is a blessing, even in the dead of February when we’re all complaining about the snow that comes every winter, year in and year out, as if we thought it wouldn’t come this year. We get rain in spring that sends our crops climbing out of the ground. We have a steady increase in temperature as summer wears on, making it easy for almost any plant you’d want to grow to develop almost to perfection. Then we have fall, cool season crops, and harvest classics like butternut squash and pumpkins. We’re not Arizonans, who have to import water from huge reservoirs thousands of miles away to irrigate crops which should never have been grown there in the first place. We’re not Minnesotans, who have a hard time getting a tomato to ripen before frost crushes the dream. We’ve been growing the same things year, after year, and we’re known for it. Now...we have to start eating it.
One response to my question about Ohio Cuisine was the infamous green bean casserole. You all know it, we’ve all eaten it—the canned French-style green beans, cream of mushroom soup, milk and those french-fried onion things. Nothing, nothing, NOTHING in that casserole came from Ohio, unless you’re using locally produced milk. Yet, it is a staple in Ohio’s kitchens and has been ever since the Campbell’s soup company decided to kick us out of our kitchens and plop us in front of our televisions, because why should we have to put effort into the food we eat.
Also, green bean casserole isn’t a part of Ohio Cuisine by definition, because we don’t just make it special here in Ohio. They make it in Florida, Texas and even Alaska I imagine. You know why? Because nothing about it is special or specific to Ohio, and everyone in America has access to all of the ingredients to make it at anytime of the year. I’m not trying to rain on anyone’s green bean casserole parade here, because I know many, many people who live and die by it on their Thanksgiving tables each year. What I’m trying to say is...Ohioans, be proud. Why do we love this casserole so much? We don’t love it because we prefer the taste of California grown beans, packed in water and shipped thousands of miles across the continent before they hit our store shelves for months at a time. We don’t love it because we love the heavily processed and preserved glop that comes out of the can when we tip it over and shake it really hard. We love it because Mom made it and probably even some of our Grandmothers made it. We love it because Aunt Sue and Uncle Bill always brought it in that stupid yellow Pyrex to Christmas dinner. Or because it used to be Grandpa Joe’s favorite food and he’d eat plates full of it without his teeth in on Easter Sunday. We love the idea, the history, the memories, and the love that comes along with green bean casserole. It is our comfort food, and that comfort is, I believe, what we seek when we go dipping into it on turkey day.
The major ingredient in this casserole, the green bean, grows abundantly here in Ohio. Between the green beans, the history of the dish, and the love that it emanates, these are the makings of what could be a shining star in Ohio Cuisine. This sounded like a challenge to me, and my God do I love a culinary challenge. This is where I start making some people mad, if I haven’t already.
This green bean casserole we know and love, well, frankly, we could do better. This is Ohio, we grow some pretty amazing green beans, we have a few local creameries where we can get our paws on some delicious local milk, and if you go to a farmer’s market in Ohio and can’t find an onion, you might want to check the map and make sure you really are in Ohio. Green bean casserole needs a make-over, one that’s good for our Ohio farmers, and good for Ohio hearts, physically and emotionally. If it is going to be a part of Ohio Cuisine, it needs to contain food that is actually from Ohio. Look at the “cuisines” I mentioned in the very first paragraph of this blog. Regional Italian cuisine is rich with tomatoes, garlic, olives, olive oil, semolina, home-cured meats, regional cheeses...it uses products that are grown in, raised in, made in and abundant in Italy.
Ohio Cuisine may never really be something that is distinctly Ohioan, because we’re a part of the Midwest and people living just over the border in Indiana or Pennsylvania have access to almost identical food products. However, I think the least we can do is start making our favorite “Ohio” things to eat with food that is grown, raised, and produced in Ohio, from Ohio’s soil, Ohio’s sun and by Ohio’s hands. There’s a fantastic new campaign going on called Ohio Proud, to help consumers buy products that were produced right here in the Buckeye State. That’s what we need in our green bean casserole: pride. People need to start calling it, “Ohio Proud Green Bean Casserole,” don’t you know.
Needless to say, I got right to work. And yes, it was work. This is holiday food, it shouldn’t be easy. We should take some time to lovingly prepare food the way our ancestors did, especially when we’re preparing a celebration. The inspiration for this came, obviously, from the widely popular green bean casserole perfected in the Campbell’s test kitchen. I also thought about another comment left on my Facebook wall about fresh green beans and baby potatoes. I thought about the way my Mother fixes potatoes, and how to incorporate that to make this dish even more special to me. Finally, I thought about available Ohio produce now and in two and a half months from now when we’re all buckling down to prepare this for Thanksgiving. I decided to use local green beans, cooked to crisp-tender, incorporate fresh onions into the casserole itself, make a homemade classic French cream sauce instead of the soup, and top it with a potato crust. I’ve inserted comments, thoughts and suggestions throughout the recipe. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did, and as always, please buy local. It’s good for you, and your community.
Ohio Proud Green Bean Casserole
2 lbs. locally grown green beans, washed and snapped
2 small locally grown yellow onions, halved lengthwise and slivered
1 TBS. dried parsley
1 tsp. salt
¼ tsp. black pepper
1 ½ cups garlic soubise (recipe included)
4 small, locally grown potatoes, washed but not peeled, sliced paper thin
1 TBS. extra-virgin olive oil
¼ tsp. garlic salt
Pinch of pepper
1 tsp. dried parsley
1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Using a drizzle of olive oil, oil the bottom and sides of a 2 quart casserole dish.
2. Put the green beans in a large pot and cover with cold water. Bring to a boil, and boil for four minutes, or until the beans are still bright green and retain a crisp-tender texture. Drain and set aside.
I know in November fresh green beans and fresh onions won't be available any longer. What I did, while I was preparing this recipe, was to freeze 2 lbs of fresh, local green beans in a single layer on a cookie sheet for 4 hours or until they are hard. Then I popped them into a Ziploc bag and put them away until I need them again (Thanksgiving, perhaps). I chopped up two extra onions and put that in a Ziploc bag in the freezer as well. Your freezer is an excellent way to eat local all year round.
3. Make the garlic soubise as follows:
2 TBS. extra virgin olive oil
½ cup locally grown yellow onions, finely minced
1 clove of locally grown garlic, finely minced
2 TBS. unbleached white flour
2 cups local low-fat milk (2%)
1 tsp. salt
¼ tsp. black pepper
1. In a medium size pot, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the finely minced onion and sauté for three to four minutes, or until the onion begins to turn translucent and releases its juices (sweats) but is not browning. Add the finely minced garlic and sauté, stirring, for ten seconds. Stir in the flour and cook for thirty seconds, or until the mixture becomes thick and bubbles a little around the edges. Whisk in the milk all at once.
2. Whisk well to incorporate the flour paste (roux). Bring the sauce to a simmer over medium heat, whisking often. Turn the heat down slightly, but not so much that the simmer dies out. Simmer the sauce for twenty minutes, whisking very often, every ten or fifteen seconds. After twenty minutes, the sauce should be thick and creamy. Be careful not to let the sauce scorch or burn on the bottom.
3. Press the sauce through a sieve to remove the pieces of onion and garlic. Stir in the salt and pepper. This should make 1 ½ cups of garlic soubise.
If you do one thing from this recipe, make this sauce. This sauce was silky, rich and yet light and so very flavorful. It is definitely work, and a commitment once you begin. You will want to have the onion minced, the garlic minced, the flour measured out and the milk measured out and ready to go. Show this sauce some love and after the first taste you'll know it was worth it. It will blow the socks off of the soup in a can.
4. In a large bowl, toss together the cooked green beans, slivered onion, 1 TBS. dried parsley, 1 tsp. salt, ¼ tsp. pepper and the hot garlic soubise. Pour this mixture into the prepared, oiled casserole.
5. Lay out, in a single layer, the paper thin slices of potato on a cutting board or piece of waxed paper. Using a pastry brush, brush the slices evenly with half of the 1 TBS. extra-virgin olive oil. Arrange the slices, oiled side down, in a circular, overlapping pattern on top of the green bean mixture. Brush the tops of the potato slices with the remaining olive oil, and sprinkle them with the garlic salt, black pepper, and 1 tsp. dried parsley.
The potato crust was inspired by the fact that I wanted to use another Ohio grown ingredient in the casserole. I couldn't find any locally raised mushrooms, or even locally raised dried mushrooms, so I thought of my friend Eleanore's addition to our Ohio cuisine discussion (fresh green beans and baby potatoes) and decided to add the potatoes. I sprinkled them with garlic salt, black pepper, and parsley because that is what my Mother uses to fix fried potatoes and the smell and taste of it makes me think of her, and think of home.
6. Bake the casserole in the 375 degree oven for 35-40 minutes, or until the green beans are bubbling and the potato crust is browned and beginning to crisp on the edges. Cool slightly, but serve very warm.
My dinner of Ohio Proud Green Bean Casserole and Savory Sweet Potato Pie with Goat Cheese and Rosemary.
Now, I know things like olive oil, and flour are not made locally (for me at least). My rationale for using these products is that I purchased them from a local bulk food store. While they weren't produced here in Southeast Ohio (or even the United States as far as the olive oil is concerned), at least I bought them from a locally owned and operated store. Most of the money I spent on these things will still stay in this community and not be funneled off to the corporate headquarters of some national chain of grocery stores. I try to buy food products at stores like Jo-Ad Specialty Market, where I bought these products, to help support my community.
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