Last Chance Foods

No one ever said eating locally and seasonally would be easy. But after a long winter of root vegetables — and, admit it, maybe a box or two of berries from Guatamala — spring is here. That means  sunshine, tulips, and, soon, fresh spring produce.

Saint Joseph's Day hits the calendar right between Saint Patrick's Day and Passover, and it often gets lost the spring holiday shuffle. It honors the patron saint of Sicily. For many of us, the fried Sicilian pastries alone are cause enough for celebration.

Hammering rock music blasts from the back of The Meat Hook butcher shop. Behind a deli counter, three men in their 30s are calmly taking apart sides of meat at a large, communal table. Here, a razor-sharp fillet knife traces through a rack of ribs. There, a band saw whirs through a leg of pork. This is not a scene for the faint of heart—or the vegetarian of stomach.

More than 30 inches of snow has already hit New York this season, putting the city more than a foot above average—and that's not counting the winter storm currently underway. The slushy weather hasn’t stopped many New Yorkers from making their way to The City Bakery for its annual hot chocolate festival, though. City Bakery owner Maury Rubin created a different flavor for each day of February, including bourbon, ginger, hi-ho pistachio, and beer-and-brown sugar hot chocolate.

While many have snapped into Slim Jims at one point or another, the time has come to take beef jerky to the next level: craft jerky. This is no mechanically separated, chemically dehydrated meat product. Instead, jerky makers in New York are embarking on the age-old method of preserving meat by using grass-fed, local and organic beef.

At the risk of paraphrasing Survivor: It's the year of the tiger. This Sunday marks the start of the Lunar New Year, known as Chinese New Year to many. That means families everywhere will be feasting on a variety of foods that are considered fortuitous.

These days it's known as a tangy accompaniment to an unadorned hot dog, but in the 18th century, sauerkraut was a medical necessity. German sailors at the time ate sauerkraut as a means of preventing scurvy, a disease that, in the 1500s, claimed 80 percent of Ferdinand Magellan's crew when he crossed the Pacific.

Kimchi, Korea's national dish, is a phenomenon. The sheer numbers speak for themselves: The average Korean eats about 40 pounds of kimchi a year, according to one source. That means 1.6 million tons of kimchi is consumed in South Korea annually.  In fact, when South Korea sent its first man into space last year, he took with him a specially created, bacteria-free space kimchi to share with his Russian counterparts at the International Space Station.

Comfort food is a necessity during these colder months. For some, that may involve a hearty stew or mac and cheese, but for many, that means pickled herring. In Jewish traditions, pickled herring and other preserved fish are served at important milestones in life: births, weddings, shivahs. The small fish is also traditional fare in Scandanavian, Japanese and Eastern European cuisine.

Here’s an economic-downturn story to inspire: Two 20-somethings lose their restaurant and publishing jobs. They start a pickle company. Less than six months and a flurry of media coverage later, they strike a distribution deal with a major specialty food supermarket.

No recession-time fairy tale, Brooklyn Brine is the real deal. Owners Joya Carlton and Shamus Jones recently stopped by the WNYC studio to speak with Amy Eddings about how their burgeoning business grew out of the desire to preserve seasonal vegetables.

Both soft-spoken Joya Carlton, 28, and tattoo-covered Jones, 29, are longtime vegetarians who always felt a special affinity for savory pickled produce. Carlton formerly worked in hard science publishing and documents her adventures in vegan cuisine on her blog, Sword and Bean. Jones, a chef, recalled his first professional foray into pickling, when a forager bestowed him with several pounds of mushrooms at the end of a particularly fruitful season. He ended up putting away several oil-filled jars packed with chantrelles. This past November, the Rosendale International Pickle Festival supplied a good example of how far the duo has come in such a short amount of time. Brooklyn Brine submitted the maximum allowed three entries: Fennel beets, curried squash and garlic scapes (the flowering stalks that grow out of garlic plants). They walked away with just as many awards. For those interested in pickling at home, Jones says “meticulous” is the key word. “Identify what kind of flavor profile you want,” he advised. “Spices are as integral as the thing you want to produce. Food science is all about ratios. Don’t be afraid to experiment, but also research all the different variables that can go wrong. It's not something to go into haphazardly.” While last week, Bob McClure of McClure’s Pickles recommended keeping cucumbers on ice to keep them crunchy in the jar, Brooklyn Brine takes a different approach. Use tannen-rich oak, horseradish or grape leaves, said Jones. To go beyond the home kitchen, however, takes long nights — Brooklyn Brine starts pickling in a borrowed kitchen at midnight and finishes by 8am — and commitment. “I don’t think any of the people starting food companies in Brooklyn are doing it for fast and easy money or for the fame,” explains Carlton. “It’s really a labor of love.”Brooklyn Brine’s recipe for “Smoky Lemon and Mint Eggplant Pickles” is below.“Smoky Lemon and Mint Eggplant Pickles”By Brooklyn Brine

1. Peel and chop eggplant, cover eggplant with a generous amount of salt and let stand for one hour. Thoroughly rinse eggplant and set aside. 2. Combine water, vinegar, salt, and sugar in a large non-reactive stock pot and bring to a boil. 3. While waiting for the brine to boil thinly slice the lemon with the peel, wash the mint, and thinly chop the chipotle. 4. Divide spices, eggplant, lemon and mint into two sterilized 1/2 gallon containers. 5. Once the brine has boiled for 15 minutes, distribute it evenly in both containers. 6. Refrigerate for three days.