The Celebrity Farmer Next Door
Chicken Breasts with Farro and Chino Farms Delicata Squash + Two Burgundies Worth Seeking Out
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My toddler wouldn’t take a nap. I had just been telling a friend about our new ritual, this daily pas de deux between my two year and me. I read him books, he does somersaults in the bed, I sing him songs, he pokes me in the eye as I drift off to sleep. I throw him in the car, buckle him up and drive east to Rancho Santa Fe. The shopping centers and condos give way thickets of eucalyptus and gated long driveways, beautiful and monotonous enough to put a toddler to sleep. I do a U-turn as soon as I hear snoring in the backseat, the sweet seesawing beath of success.
“Right. Then you go to Chino Farms.” She said this with the certainty of someone who has done the same routine with three boys, now all past the need for naps. My face contorted in a mixture of confusion and FOMO. What was Chino Farms?
“The Chino Farms. They sell to all the restaurants.” I shook my head dumbly. “Here’s what you do. Drive east on Lomas Santa Fe, turn right at the four-way stop, look for a sign that says, ‘The Vegetable Shop’. He’s asleep by the time you get there. You do your shopping at the farm stand while your kid is passed out in the car with the windows down.”
All this time I had been turning left at the stop sign, when I could have been shopping for French strawberries, micro marjoram, and elephant ear-sized hoja santa leaves at the farm made famous by Alice Waters and Wolfgang Puck.
The story of Chino Farms is an unlikely one a century in the making. In the 1920’s Junzo Chino and Hatsuyo Noda, both recent immigrants from Japan, met in Los Angeles where both families worked in the farming community. After selling their produce to the wholesale markets for several years, they decided to move south to the northern reaches of San Diego County. During WWII, Junzo and Hatsuyo were put in an internment camp in Arizona along with their children. The house and land they had left behind in the trust of a friend, was sold, along with all their possessions, while they were away. They restarted from scratch, eventually purchasing 56 acres of land in the San Dieguito Valley, just a few miles to the east of the ocean and the famous Del Mar Racetrack.
In the early years their produce was all sold through wholesalers in Los Angeles, conventional offerings with a guaranteed audience: strawberries, corn, tomatoes. Anything exotic by American standards of the time, they would grow and eat themselves. As some of their children began to return from university to help on the farm again, they encouraged their parents to start a retail roadside operation. The Vegetable Shop opened the summer of 1969.
It was one of their regular Vegetable Shop customers who introduced Alice Waters to Chino Farms who then went on to introduce the family to Wolfgang Puck. So it was that Chino Farms fava beans and lettuce hearts and melons were making weekly appearances on the menus of the top restaurants in the state in the 1980’s when California cuisine was on the rise.
On a recent visit I found myself perusing trays of green and yellow striped Delicata squash, juicy mission figs, bushy sweet potato leaves, all attractively laid out as if auditioning for a Danish still life painting. Beside me a burly chef hoisted a tray of butternut squash to load in his truck while asking an employee if they grew a lettuce called “reine” and if not, could they grow it especially for him. A man who had the cautious look of a first timer picked up a pale green orb and was informed politely by a staff member that he was holding a pineapple guava, surely something never found at the Vons down the road.
Giddy with autumnal vibes, I loaded my arms with squash - Kabocha and two varieties of Delicata. I picked up one basket of figs, then decided on a second, to which an employee responded, “You might as well, as long as they are here!” Whether she meant in season or before someone else bought them, I couldn’t tell. I even picked up a basket of strawberries, likely some of the last we will see this year. I’d take them home to share with my now three-year-old, to enjoy for a snack after his nap.
For more of the fascinating story of the Chino family, I highly recommend this New Yorker profile by Mark Singer in the November 22, 1992 issue.
Recipe
Chicken Breasts with Farro and Delicata Squash
In the mood for fall, I found myself daydreaming of a stove top, braised farro dish cooked with unpeeled Delicata squash and combined at the end with chicken breasts, juicy from a yogurt marinade. The result is somewhere between a pilaf and a risotto (or farratto, as the Italians call it when you cook farro, risotto-style). It can make for a simple-ish weeknight dinner as long as you remember to put the chicken in the marinade the morning of or night before.
Marinade
3 cloves garlic, grated
1 tsp. tomato paste
1 T. fresh oregano, minced
½ tsp. salt
¼ tsp. ground black pepper
½ cup whole milk yogurt
3 chicken breasts (about 1.5 lb. total)
Farro
1 ½ cup pearled farro
1 lb. Delicata squash
6 T. olive oil
1 small onion, chopped
2 garlic cloves, minced
½ T. fresh rosemary, minced
1 tsp. Harissa spice mix*
½ cup dry white wine
3 cup low sodium chicken broth
½ tsp. salt
¼ tsp. ground black pepper
2 T. fresh mint, minced
1 T. fresh oregano, minced
¼ cup pine nuts, toasted
*Harissa spice mixes may have varying levels of heat. I use a modest amount here knowing you can always sprinkle some at the ended if you like your spicier.
At least two hours before cooking, in a small bowl, mix together all ingredients for the marinade except the chicken. Place chicken in a non-reactive glass or plastic bowl and toss with the marinade to coat. Cover and refrigerate until ready to cook.
Rise farro thoroughly.
Trim and discard stems from the squash. Cut in half lengthwise and scoop out and discard seeds. Cut each half into half circles about 1 cm thick (you can eat the peel of the Delicata squash, but if you prefer, you can trim and discard the peel).
Heat 3 T. olive oil in a Dutch oven or large pot over medium heat. Add onion and sauté for about 5 minutes stirring occasionally until softened but not browned. Add garlic, rosemary and harissa spice and sauté for another 2 minutes. Add the white wine and raise the heat, bringing to a boil. When the wine is reduced by half, add the chicken stock and bring to a boil. Add farro, sliced squash, salt and pepper, stirring to combine. Reduce heat to medium low, cover, and let simmer for 20 minutes.
Meanwhile, heat remaining olive oil in a large sauté pan over medium high heat. Scrape marinade off the chicken. While oil is hot, add the chicken to the pan leaving space between each breast so as not to crowd. Use two pans or cook in two batches if necessary. Cook for about 4 minutes per side until golden brown on each side and cooked through with no pink left in the center.
Set chicken aside to rest for five minutes, then slice each breast in half on a slight diagonal. When farro has cooked for 20 minutes, remove lid and taste. The farro should be just cooked through at this point but still a bit firm, the squash should also be about cooked through but not falling apart. Adjust seasoning with more salt and pepper if desired. If the liquid had totally evaporated at this point, add in another ½ cup of chicken stock or water and bring back to a simmer. Nestle chicken into the farro pot leaving the most attractive browned side of each breast facing up. Put the lid back on and continue to cook for another 5 minutes to bring flavors together.
You can serve the whole pot right on the table with mint, oregano and pine nuts to garnish.
To Drink…
Domaine Gros Frere et Soeur Bourgogne Hautes-Côtes de Nuits 2019, From $38
Domaine Denis Carré Bourgogne Hautes-Côtes de Beaune La Perriere 2020, From $30
Oh Burgundy. Why do you make it so hard to love you?
If like me, you have been seduced by the magic of a Richebourg, Pommard or Echezeaux, then you know that except for the truly fortunate among us with the money and access, these great bottles are nearly entirely out of reach. Years of vintages plagued by frost and hail and hot summers have made for poor yields when at the same time, new interest in Burgundy, mainly driven from wealthy Asian collectors, is at an all-time high, pushing prices eye-bleed territory.
Yet, like with any great love, I keep trying to find a way in.
I’ve held out hope for some years now that climate change, the very thing making the great crus of Burgundy so unreliable, will have a positive effect on the higher altitude vineyards. The Hautes-Côtes de Nuits and Hautes-Côtes de Beaune vineyards stretch out across the hills to the West of Burgundy’s most famous, and expensive, land yet typically cost a fraction of the price. In that spirit, I’ve tried nearly every “Hautes-Côtes” I can get my hands on, mostly to end up disappointed. Too thin, too sweet, a nose that holds promise of an enjoyable Burgundy only to drop off a cliff after one sip. Until finally, I’ve landed on two I feel worthy of our home cellar.
Because these can be hard to come by, this week I offer two options in the hopes you can also get your hands on one of these. By all means, if you find another Hautes-Cotes, give it a try. Or if you happen to have a bottle of Richebourg, why not open it up? Because wine is meant to be drunk, and I can think of nothing lovelier to start fall than sharing a cozy chicken dish with a bottle of my favorite Burgundy.