Happier meals are here again.

THERE IT WAS FOR A THIRD TIME. ANXIOUS TAPPING beneath the table. An hour into what should have been a delightful, hosted luncheon with a favorite colleague at my side (in what sounded like steel-toe Allen Edmunds), he leaned in close and whispered, "I'm antsy. I just can't sit here anymore. Sorry Newman. I'm outta' here."

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I should have been annoyed. I should have told him to pipe down and appreciate the branzino that was before us and share his thoughts about our wine pairing. I should have kicked him. Or maybe just a sharp glance would have done the trick. But I did none of these things. Instead, I said nothing. What was even more disturbing about the incident was that I envied him when he made the bold move to stand and exit politely. I wanted to follow. But I was caught behind the heavy banquette, the service staff pushing it close to me after helping my friend out. Trapped. Possibly for hours. And this was only the second in a series of courses to come.

What happened to me? I had no pressing appointment. No deadline. Only an undeniable, built-in sense of urgency. I was unable to shake the need to get up and go. Somewhere. Had I been sucked into a vacuous, unappreciative, homogenous culture that moved at breakneck speed? Or was I blowing an isolated incident completely out of proportion?

The next morning, I walked to the boulangerie and bought a Bay Bread artisan baguette. I gave it a good toasting, bathed it in local Marin County butter and added a swathe of huckleberry preserves from the Mendocino Coast. I cursed myself for accidentally purchasing pre-ground (what was I thinking?) Fog Lifter Blend coffee on my last trip to the Monterey Peninsula. Then I lingered--longer than usual, watching the dense fog dance across the Richmond District, out towards Sea Cliff--until it dissipated--hours later.

Yes, this extra contemplation would make up for my sinful fast-forward thinking the previous afternoon.

But I was wrong. It didn't.

By now over 80,000 members (and more folks) worldwide know the story of farm activist, Jose Bove who drove a tractor into a McDonald's[R] slated to open in the old city of Bra, Italy. The maneuver was a show of tactical force by both opponents; the corporate goliath, Ronald McDonald[R] with the blazon to stick his Pantone[R] 123 'M' in the Piazza Bra. Mr. Bove, the tread-upon farmer had his own designs for McDonald's[R]. His tractor stunt was in blatant disregard of the "Logo and Trademark Standards" Number Three, 'Improper Logo Usage' that cites, "The 'M' should never be obstructed by any item; it should be seen in its entirety and not overpowered by other designs."

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This incident (and another similar crusade against McDonald's[R] in Rome) was enough to incite Slow Food, literally a direct-response campaign that began in 1986, but without the hard sell. The organization doesn't need one. It's hard to dispute its platform. The message(s) is powerful, pensive and persuasive.

Slow Food is dedicated to preserving and supporting traditional ways of growing, producing and preparing food. The cause and effect: awareness and imaginable reconcilement to globalization. Slow Food is, in fact, becoming its own sect of what organizers refer to as "virtuous globalization", accelerating its vision beyond the small farmer, artisan bread baker or cheese monger, to publicly traded, organic-supported grocery chains like Whole Foods Market (WFMI) or Wild Oats (OATS). The market is ripe--so is the timing as these stores take advantage of an increased in quality foods. 'Organic' once a fledging and transient topic in the 1960s and 1970s has been given a new life. Yes, there is strength, as Carlo Petrini, Slow Food's founder professes, in ideas.

And so the Slow Food Manifesto declares, "A firm defense of quiet material pleasure is the only way to oppose the universal folly of Fast Life." Food takes on a higher level of understanding. It is about freshness, health benefits, preservation, supporting farmers, building community, preserving diversity and building a future network of farmers. Indeed, the creed is a lofty, but peaceful one.

With clever and intelligent concepts like the 'Ark' and the 'Presidia', Slow Food looks after the defense of such items as the black celery of Trevi or the Vesuvian apricot. Animals like the long-tailed sheep of Laticauda, and a Sienese pig are getting media play. Who thought endangered handmade cheeses and salamis would have a voice (or 80,000 voices)?

What's given Slow Food a huge boost is the lingering toll mad cow, foot and mouth disease, and the debate over genetically-modified food has played. At one time, issues that may have been a magnet for a certain social class, perhaps the concerns of a WASP culture (for example, the fate of the Paduan hen) have suddenly acquired political importance and popularity--that cross class lines. Its ideology is pervasive--especially as Slow Food opens local chapters, in a city near you.

The morning of my apology-driven breakfast, I thought it best I tackle the Manifesto. But I didn't turn to Carlo Petrini (or Marx and Engels, for that matter). Instead, I felt more kinship with Henry David Thoreau. It was Walden that was inspirational, and a source from which Slow Food might seek solace. The latter chapters describe a spiritual communion with the natural world that would eventually make Thoreau one of the founders of our modern appreciation for nature and ecology.

In Chapter Seven, 'The Bean Field', Thoreau writes of a summer he spent dedicated to planting "seven miles of beans". He asks himself, "What was the meaning of this so steady and self respecting Herculean labor I knew not? The beans attached me to the earth and so I got strength like Antaues. But why should I raise them? Only Heaven knows."

Thoreau's deep appreciation for life's frailties and pleasures is strong this particular summer. Cultivating a crop--something as simple as a bean--enlivened his sense of being. This recognition of pleasure is at the heart of Slow Food, and what seems the diminishing law of today.

Thoreau goes on to write, "Ancient poetry and mythology suggest, at least, that husbandry was once a sacred art; but if pursued with irreverent haste and needless-ness by us, our object being to have large farms and large crops merely."

Consider how Thoreau is redefining the idea of farming by translating it into metaphorical terms. No longer is it about money, but it is about cultivating thoughts and relinquishing them to the future. Much of his writing was for the unknown reader of the future (like Slow Food members) and Thoreau received little monetary gain for planting his seeds in the minds of readers. He goes on to say, "By avarice and selfishness, and a groveling habit, from which none of us is free, of regarding the soil as property, or the means of acquiring property chiefly, the landscape is deformed. Husbandry is degraded with us and the farmer leads the meanest of lives. He knows nature but as a robber."

As for the "robbers", the Romans considered the profits from farming and agriculture pious and those who cultivated for this purpose to lead useful lives. Perhaps an analogy for many a multinational company today.

A $60 buy-in offers membership into not just another gastronomical society, but an organization that embraces new ideas and reaches out to old ones. While rejecting an apathetic, apolitical and uninformed culture, Slow Food never forgets about the central premise of food--sure pleasure.

I put down Walden and broke off another piece of my baguette knowing that it was not completely practical to think about the Manifesto or world hunger or an endangered species of salami before, during and after each toasty bite--but instead enjoyed my meal--as I always had. The proof of appreciation, Slow Food's greater message--in the crust.

ANNE QUATRANO

CLIFFORD HARRISON

Bacchanalia, Atlanta, GA

IT'S HARD TO BE A FARMER IN THE UNITED STATES in 2004. If you aren't part of a larger network or corporate conglomerate, the trade offers little opportunity or chance for success.

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There's haste in this sentiment that's not always so.

Plenty of small, privately-run farms do thrive. That's where Anne Quatrano and Clifford Harrison come in. For these two chefs, farming is as much a part of their daily experience as their other commitments--running two restaurants (Bacchanalia and Floataway Cafe) and a culinary supply store (Star Provisions).

Twelve years ago, the couple moved to Anne's mother's farm in the Peach State, many acres away from the Big Apple. Starting out with only a couple dairy cows and chickens, Anne and Clifford learned the lay of the land, eventually expanding the farm to 60 acres. The couple is completely farm-ensconced.

"We even got ourselves some horses, though they don't produce much of anything but great manure!"

When we shook hands, Anne introduced herself as 'Annie', a name well-suited to both worlds--those where checks and whites rule and the other where the decree means dungarees.

So can the twains meet? Absolutely.

"I've been into slow food since I worked for Judy Rogers at Zuni Cafe in San Francisco. In the 1980s, we were right in the middle of the movement. Judy (and Alice Waters) were some of the first people taking cooking back to its origins--an artisanal craft.

"At Zuni, farmers would come to the back door--still dirty--with buckets of lettuce and stuff them in the sink. I had been on the East Coast and in the restaurant business for a while, but, at that time, this connection just wasn't there! Kitchens were pristine and clean and you didn't know where your produce--and sometimes meat and dairy--was coming from."

Annie's stuck to her guns, that is, those artisanal principals.

"For me, the heart of slow food is local ingredients, taking good care of them and supporting the local farmers who produce them." And that's just what she fosters on the family farm.

For example, the staff at Bacchanalia gathers their own eggs, and even helps work on the farm. Anne tells us their pastry chef has left permanently--for the farm.

What is it about terra....

"A tight bond with the farm brings you back to basics, especially now, with a war and other unsettling world events going on. There's a definite need and desire for the image of the farmer and the home-cooked meal. That's what is at the root of family life."

"We're in this industry because we truly enjoy feeding people. It's a basic instinct. There's nothing more fundamental than producing. It's healthier to eat what is grown locally and in our case, 90 percent of what is grown locally is organic. There are few farmers who work on a small basis."

"We have an acre dedicated to herbs. The goats are milked. We have Jersey cows. There are 180 hens that produce about 100 eggs a day and that exist on a diet of bugs and brioche! And we have pigs. But the pigs have become part of the family. They just run around and eat what you don't want in your yard anyway."

Living so close to ingredients inspired Anne and Clifford to open a store that virtually opens up the restaurant's pantry and walk-in to their patrons.

"We wanted to offer the raw ingredients to people in Atlanta. So we opened a food shop that doesn't focus on prepared foods. We encourage people to take the products home and cook them. And we staffed our store with chefs. Everyone who works in the store has a culinary degree."

The farm and the restaurant rule the couple's life. As Anne says, "Your personal life is your professional life. The two intertwine."

Clifford begins each day on the farm and ends it at Bacchanalia for dinner service. Anne, on the other hand, begins her day at Bacchanalia, then cruises over to Floataway Cafe.

Anne did most of the talking for the couple during our morning together. As for Clifford, you might have guessed where he was ... He was on the farm, keeping plenty busy between the chickens, the eggs and the pigs.

RELATED ARTICLE: Country Terrine with Giardiniera (Serves 12)

anne quatrano & clifford harrison

Chiroubles Domaine de lo Grosse Pierre

Alain Passot

Beaujolais, France 2002

directions

For the country terrine: Combine brandy and bay leaves; let sit for 24 hours and strain, discarding bay leaves; set aside. Preheat oven to 200 degrees. Combine bread with milk and soak until the milk is absorbed; squeeze as much milk out of bread as possible and set aside. Using a chilled meat grinder fitted with the medium die, grind chicken, livers, pork and fat back into a large bowl over an ice water bath. Divide the ground meats by half and pass one half through the grinder for a second time. Gently incorporate all ground meats with brandy, soaked bread and remaining ingredients except bacon. Lightly brush inside of a 10 X 3 1/2 X 3 1/2-inch terrine mold with vegetable oil. Line inside of terrine with plastic wrap and bacon slices. Press meat mixture into terrine mold and fold bacon and plastic over top. Place in a warm water bath and cook in oven to an internal temperature of 150 degrees. Remove from oven and cool until internal temperature is 110 degrees. Place a fitted weight on top and refrigerate overnight. Remove weight and plastic wrap. Cut into 3/4-inch thick slices and set aside, keeping cool.

For the giardiniera: Combine zest, lemon juice, marjoram, sugar, vinegar and olive oil; whisk until emulsified. Toss vegetables in vinaigrette and season with salt to taste.

To serve: Place a slice of terrine on plate and arrange giardiniera. Garnish with a quenelle of mustard.

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ingredients

For the country terrine:

3/4 cup brandy
10 bay leaves, crushed
1 cup crustless and roughly chopped white bread
1/2 cup milk
12 ounces chicken breast, boneless, skinless and cut into 2-inch cubes
4 chicken livers
8 ounces pork butt, cut into 2-inch cubes
4 ounces fat back, cut into 2-inch cubes
6 cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped
2 teaspoons stemmed and finely chopped sage
2 teaspoons stemmed and finely chopped thyme
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1/2 teaspoon Tabasco[R]
2 eggs
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
2 tablespoons salt
2 teaspoons black pepper
1 small black truffle, finely chopped
1 cup pistachios, lightly toasted
3 ounces proscuitto, finely chopped
14 slices bacon

For the giardiniera:

Zest of 1/2 lemon
Juice of 1 lemon
1 sprig marjoram, stemmed
2 teaspoons granulated sugar
2 tablespoons Champagne vinegar
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
18 baby carrots, blanched and halved
6 baby turnips, blanched and quartered
6 baby Chioggia beets, blanched and quartered
6 radishes, quartered
4 baby sweet onions, blanched and quartered
12 garlic scapes*
Kosher salt to taste

For the garnish:

Whole grain mustard

* The curly flower stalks of garlic; available in summer months.

RELATED ARTICLE: Slow-Roasted Porchetta with Braised Collard Greens (Serves 24)

anne quatrano & clifford harrison

Tilenus

Pagos de Posado

Bierzo, Spain 2000

directions

For the porchetta: In a large plastic container or bucket, add pork leg and completely cover with salt water; add one cup of salt for each gallon of water. Brine in refrigerator for at least five days; change salt water daily. Preheat oven to 500 degrees. Remove pork from brine and air-dry. Horizontally score skin and fat, leaving one inch between each slit. In a food processor fitted with the metal blade, combine fennel seeds, red pepper flakes, garlic and salt; pulse until coarsely chopped. Rub fennel seed mixture into pork, working mixture into slits. Transfer pork to a roasting pan; roast in oven for 30 minutes. Reduce oven temperature to 250 degrees, combine lemon juice with olive oil and pour over pork; continue to roast for about 12 hours, checking frequently after 11 hours (the meat should fall from the bone when done). Remove from oven and let rest for 40 minutes.

For the collard greens: In a pot, render ham hocks. Add white vinegar, maple syrup, water and a large pinch of salt; bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for about one hour. Add collard greens; cook for 10 to 15 minutes or until greens are tender. Remove from cooking liquid and set aside. Reserve two cups of cooking liquid and discard the rest. In a pan, combine cooking liquid, chicken stock, sherry vinegar, garlic and red pepper flakes; bring to a simmer and reduce by half. Add collard greens, heat through and season with salt and pepper to taste.

To serve: Pull pieces of porchetta with skin from bone and arrange on plate with collard greens. Drizzle with sauce from collard greens.

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ingredients

For the porchetta:

1 pork leg, bone in
  Water, as needed
  Kosher salt, as needed
1 cup fennel seeds, toasted
1 tablespoon red pepper flakes
8 cloves garlic, peeled
1 tablespoon kosher salt
1/2 cup lemon juice
1 cup olive oil

For the collard greens:

5 ham hocks, skin and meat pulled from bone and finely chopped
2 quarts white vinegar
1 quart maple syrup
4 gallons water
12 pounds young collard greens, stemmed and torn into pieces
1 cup brown chicken stock
1/2 cup sherry vinegar
8 cloves garlic, roasted, peeled and crushed into a paste
1 tablespoon red pepper flakes
Salt and pepper to taste

RELATED ARTICLE: Braised Salt Cod with Fennel Sausage and Tarbais Beans (Serves 6)

anne quatrano & clifford harrison

Vermentino, Tenuta Belvedere

Antinori

Bolgheri, Italy 2003

directions

For the salt cod: Place cod fillets in a perforated hotel pan, skin side down, and cover with salt. Place perforated pan over a hotel pan, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for five days. Rinse salt from cod fillets and soak in plenty of water for about eight hours, changing water at least three times. Remove cod, pat dry and cut each fillet into three pieces; set aside.

For the fennel sausage: Using a meat grinder fitted with the medium die, grind pork and fat into a bowl. Chill in refrigerator for 30 minutes. Gently incorporate remaining ingredients except casings. Transfer to a sausage stuffer fitted with the medium nozzle. Place casings over nozzle and fill with meat mixture, tying off at desired sausage size. Cut sausages into 1-inch pieces and brown in a saute pan. Set aside, keeping warm.

For the braised salt cod: In a pot, heat olive oil. Add onions, carrots, fennel and garlic; saute until onions are translucent. Add remaining ingredients and bring to a simmer. Add salt cod and sausage, continuing to simmer for about six minutes. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

To serve: Ladle into soup bowls.

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ingredients

For the salt cod:

2 1-pound cod fillets, skin on
8 ounces kosher salt

For the fennel sausage:

1 1/2 pounds pork shoulder, cut into 2-inch cubes
8 ounces fat back, cut into 2-inch cubes
2 tablespoons fennel seeds, toasted
1 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1 clove garlic, peeled and finely chopped
1 teaspoon salt
Medium hog casings as needed

For the braised salt cod:

1 teaspoon olive oil
1 medium white onion, peeled and finely chopped
1 medium carrot, peeled and finely chopped
1 small fennel bulb, trimmed and finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, peeled and thinly sliced
2 bay leaves
Pinch of red pepper flakes
1 pound San Marzano tomatoes, drained, seeds removed and roughly
  chopped*
2 cups cooked tarbais beans**
2 medium russet potatoes, peeled, cubed and cooked
1 1/2 quarts chicken stock
Salt and pepper to taste

* A type of tomato, named for the area where it is grown in Campania, Italy.

** Cannellini beans can be substituted.

RELATED ARTICLE: Brodo with Porcini and Artichoke (Serves 4)

anne quatrano & clifford harrison

Mercurey Blanc

Domaine du Meix Foulot

Burgundy, France 2002

directions

For the brodo: In a pot, heat olive oil. Add garlic and saute until light golden (do not brown). Add chicken stock, bring to a simmer and season with salt and pepper to taste. Add red pepper flakes and artichokes, continuing to simmer until artichokes are tender. Add porcinis, mizuna and poached eggs and remove from heat.

To serve: Gently ladle brodo into soup bowls, sprinkle with pepper and garnish with lemon zest.

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ingredients

For the brodo:

1 teaspoon olive oil
1 clove garlic, peeled and thinly sliced
1 1/2 quarts chicken stock
Red pepper flakes to taste
4 artichoke hearts, cut into sixths and soaked in lemon-water
4 porcini mushrooms, thinly sliced
1 bunch mizuna, stemmed
4 eggs, poached
Salt and pepper to taste

For the garnish:

Freshly ground black pepper
Lemon zest, thick strips

RELATED ARTICLE: Shellfish Billy Bi (Serves 6)

anne quatrano & clifford harrison

Albarino, Cepas Vellas

Do Ferreiro

Rias Baixas, Spain 2001

directions

For the billy bi: In a heavy-bottom pot, heat half of the olive oil. Add garlic and half of the carrots, celery and onions; saute until onions are translucent. Deglaze with verjus and wine. Add mussels and clams; cover and cook until shells are just open. Remove mussels and clams and set aside. Strain cooking liquid through a fine-mesh sieve and set aside. In the same pot, heat remaining olive oil; add remaining carrots, celery and onions; cook until onions are translucent. Add chicken stock, cream and reserved cooking liquid. Bring to a simmer and add prawns, lobster and crawfish; cook for four minutes. Add reserved mussels and clams, simmering to heat through. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

To serve: Ladle billy bi into soup bowls, sprinkle with herbs and serve with baguette slices.

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ingredients

For the billy bi:

2 tablespoons olive oil
2 cloves garlic, peeled and thinly sliced
1 medium carrot, peeled and finely chopped
1 rib celery, finely chopped
1 medium onion, peeled and finely chopped
1 cup verjus
1 cup white wine
2 pounds mussels, debearded
2 pounds littleneck clams
1 1/2 cups chicken stock
1 1/2 cups heavy cream
1 pound prawns, shells removed
1/2 pound lobster meat, cut into bite-size pieces
1 pound crawfish meat
Salt and pepper to taste

For the garnish:

Parsley, finely chopped
Chervil, finely chopped
Chives, finely chopped
Baguette slices, buttered and toasted