 by Jerry Novesky & Janet Crawshaw Issue 47 (September-November 09) [Copyright © 2009, The Valley Table] It's no longer worth beating our collective heads against the wall over how the Hudson Valley compares to the Napa Valley (it doesn't) or whether the Hudson Valley will ever be recognized more as a unified region than as a collection of counties that may or may not share a common vision (it has been; and they don't). What was less than a spark only a dozen or so years ago is now at least a glowing ember if not a full-blown fire--the Hudson Valley as an entity in its own right has (with a nod to Woody Allen) grown from a notion to a concept to an idea and beyond. Not that the valley hasn't had a myriad of forces working counter to a unified identity. As the original and most accessible corridor leading to the "interior" of this quadrant of the New World (as Henry Hudson discovered 400 years ago), the river later became the young republic's most significant highway for commerce and early industry and a magnet for almost everything commercial. (Even today, there's an undeniable pride in mentioning your business is "on the river.") Nonetheless, what the Hudson Valley had going for it for several hundred years was the extraordinary natural beauty of the valley itself and its rich and storied agricultural legacy, which stretches well back into the seventeenth century (when "The Broncks" literally was one step from wilderness). The Hudson River School of painting arguably still influences artists and photographers to this day. By the mid-nineteenth century, when the transportation networks up and down the river became fairly established and the "industrial revolution" introduced the concept of "free time," people began to view their environs not as an obstacle but as a source of recreation. The well-to-do and the working class sought the natural peace and beauty offered by the mid- and upper reaches of the river. But the ongoing cultural diversity that made the Hudson Valley so rich also contributed to its economic and social stratification. The region could not be considered a single, coherent "upstate resort" area because large segments of the population were socially excluded from major portions of it. Greene and Dutchess County resorts, for example, were so exclusionary right through the mid-twentieth century that both Jewish and Black Americans set up their own resorts and vacation enclaves elsewhere (in Sullivan and Orange Counties, respectively). While tourists and travelers capitalized on the constantly improving transportation along the river, throughout the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, farmers literally could watch their livelihoods sail downriver as the inland and Midwestern agricultural industry used the Mohawk/Hudson corridor to ship products to the important New York City markets (which, to the chagrin of modern locals, many valley farmers do today.) The valley seemed hell-bent on selling its very soul through the 1950s and into the 60s, when a singular event seemed to cause a sea change, not only here but indeed throughout the country, if not beyond. The defeat in 1980 of the proposed Con Ed nuclear power plant/pump station at Storm King--right smack in the heart of the river's most scenic stretch--spearheaded by the environmental group Scenic Hudson, had ramifications far beyond preserving the pretty snapshot vistas that could be taken from a scenic overlook on Route 9W or 9D. The idea that "The Hudson" and its environs in toto were worth saving brought the entire valley into sharper focus. From there it was no stretch at all to include "agriculture" as a significant scenic element, even if it was not viewed as a viable element in the regional economy by those bent on residential or commercial development. The current interest in regionally based cuisine simply could not have happened without a corresponding awareness of the importance of locally produced foodstuffs, which, of course, presupposes there is land on which to produce the stuff. Whether one or more Hudson Valley products will emerge as its icon (Napa has its wine, Gilroy has its garlic, Boston had its beans) remains to be seen. Will it be wine? (The valley has, after all, received an American Viticultural Area (AVA) designation, and there has been an unquestionable improvement in the standing of Hudson Valley wines among some wine aficionados.) Or will the artisanal cheesemakers (already internationally recognized) dominate? The valley historically has been home to some of the finest dairy farms anywhere, and world-famous butter and cream have paraded "Hudson Valley" on their labels. And let's not forget the fact that at one time, the Hudson Valley was among the top apple-producing areas in the country. Though many of the expansive orchards in Orange and Ulster Counties are now gone, there are enough left to make a legitimate case for reviving regional distilleries--particularly for distilling local fruit into eau de vie and vodka--a fact that hasn't been lost down in Warwick, up in Gardiner or over in Chatham. While a single product probably won't win the Hudson Valley identity sweepstakes, there does seem to be unified, or at least collective, consciousness about Hudson Valley farms and wineries--indeed, a Hudson Valley "cuisine." It stretches back 30 or 40 years or so, but it's been brought out of the closet (that is, has become marketable) only over the last decade or so. Forty years ago, a young Hudson Valley chef was gaining high praise and recognition for his cuisine. John Novi, chef/owner of the Depuy Canal House in High Falls, was pushing the culinary boundaries and helped to usher in a new American cuisine, intermingling fresh, locally grown foods with ingredients from around the world. While half a million of us cavorted at the Woodstock festival, Novi was quietly developing a cuisine that helped put the Hudson Valley on the culinary map. In his 1995 book, The Hudson River Valley Cookbook, Chef Waldy Malouf heralded the awakening of the American food consciousness, specifically in the Hudson Valley. Malouf, then chef at New York's Rainbow Room (and formerly at The Hudson River Club) pioneered using regional, seasonal foods grown by local farmers and crafted by local artisans. There is ample evidence that what had been a nascent food movement has fully arrived in the Hudson Valley: -- You literally can't go anywhere these days without either seeing an "eat local" banner or hearing an "eat local" mantra. -- Farmers markets in the Hudson Valley (in fact, throughout the country) are flourishing. -- Chefs throughout the valley have renewed connections with local farms, creating intensely flavored, intensely pleasurable dishes--and they're naming their local sources right on their menus. -- The approach to cooking that Novi and Malouf pioneered and so many Hudson Valley chefs propelled forward is being enthusiastically embraced by more and more people. Eating in the valley is much better now than it was 30 years ago. In the same literary tradition, two newly released books pay tribute to the farms and farmers of the Hudson Valley: Hudson Valley Mediterranean, a cookbook and homage to local seasonal eating from Laura Pensiero, owner of the popular Gigi Trattoria in Rhinebeck and Gigi Market/Cafe in Red Hook; and Hudson River Valley Farms, by neighbor Joanne Michaels, a portrayal in photography and essays of Hudson Valley farmers. Taken together they show a region that is coming into its own in terms of cuisine--local farm products, artisanal producers, markets and restaurants. Observing the rural renaissance the Hudson Valley is enjoying, Pensiero places the valley in the context of the national "eat local" movement. Pensiero buys from some 40 local producers, which she conveniently includes in an appendix. The book rings the praises of local farmers and artisan producers, providing sources for each crop or ingredient season by season and portraying six of them in short essays. While celebrating the region's culinary awakening, Hudson Valley Mediterranean is first and foremost a cookbook, focusing on fresh, simply prepared food--the kind you want to cook. No fussy sauces. No complex recipes and some favorite dishes from Gigi, including the famous Gigi Tuscan fries, Barbina salad and Bolognese sauce. A chef, registered dietician and author, Pensiero's premise is simple: eat in season, eat local as much as you can, eat healthful--and make it delicious. Pensiero excels with recipes that are easy and straightforward, offering tips on substitutions as well as variations. Her recipe for an All-American biscuit topped chicken stew, for example, includes Mexican, Thai and Indian variations. (Every recipe tried so far--including the Best Local Burger--has been easy to make and a pleasure to eat.) Each recipe includes easy-to-digest nutritional information, emphasizing that eating fresh, seasonal, local ingredients is not only good, but good for you. (Pensiero, by the way, also is the author of The Strang Cookbook for Cancer Prevention.) In Hudson River Valley Farms, Michaels and photographer Rich Pomerantz create memorable portraits of 44 farms and artisan producers, from Rockland and Westchester Counties to the Albany/Rensselaer region. Many of the faces will be familiar to Valley Table readers. The book gives a good picture of the diversity of farms in the valley, though, as Michaels laments, "The forty-four included here are representative of hundreds of others I wish I could have visited." Postscript: The Hudson Valley's identity as "foodshed" has not been generated by professional branders or copywriters--it has grown organically from the people within who recognize and celebrate the region, marking the valley's identity as food destination. Pauline Adema, a Dutchess County folklorist, examines the role of food and festivals in creating a place brand or marketable identity in Garlic Capital of the World. In particular, she examines how Gilroy, California, successfully transformed a negative association with garlic into a highly successful tourism and marketing campaign. Adema notes, "The success of place branding rests on consumer perceptions and experiences of the place. If consumers accept the association between the place and the icon--if they buy into the brand--then the branding is successful. A successful place-branding campaign cannot be done solely from the outside in or from the top down--it necessitates inclusion of locals." Following Adema's food-themed, image-making thesis, the evolution of the Hudson Valley's image as a food destination seems ready to fly. Hudson Valley Mediterranean: The Gigi Good Food Cookbook, by Laura Pensiero (New York: HarperCollins, 2009); hardcover, $30 Hudson River Valley Farms, by Joanne Michaels; photography by Rich Pomerantz (Morris Book Publishing, 2009); hardcover, $29.95 Garlic Capital of the World: Gilroy, Garlic, and the Making of a Festive Foodscape, by Pauline Adema (University Press of Mississippi, 2009); unjacketed cloth, $55; paperback, $25 The Hudson River Valley Cookbook: A Leading American Chef Savors the Region's Bounty, by Waldy Malouf with Molly Finn (Harvard Common Press, 1995); paperback, $17.95 | 
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