Well, it’s a long story (so I’ll save the super-duper long version for the book … no, really!) but for now I’ll give you the long version.

I’ve been having problems with sore feet for the past couple years — blamed it on aging, wearing the wrong shoes, etc., etc.) — but then early this winter, I noticed my 2nd and 4th toes were swollen, red, and itching like hell around the toenails. I assured myself it probably had something to do with my regular pedicures at the salon, so I ditched those, but the swelling and itching got worse. Down deep, I knew what the problem was. It was the family curse.

You see, my maternal grandfather, in his late 40s/early 50s, was diagnosed with psoriasis, an autoimmune disorder that attacks the skin. He had one of the worst cases doctors had ever seen. A lot of psoriasis patients only get patches of psoriasis, and they can be covered by shirts or pants. Not my grandfather. He had it everywhere — not only on his trunk, but his hands, feet, scalp, and arms. You couldn’t not notice it, and believe me, everyone noticed it. By the time I was old enough to realize what was wrong with him, he’d become immune to the stares, the whispers, the withdrawn handshakes. Not I. I used to get angry when people did these things. When I was eight, I remember someone snidely offering that my grandfather had leprosy. I went ape on them, then ran into the house, crying. He suffered for over 20 years with this horrible, disfiguring disease, basically becoming a human pincushion for every skin and immune disorder specialist in New England. In his mid-70s, he finally died of septicemia, a result of infection getting into his body through the open lesions on his skin.

Then ten years ago, my mother was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis, also an autoimmune disorder. Let me just say that this was one of the cruelest diagnoses for her to get because before she got sick, she was a total shoe-a-holic. Imelda was an amateur next to this woman. The rheumatoid attacked her feet, and today she has to order special shoes — not Jimmy Choos, but these ugly clodhoppers from medical supply companies. Years of taking all the new advanced drugs for rheumatoid haven’t alleviated the symptoms of the disease, never mind “cured” it. (Rheumatoid, along with psoriasis, are “incurable” according to medical specialists.) On top of this, she also has the psoriasis and psoriatic arthritis.

And that’s what I have, the psoriatic arthritis. Or I should say, “had.” I’m one of the rare folks who only had the arthritic symptoms, not the skin lesions (although I’ve been assured by the medical community it’s only a matter of time). What choices did I have to control the swelling and itching? A drug that would mean a blood test every six months to see if it was destroying my liver.

Something snapped. It was a long-time coming, a moment when I could see every health problem in my past rushing up to me, screaming out for attention. I remembered a childhood filled with hives and eczema, my teen years with my parents spending thousands of dollars on dermatologists to help control the seborrheic dermatitis in my hair and eyebrows, and on my fingers and lips. And even in adulthood, the strange rashes would come and go,  I got asthma attacks throughout my 30s, and then flattened by pain and lethargy in my early 40s.

Something had to change, and I wasn’t going to take drugs to fix it. I’ve seen what these drugs can do first-hand. Basically, nothing beneficial. Since I know my family has a history of autoimmune diseases, and I know that autoimmune disorders are relatively recent diseases (meaning they didn’t exist until the early 1800s or so — industrialization folks?), I suspected that my environment was triggering a predisposition in my genes. And dammit, I wasn’t going down without a fight.

I spent weeks doing research, focusing on diet. The medical community generally agrees that autoimmune disorders cannot be influenced by diet. However, there are some doctors who do believe diet has a huge affect on them, namely Joel Furhman, MD (who is now something of a hero to me). When I read Eat to Live, more lightbulbs went on in my head. I’ve always been a totally dairy girl — hey, I grew up in Vermont! And then I read that fruits/veggies from the nightshade family and citrus fruits can trigger some anti-immune responses. The hair on my arms stood up when I found that out — I’ve always broken out into terrible rashes eating tomatoes … eggplant makes my mouth itch … and citrus, well, I won’t tell you what a glass of orange juice does to my digestive system. It’s not pretty.

So I designed my own diet, but took it slow. First, I weaned myself off artificial sweeteners. That meant drinking my six morning coffees without Splenda. No problem. I substituted with agave nectar. Then came the day to unhook myself from caffeine. Again, I went slowly, weaning myself down to one cup of coffee a day, then finally switching to tea. Then I went cold. I did have some caffeine withdrawal symptoms, weirdly enough, weeks after I stopped the tea. But then I realized I’d become so caffeine sensitive that the occasional tablespoon of cacao chips I slipped into my morning smoothie were messing with my system, so out went the cacao.

Then came the elimination of white sugar, white flour/wheat, dairy, and processed foods. This wasn’t so hard because by now, I was starting to feel a lot better. (This was maybe two weeks in.) My feet weren’t hurting, the swelling had gone down in my toes, and they didn’t itch as much. Plus, I’m not much of a junk food junkie, detest fast food, and dislike soda, sweetened or diet. At the same time, I started drinking smoothies for breakfast, filled with fruits and veggies like kale, spinach, mango, bananas, and hemp seed, and eating monstrously huge green salads, topped with beans or seasoned tofu and drizzled with delicious dressings I’d been developing in my kitchen. I’d replaced the morning coffee with dandelion tea topped with a splash of Rice Dream. (Seriously, I’m writing this thinking, “Di, are you mad? A year ago you would have laughed at these dreadful concoctions.” But when you feel like your back’s up to the wall, you can get used to anything.)

I used to be a vegetarian in my 20s. Over the last year, I’d been toying with going back to it, but figured it would be too difficult living with two rapacious carnivores. Finally, I made the decision to cut out meat, as well as eggs. Hell, I thought — I’m going to go whole hog here, pardon the pun, and go vegan! Upon which declaration at a family dinner, my younger brother David insisted that PETA had finally robbed me of my brain.

On top of this, I don’t drink alcohol.

So basically I’m a teetotaling gluten-free vegan(ish) eat who avoids citrus and plants from the nightshade family — tomatoes, eggplant, peppers, and potatoes. I say “ish” because I’m not sure I could pass up a small taste of wild Alaskan salmon at some point. I joke with people that I’m on the Gorilla Diet because sometimes I feel like I’m eating what the zookeepers toss into the primate cage.

And I’m here to tell you over the last few months, I’ve been eating some of the best meals of my life, which I’m going to start sharing with you on this blog. I’ve been having a blast trying to make the most of the bounty before me — and it is a bounty! — and I hope you’ll stick around for the new Diana Cooks.

Oh yeah, the psoriatic arthritis. It’s gone. My feet look (and feel) completely normal. Back in February I went to Texas and showed my mother-in-law the last little bit of redness on my toe, and  here it is April, and there’s not red spot anywhere on my body, tootsies included. My skin glows. I’ve lost 16.5 18.5 lbs. since January, and continue to lose about 1/2 to 1 lb. per week. I eat three hearty meals a day and I’m never hungry. On top of all this, I FEEL AMAZING. For the first time in years, I feel like I can think clearly and focus on projects. I have tons of energy. I notice that I’m much more calm and mellow (I’m a redhead — I flare up easily!). My monthly bouts of PMS and cramps? Gone. Friends who haven’t seen me in awhile are looking at me and saying, “Wow, what did you do? You look great!” (That’s always motivating!) One of my doctors suggested that I start walking a mile a day. That was in January … now I’m walking/running 3 to 4 miles a day, and this week, I started at-home weight training. (I dumped the gym membership — my new motto is keep it simple.) And cheap. Our food budget has been slashed. Beans, brown rice, fresh vegetables, and fruit just don’t cost as much as processed food, meat, and dairy. And drumroll … my seven-year-old son now wants to be a vegetarian. I didn’t push him into it. He went there on his own. He’s finding his own way and we’re experimenting with a lot of different flavors and dishes, but I’m really excited about this. Even my meat-loving man has started asking me about stuff like agar-agar and date sugar.

Ok, so that’s the story. In a few days I’ll start posting recipes — maybe even some video!

I’ve been shopping at Verrill Farm since I moved up to Boston from Connecticut over ten years ago. I used to work in Concord, so it was easy for me to slip over to their farmstand for corn or tomatoes. It’s a little more difficult for me to get over there now that I’m farther north, but it’s always a pleasure to go there. They had what seemed like dozens of varieties of heirloom tomatoes each August. Even my son has always loved it here, the kid who whines at nearly every food place I visit. We have dozens of snapshots taken through the years of him playing on the wooden tractor next to the farmstand. Last year, I wrote a story for the Boston Globe about a small pasture-raised chicken operation being run by the Verrill’s farm manager and his wife. You can’t live in the northwest suburbs and not know Verrill Farm.

I was horrified when I learned the Verrill’s farmstand burned down last weekend. Today, this was forwarded to me from the Massachusetts Farm and Market Report. Normally I don’t blog press releases, but I’m making an exception:

A Note From Steve Verrill of Verrill Farm, Concord:

We want to thank everyone in this community and beyond for the over whelming support after our devastating fire at the farm stand on last Saturday, September 20. Fortunately, the fields were untouched. We are harvesting our crops daily and will be selling corn, tomatoes, pumpkins, mums and more from our wagon and tents along Wheeler Road from 9 am – 6 pm every day. In addition, a temporary building has been put up here. Although the selection will be smaller than at the farm stand, you will find familiar items including our own baked goods, produce and other items. Many of you have asked how you can help. One important way is to shop at our temporary stand which supports both the farm and our employees. And, for those of you who would like to contribute to the rebuilding of the stand, we have set up a special account, the Verrill Farm stand Fund, at the Middlesex Savings Bank, 1208 Main Street, West Concord, MA 01742,  Steve Verrill.

Opportunities to Support Verrill Farm:    http://www.verrillfarm.com/fundraising.html
Fund Raising Events

Thanks to all of you who are planning benefits for the Verrill Farm stand Fund. Events will be posted here as we learn about them. We appreciate your thoughtful support.

Saturday, October 4
Acton Oktobertfest
The Acton Farmers Market group is setting up a raffle at the Oktoberfest. Proceeds will go to the Farm stand Fund.

Sunday, October 5th from noon – 3pm
The Old Manse on Monument Street
Farmers Market: A cooperative effort of over a dozen local farms. Proceeds will be donated to the Farm stand Fund.

Sunday, October 19, 2 – 5 pm
Main Street Market & Cafe
Musical group Two for the Show, which regularly performs at Verrill Farm events, is arranging a benefit of musicians. Proceeds will go to the Farm stand Fund.

Loweco Polar Fleece Clothing
Betsy Lowe of Loweco will donate some of the proceeds from her December Barn Boutique Show to the Farm stand Fund.

Verrill Farm is operated as a partnership between Stephen and Joan Verrill and daughter Jennifer Verrill Faddoul. Our farm consists of about 200 acres in Concord and Sudbury. One hundred acres are prime farmland and 100 acres are wildlife habitats, woodlands, and wetlands. Steve’s father and mother moved to Concord in 1918 and started a successful dairy business. In 1957, upon graduation from Cornell University, Steve assumed operation of the farm. In 1982, after years of planning and negotiations, about 200 acres were placed under an Agricultural Preservation Restriction, thus preventing development of this land. This long term commitment gave sharper focus to our agricultural enterprises.

In 1990, the dairy herd was sold and plans began to replace the existing tent retail space with a new farm stand, which was built in 1995. Our location at 11 Wheeler Rd. in Concord now includes retail space for produce, specialty foods and gifts, and a large kitchen/bakery providing high quality baked goods, entrees, homemade soups, and salads.

***

So if there was ever a reason to go out of my way to shop at Verrill’s, this is it. They’ll be seeing more of me this fall.

When mid-July rolls around, my thoughts turn to a story I clipped from the New York Times back in 2003, specifically a recipe for a blueberry chiffon pie created by the Times‘ former food section editor, Amanda Hesser. The first time I tasted it, I swooned inside. The marriage of a cornmeal-based crust with the tart blueberries and tangy lemon in cold-creamy base of fluffy egg whites and rich cream … it’s simply the perfect pie for a hot summer day. So every July, I make it. I’d make it more often, but frankly, it’s a little fiddly and time-consuming, plus I’m the type of cook who likes to flip through her recipe notebook in January, gaze at this pie, and think, “I can’t wait for July!” Anticipation is a secret ingredient in my cooking (and baking!)

Yesterday I picked up a quart of organic blueberries grown about a mile away. It’s a self-serve/honor system place. You drive up to the stand, where boxes of berries are on display, pick the one you want and leave your $7 in a metal box. Next time I’m there, I’ll take a picture. Some people are amazed places like this exist. They’re all over New England. What about your neighborhood?

As I mentioned, this recipe come from the Times. I haven’t made any changes to the recipe, so you’ll have to go there to look at it. If you start making the crust very early in the a.m., you can have a chilled slice of pie for dessert; otherwise, you’ll have to wait until the next morning for your slice. (And yes, we eat pie around here for breakfast. Sometimes for lunch and dinner, too. Don’t you?)

ETA: The pie contains raw egg whites. Since we get our eggs, fresh, from local farms, I’m totally comfortable eating raw egg whites. I’d be more cautious with battery chicken eggs. And you’ll notice the crappy crust on this pie — it was so hot yesterday that the crust kept melting under my fingers. No worries — it might look messy, but it sure is good.

Friday is our pickup day at Bear Hill Farm. We’ve been CSA members for three or four years … can’t remember the exact number of years. But I can’t imagine not being members.

The first few weeks are a little slow, which I actually appreciate. It gently acclimates me (and my refrigerator) to the preparation and storage of vegetables. Tender lettuces must be quickly washed and chilled, lest they wilt — not to mention that having washed greens ready to go for my lunchtime salads makes life pleasant. By mid July, harvest time hits and I appreciate having a system in place for all the greens, squash, beets, kohlrabi, beans, tomatoes, corn, and more … so much more.

So this week our share started to look substantial. In my basket there’s a pound of beets (plus their greens), a head of lettuce, a bunch each of rainbow chard and curly kale, 4 summer squash, 3 kohlrabi, and 2 bok choi. Something else, too, but I forget. (ETA: collard greens! How could I forget my beloved collards?)

###

After I finished filling our basket, we noticed a beautiful bird making a loud racket in the field. Anne, who owns the farm with her husband Mike, told us it was a Guinea Hen, a native of Africa. They’re feral and roam the farm at will. This hen had chicks with her. Can you see the one by her leg? “They’re terrible mothers,” Anne said. I guess the mothers kind of wander off, letting their chicks fend for themselves. Already this mother has lost one of her babies. I felt kind of sympathetic toward this hen, because not five minutes earlier, I’d lost track of the Oyster, who’d been sitting quietly at the picnic bench while I dithered about buying some local cheeses available from a local cheesemonger.

On Fridays we clean out our fridge and bring past-due foodstuffs to feed to the pigs, chickens, and goats. This week we didn’t have anything for them. When the animals figured this out, they refused to pose for photos. However this ameraucana hen did deign to pose for us. Ameraucanas are the hens that lay the lovely blue-green eggs I call “Martha Stewart eggs.” I once heard someone at a farmer’s market ask a vendor if the yolks were green. When I spoke to the vendor later, he said he got the question at least once at every market.

When I get home, I sketch a rough plan for our week’s supply of veggies as I wash and bag them. The beet greens were sauteed with garlic for our Friday side dish, and I made a marinated beet salad, which I’ll eat throughout the week. The bunch of kale was earmarked for a kale and potato soup for Sunday night supper. The lettuce — a no-brainer. That’s for my lunch salads. The squash I’d julienne and toss with warm garlic- and rosemary-infused olive oil, a recipe I’d tested from Carol Field’s Italy in Small Bites. The kohlrabi would be shredded and mixed with shredded Yukon gold potatoes for a latke dinner. Still haven’t figured out the swiss chard or bok choi. Any suggestions?

As I waited the six interminable minutes for my nail polish to dry — sitting still for longer than two minutes makes me antsy; six minutes is excruciating — I glanced over at the cover of the June/July issue of Domino, sitting on my manicurist’s coffee table. One coverline grabbed my attention: “A No-bake Strawberry Pie!”

It was something like 90 degrees that day. Strawberries were abundant at the local farms. I’ve been slaving away on fall and winter recipe assignments in my 100+ degree kitchen. I fell in love with the idea. As soon as the buzzer on my nail dryer went off, what did I do? I ran out of there — without looking at the recipe.

I realized my error later in the afternoon as the temperature in my kitchen crept up to 105 degrees. As luck would have it, Domino had the recipe on their website and last night, I got around to testing it.

It’s a fairly straightforward recipe. I was iffy on the idea of a no-bake graham cracker crust, but it turned out fine. The recipe calls for 2 1/2 cups of graham cracker crusts, so if you buy graham crackers and smash them up yourself, this equals 18 whole crackers, or two packages. (Another tip: rather than using a spoon to pack the crust down, try a 1/4-cup measuring cup, which makes it easier to pack the sides of the pie plate.)

You make the crust while the strawberry filling cools — yes, you do have to use the stovetop — and indeed, your kitchen will be permeated with the smell of strawberries as the recipe promises. The pie must chill overnight (or for 8 hours; you could make it in the a.m. and serve it for tonight’s dessert). Before serving, you top the whole pie with sweetened whipped cream and fresh berries, which I didn’t do. Instead, I garnished each slice with a dollop of cream since I knew the pie wouldn’t be eaten in one session and I didn’t want the pie to get mushy with the weeping cream.

The verdict? The pie tasted wonderful. We all had seconds. As you can see, though, this isn’t a pie you’d want to serve to special guests. The filling didn’t hold its shape well at all and it looked like slop on a plate. I cooked it until it was thick and bubbly, for precisely 7 minutes as the recipe directed, but maybe it wasn’t enough. Whatever. Were I to make this again, I think I’d use a couple sheets of gelatin to give the filling more structure. And while my husband loves graham cracker crusts, I thought this one was too thick for the pie — but I begrudgingly admit it worked without the oven.

This became my favorite lunch soup this winter, although arguably it’s a summer soup with its creamy coconut base and gently poached shrimp, not to mention its intense cilantro essence. (Cilantro haters will run screaming from your kitchen when you make this soup — my two loathers could never be found when this was on the stove.) However, with a half cup of cream stirred in, along with a dollop of tom yum paste and a tablespoon of fresh-chopped fiery bird’s eye chilis, it soothes on the coldest blustery days of December. I know, I made plenty of it during the Christmas season.

I discovered the genesis for this recipe in a delightful book I’d purchased awhile ago, Roast Chicken and Other Stories by Simon Hopkinson. His version contains no shrimp, and I’ve made so few changes to this gem of a recipe that I cannot take an ounce of credit for this soup.

***

Cilantro, Shrimp, and Coconut Soup

Adapted from Roast Chicken and Other Stories by Simon Hopkinson

2 cups chicken broth (preferably homemade, but organic canned/boxed broth will do)

1 heaping teaspoon tom yum paste (this is a Thai sweet-and-sour paste that you can find in any well-stocked Asian market. If you can’t find it, don’t worry — it’s not critical to the dish)

1 tablespoon grated fresh ginger root

1 crushed garlic clove

2 stalks lemon grass, chopped

2 birds eye chilis, finely chopped (actually, I’m not sure if the chilis I buy/use are actually bird’s eyes — they’re tiny, about an inch long, and red, and I buy them at the local Asian market)

5 green onions, white parts only, chopped

1 big bunch of fresh cilantro; cut the stems off the bunch and chop finely, and reserve the leaves for garnish

1 can reduced fat coconut milk (do not confuse with coconut *cream*, which is used in pina coladas and contains a bunch of sugar)

1 tablespoon fresh lime juice

3 tablespoons fish sauce (nam pla), which can be found in Asian markets or a well-stocked supermarket

1 pound 25-32 ct. fresh shrimp, peeled and deveined (you can also use thawed frozen shrimp)

1/2 cup heavy cream

1. In a 3-quart saucepan, heat the chicken broth, tom yum paste, ginger, garlic, lemon grass, chilis, and green onions over medium heat. Let simmer for 30 minutes, keeping an eye on the heat under the pan. (I frequently have to turn it to low to prevent the soup from boiling.)

2. Strain the soup into a heat-proof bowl, discard the aromatics, then return the broth to the saucepan. Add the chopped cilantro stems, coconut milk, lime juice, and fish sauce. Simmer for five minutes, then strain the broth into the heat-proof bowl, discard the stems, and return the broth to the saucepan.

3. Add the shrimp to the broth and cook over medium heat for 4 to 6 minutes, until the shrimp are pink and cooked through. Stir in the cream. Ladle into bowls and top each bowl with 1/4 cup chopped cilantro leaves.

Earlier this year I did a week-long blog at eGullet. Unfortunately I was scheduled to blog in January … not a lot of fun when you live outside Boston and there’s not a farmers’ market scheduled for months. But I think I did okay.

I overheard my husband comment to my son about my cookbook collection. I believe the phrase “too many” was used. Sacrilege! There is no such thing as too many cookbooks.

This weekend I pawed through a few of them, and it’s sad to say but out of the (ahem) several hundred I have, I cook from 20 of them, tops. The rest just kind of sit there, gathering dust.

Most of them are wonderful books, don’t get me wrong. I bought them with the full intention of using them, but for one reason or another, didn’t get around to it. Or I cooked a thing or two and moved on.

I was thinking for the blog it might be a good idea to pick a book and cook a minimum of five recipes from it. If things don’t work out, then off to the library book sale it goes.

Right now, I’m leaning toward Debra’s Natural Gourmet Cookbook. Debra’s Natural Gourmet is actually a nearby market in West Concord, MA, that I frequent. It always smells so yummy in there, so of course when I saw they had I cookbook, I snapped it up. Unfortunately, I’ve never cooked from it, but that’s about to change. Flipping through it over the weekend I saw dozens of recipes that looked really good, as well as healthy. (I’m back on my triathlon training diet!)

Yesterday I bought 2 lbs. of Maine shrimp at Whole Foods Market. Maine shrimp are available from December through February. They’re small, but delicious — taste a lot like lobster. And y’all know how I feel about lobster.

I boiled one pound and peeled them for DH and The Oyster. The other pound went into my shrimp bisque, pictured at left. Very tasty! Sauteeing the shrimp shells with the aromatics made all the difference in flavoring the stock. I used only a touch of cream and a teaspoon or so of tomato paste — most of the color comes from the shrimp shells. Although it’s a fairly “light” recipe, one bowlful of this bisque was plenty enough for dinner; very filling! I had another bowl at lunchtime, and again, one bowl was enough.

The Boston Globe ran a story on my CSA in last week’s food section. Check it out!

Indeed, our CSA newsletter prints many recipes of Mike’s, and they’re all damn good.