Eating Dirt

Three Cheers for Kohlrabi!

Kohlrabi is something I remember vaguely from my childhood. My mother presented it to us in the kitchen, a strange alien form she found either at the grocery store or in her garden. It was not purple, but a pale greeny white, as though it might taste minty or sweet like a honeydew melon. She peeled it, cut it into cubes and then, announcing her love for the thing, served it to my brother and me with toothpicks. It was not minty, or sweet. Maybe a little bit refreshing with a strong whiff of broccoli, and all around objectionable to our young palates. We squealed in horror and ran out into the yard, never to touch kohlrabi again.

So imagine my surprise when a modern, giant version arrived in our CSA box. Not sure what to do, I consulted my cookbooks. Nigel Slater seems to have avoided this vegetable, Alice Waters didn't include it in her latest book, nothing in Mad Hungry or Canal House, and all Joy of Cooking had to recommend was kohlrabi with parmesan. Not terribly appetizing, but at least I'd learned it could be cooked. Eventually Stephanie Alexander emerged as the Queen of Kohlrabi. She is Australia's Kitchen Garden Master, with multiple pages of kohlrabi recipes in her book Kitchen Garden Companion, plus a paragraph on how to select a good one.

"It is best picked at about the size of a small apple," she says. Closer to the size of a football, ours served us well through three meals, after having its woody bits removed. We ate roasted root vegetables with lentils from Eat Good Food, Kashmiri-style slow cooked kohlrabi leaves and my favorite, Kohrabi and chickpea soup. The best part about kohlrabi? I told the kids it was potato, and they believed me. Maybe next time one arrives with the produce I'll get out some toothpicks and reveal my duplicity.

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Kohlrabi and Chickpea Stew (adapted from Stephanie Alexander's Kitchen Garden Companion):
(Click here for printable recipe cards.)

1 t cumin seeds (or ground, to speed things up)
1 t coriander seeds (or ground)
1/2 t chili flakes
1/2 t ground turmeric
2 T olive oil
1/2 lb kohlrabi, cut into 1/2" pieces
1 can or about 1 1/2 cups cooked chickpeas, drained
1/2 lb tomatoes (green ones work fine)
1 T tomato paste
4c water (or so, whatever looks right to you)
1 t salt (or more to taste)
1/2 small handful chopped coriander (aka cilantro) or flat leaf parsley

If you have five spare minutes, dry roast the cumin and coriander seeds in a small skillet until they are fragrant, watching carefully because they burn quickly. Then grind them with a clean coffee grinder or mortar and pestle. They are more flavorful this way than pre-ground, but you can use pre-ground spices if you are in a hurry. Either way, mix the chili and turmeric with the cumin and coriander.

Heat the olive oil in a medium pan until it shimmers, then fry the spice mixture for one minute. Add the kohlrabi and sauté for a couple minutes more, then add all remaining ingredients except the coriander or parsley leaves. Bring to a simmer, then continue to simmer for another 15 minutes, or until the kohlrabi is as tender as you like it. Taste and add salt if needed.

Ladle into bowls and garnish with parsley or coriander.
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Spicy Asian Slaw or What to do With Cabbage?

In the past couple of weeks we have eaten at least five cabbages. I was surprised this week, to find none in our CSA box and only one in the fridge, already slated to be sliced and dressed to go with a noodle soup that would use the last of a previously roasted chicken. Winter, or Spring in some places, is cabbage season. They are beautiful in the garden, gathering dew with dusty hues of plum, pale and bright green. And they are great in salads of all sorts, stir fried and steamed, but sometimes I'm just not sure what to do with them all.

So, as a last resort, I planned to make an asian slaw recipe I'd found in my collection of favorites. I don't recall ever making this before, but there it was. I had my doubts, mostly because as a general rule I don't love coleslaw. Its OK, especially when made with sesame oil and peanuts, but not something I'm interested in wasting too many calories on.  

"Make Cole Slaw!" my husband said, when I asked, dejectedly, what to do with the two cabbages we received last week. So I did. And it was shockingly good. Even my daughter ate it, which wasn't too surprising, since she tends to like raw vegetables, though not usually with sauce or dressing.  We ate it with an asian style noodle soup, also easy and delicious, so I'll add that recipe here as well.  

Enjoy!

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Spicy Asian Slaw (adapted from an old Eatwell Newsletter, I think):

Makes 4-6 servings.

For the dressing:

1/2 c mayonnaise

1 T toasted sesame oil

1 T mirin (or rice wine vinegar)

3-6 Tchili sauce (rooster sauce, or something like that)

1 T grated ginger

2 T fresh lime juice

1 t salt

1 T sesame seeds

Mix the ingredients together, then set them aside while you assemble the slaw.

For the slaw:

1 small green (preferably savoy or napa) cabbage - if you use a large one, double the sauce recipe

1 small turnip, grated

1 large carrot, grated

4 green onions or 1 small onion, thinly sliced or grated

1/4 cup chopped fresh mint leaves

1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro leaves

Core the cabbage, quarter and slice it very thinly. Transfer to a large bowl or salad spinner, fill with water and swish, then lift the cabbage out to drain, or spin it in the spinner. Add the cabbage, grated turnip, carrot, onion, mint and cilantro to a large bowl. Mix in the dressing, then let sit in the fridge, covered, for up to four days.

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Quick Asian Noodle Soup (adapted from Lucinda Scala Quinn's Mad Hungry):

Makes 4-6 servings.

4-6 c chicken broth

1 T minced or grated ginger (peel it first)

1 star anise

1 large shallot (or 2 small ones) halved and thinly sliced

1 jalapeno or serrano chili, sliced longways, seeded and sliced into rounds (add as many or few as you want)

3 small leeks or some scallions, thinly sliced

1 bunch spinach leaves, washed

1 t salt

pepper

3/4 lb soba noodles

1 T sesame oil

1 c or so leftover cooked chicken

Heat the chicken broth, adding the shallots and leeks, ginger, star anise and jalapenos as you slice them, then the salt. Let that simmer gently while you wash the spinach (set it aside when finished), chop the leftover chicken and cook the noodles separately according to their package directions. When the noodles are done, drain them and toss with the sesame oil, then put some in the bottom of each bowl. Add the chicken and then the spinach to the soup, give it a stir and turn off the heat. Taste for salt, grind some pepper on top, and ladle the soup into the bowls, over noodles.

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Mark Bittman's Chopped Salad

Last year, for my birthday, I received Mark Bittman’s How to Cook Everything. It is a big and impressive book, and because of its heft and lack of fancy photographs, I lumped it into the same go-to-first category as Irma Rombauer’s Joy of Cooking and Deborah Madison’s Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone. My friend Shelley does go to it for everything, but I have yet to be won over by its recipes. When my Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone was on hiatus, out on loan to a friend, and I had to make black eyed peas for thirty people on New Year’s Day, turning to Bittman’s book only made me nervous. 

His Black-Eyed Peas, Southern Style looked similar to Madison’s Southern Style Black-Eyed Peas. But they weren't quite right.  For one thing, her recipe is vegetarian and his is not. So I nixed Bittman’s ham hock and went on with the process. A ham hock offers salt, maybe a bit of porky flavor, but not all that much else...leaving me perplexed about what was missing. All I could come up with were a bay leaf, chipotle pepper and some allspice.  Which was close, but now that I have VCE back at home again, I see that it is not one but three bay leaves her recipe calls for, celery, thyme and, the real key, garlic. Also missing were the chipotle, allspice and green pepper, which should be left out because the flavor of cooked green pepper overwhelms everything under the sun.

But I do love Mark Bittman for his New York Times articles. His blog is great, not something I’m all that good at keeping up with, but his food section writings are the bomb. That is why I force my family to get dressed early and forgo breakfast most wednesday mornings, so we can walk over to the Irish market around the corner, pick up my paper, head to Arizmendi for pastry and a loaf of bread and then ride the muni to school. Two papers a day is just too much, so we only receive the Times on Sunday, when the kids can fight over the color funnies (luckily they are easy to separate into two pieces) while I attempt to read the important parts at high speed. As for the Chronicle, I pull out the Food and Home & Garden sections to read monday morning, when such slim pickings arrive on our doorstep that we rarely bother to bring them in. 

This year, Bittman stole the show with his first Sunday article Chop, Fry, Boil: Eating for One, or 6 Billion. Sensible, informative, insightful and inciting, he included three recipes that can be tweaked to prepare a year of seasonal dinners, trading in and out whichever ingredients are at their peak and choosing the recipes - stir fry, rice and beans or salad - according to your mood. So a few days after his article appeared, and a few days after we’d vowed to try to eat up every bit of produce that darkened our door this year, cabbage was on our mind. I like green cabbage - it is good stuffed with pork and baked, it makes a nice soup with potatoes and chicken stock, it sautes and takes soy sauce well and is excellent with chicken tacos. But we still never seem to eat it all. So a salad of raw cabbage to accompany lentils and rice, with a little bit of roast chicken sounded like just the thing. 

And it was - lemon juice is a magical liquid. Tossing your cabbage and other fresh salad items in a tablespoon of it, along with a little garlic and some olive oil can make most anything (especially lentils and rice) into a great meal.

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Cabbage Salad (adapted from Mark Bittman’s Chopped Salad):

1/2 small head green cabbage, cored and shredded or very thinly sliced

1 carrot, shredded

1/2 red or yellow bell pepper, diced

4 radishes, thinly sliced

1 handful parsley leaves, stems removed

2 Tablespoons fresh lemon juice (or red or white vinegar)

7 Tablespoons olive oil

1 garlic clove, minced or pressed

salt and pepper to taste

Put the cabbage, carrot, pepper, radishes and parsley in a big bowl. Then put the garlic and lemon juice into a separate lidded container. Let it sit for 5-10 minutes. Add the olive oil, salt and pepper. Snap down the lid, then pick it up and shake it to mix the dressing. Pour 1/2 the dressing over the salad, then toss it gently with tongs. Taste, and add more dressing if necessary. Serve immediately

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Kindergarten Carrots

Last night I spent ten minutes scrubbing and trimming thirty carrots, as part of a monthly snack contribution to my daughter's kindergarten class. I know nearly all kids love carrots, and I know they especially love those so called "baby" carrots, but I cannot stand those little nubs. I'm not terribly concerned about the health risk of the chlorinated water they are dipped into, but I do get peeved at their false claims, especially since they mislead people into thinking they are not a processed food, which they are. Minimally processed, sure, but it upsets the purist in me. Fakers.

The big secret behind baby carrots was made public back in 2004, by USA Today. Not really baby carrots at all, they were just a clever marketing ploy by a farmer with too many disfigured grown-up carrots to sell, so he ground them down into two inch chunks. Today carrot producers apparently use thinner, specially bred baby-esque carrots, but still those packaged babies aren't really babies at all.  They are larger carrots cut and shaved down for convenient toddler munching. My kids and I did actually find real baby carrots not too long ago, sold at our farmer's market by Serendipity Farm. They were tiny and tasty and, best of all, purple. Really a find. I packed them in lunches for three weeks and my kids actually ate them.

I know, most people don't really care, and the alleged babies make serving veggies to kids a whole lot easier, which is a good thing. So, I probably shouldn't lambast the prepackaged "baby" carrot. But that aside, I was interested to see how the fully grown carrots went over with my daughter's class. Carrots are one of her favorite snacks, especially if she pulls them out of the ground herself. To better emulate the fresh picked experience,I would have liked to serve the carrots with their greens on, but carrots get floppy when left with their tops overnight, and going shopping for them the morning of just wasn't convenient. I'm willing to bet there is some trick to keeping them crisp, maybe soaking them in a bucket of water like florists do flowers the night before a wedding, but I haven't tested it out, so their pretty green tops had to go.

To lessen the trauma of fresh vegetables, I delivered the carrots with three bags of organic crunchy corn doodles. I think the teachers prefer popcorn or crackers, but I couldn't resist. They're like Cheetos without the chee. My daughter was elated, and at the end of the day, she told me everyone at her table ate a carrot and that she had eaten three. Success! 

Tomato Tart and a Little Gem Salad

The week we left San Francisco for Tucson, this summer's volume of Canal House Cooking arrived with the mail. You may already know this, but Canal House is my new favorite thing. Besides Nigel Slater, of course. I love its irreverence toward normal day to day life - for those at the Canal House, everything revolves around food. I also love its quick vignettes: trout from a friend of a friend fishing outside the window, a whole essay on why their pal likes to get a buzz on and a few words about Patricia Curtan (illustrator of Chez Panisse Vegetables) and her apricot jam.

The photos are beautiful, in an edgy foodie sort of way. Similar to the style I was first smitten by in Saveur Magazine (the two women behind Canal House both spent time there, one as a founder), there is calculated imperfection, telling me that this food is the real deal and what's for dinner, not just props prettied up for a photo shoot. I love that. And in this latest issue, the "Gone Fishin'" title page is just so spectacular. Two fish laying on a print ad for a vacation spa, wrapped in a bloody bag. It sounds gross, but really, its perfect. I want to hang it up on my wall. I'm so glad Elizabeth David made it OK to write and talk about food as something much more meaningful than simple calories. Without her, I'd be branded a moron for wanting to frame my cookbook.

But before I forget - the recipes. They are, for the most part, quick and easy, always seasonal and always stylish (I'm willing to bet kippers will be the next big thing this summer). I've found that the key to this particular one is which puff pastry to use. Pepperidge Farm was really tough to unfold last week, but this time Dufour Kitchen's pastry did me right. So use that one, if you can. I bought it at Rainbow Grocery.

The best place to get your lettuces is Star Route Farms, check their website to see if they come to a farmer's market near you. 

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Tomato Tart (adapted from Canal House Cooking Volume 4):

1 sheet puff pastry, defrosted (follow the instructions on the box)

2-3 tomatoes, cored and sliced

2-3 branches fresh thyme

extra-virgin olive oil

salt and pepper

Line a cookie sheet with a piece of parchment paper and preheat the oven to 375°. Lay the puff pastry sheet on top of the parchment paper, and score the outline of the pastry, about 1/2 inch from the edge all the way around. Stab the middle section of the pastry with your knife tip many times, to prevent it from puffing up like the outer edge will. Lay the tomato slices on the pastry in a single layer, and sprinkle thyme leaves on top. Drizzle some olive oil, grate some pepper and sprinkle some salt on top. Bake until the edges of the pastry are browned, about 30-40 minutes.

Little Gem Salad:

Slice the bottom off each baby lettuce head, then cut them into chunks, roughly one inch by once inch. Wash and dry them in a salad spinner, then wrap them in a towel to finish drying. Let them sit while you mix up the dressing below, then put the lettuce in a big bowl, grate a carrot over them (if you have one around) and toss them with the dressing. Be careful not to use too much dressing, this makes enough for more than one medium sized salad.

For the dressing (adapted from Deborah Madison's Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone):

1/2 cup buttermilk

1/2 cup whole milk yogurt (or sour cream)

2 garlic cloves, minced or put through the press

1/4 cup finely chopped parsley

fresh lemon juice or white vinegar

1/4 teaspoon salt (or so)

For starters, pour the yogurt into a sieve (thats a fine mesh strainer) over a bowl to drain some of the water and thicken up the yogurt. After a while, combine it with the buttermilk in a bowl Whisk in the garlic and salt, then add the parsley and lemon juice. Stir it up and taste, adding salt if it needs more.

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Birthday Crab Rolls

My daughter turned five years old yesterday, and what a celebration it was. She had presents from her Grandparents in the morning , singing and candle blowing with a fake cake at school in the afternoon, then dinner with real cake and more presents in the evening. Tomorrow she has another birthday bash (to which we seem to have invited over seventy guests) and still more presents arriving in the mail from her other Grandmother.

She takes it all in good stride, though, with this year being the first in which she understood the concept of time well enough to actually count down the days to her birthday, and tell me "I'm really going to be five tomorrow!" the day before. This year's cake came from Miette, of course, and tomorrow's big party cake is coming from (urp) Safeway (did you know they have a blog too?). There is only so much I can do when my daughter demands that a princess be painted on the top.

In addition to being overpowered in my choice of cake, I had no say in the dinner menu either. My three year old son has been begging me to bring home a whole (preferably live) fish ever since we visited our local massive Asian market, Sunset Super, and wouldn't let me leave Whole Foods yesterday without buying a crab. Luckily, I managed to get away with an already dead one, recently cooked, cleaned and cracked. Phew.

Together we pulled its meat from the shell at home. When he tired of that, my son coated the kitchen floor with dirt and then hurled pot shards three stories down from our deck, while I boiled up some noodles, grated carrots, picked mint leaves and rolled it all up in rice paper. Or whatever you call that impossibly thin edible wrapping material. My little crab packages didn't come out quite as nicely as the ones served at Dragonfly Restaurant around the corner, but with a little practice I'm sure my skills will improve.

Of course neither of my children at the crab rolls - that was left to my husband and me. Instead they dined on cream cheese sandwiches, carrots and plums. And for dessert, cake.

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Crab Rolls (adapted from Jay Harlow's West Coast Seafood):

4 oz rice sticks (aka rice noodles)

24 small rice paper rounds (I used full ones, and only about 12 or so)

1 smallish crab, cooked, chilled and picked (about 1/3-1/2 pound meat)

1/4 cup shredded green onion or garlic chives

1/3 cup mint and/or cilantro leaves

1 medium cucumber, peeled, seeded and sliced into thin strips 2-3 inches long

1/2 cup shredded carrot

Nuoc Cham sauce for dipping (see recipe below)

Cook the rice sticks in boiling water until soft, then drain them in a colander in the sink and rinse with cold water. Cut into 1 inch long lengths. 

The easiest way I've found to rehydrate the rice paper (it is sold dry) is to layer them between damp kitchen towels. Let them sit this way for 5-10 minutes, then flip the stack over so that you start with the rice paper layered first. They are very delicate, and once they have stuck together, nearly impossible to unstick, so be careful. They can stay layered in dishtowels for an hour or more.

For each roll, lay out a sheet of softened rice paper and put a Tablespoon or so of rice sticks in the middle. Add a piece of cucumber, some carrots, chives, mint and crab, then fold the two opposite sides and roll it up into a neat little bundle. If the rice paper tears, you can always take another sheet and double wrap the roll to hold everything together.

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Nuoc Cham (Vietnamese Dipping Sauce):

1 clove garlic

1 small red or green chile

2 Tablespoons fish sauce

1 teaspoon rice vinegar or lime juice

1 teaspoon sugar

2 Tablespoons hot water, or to taste

Finely mince the garlic and chile, or pound them together in a mortar. In a small bowl, combine the chile-garlic mixture with the fish sauce, lime juice (or vinegar), sugar and hot water.Stir it up, then taste to see if it needs further thinning with water. Its pretty strong stuff, so taste with caution. Set it out in a bowl for dipping the rolls into.

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Sesame Ginger Tofu with Greens

This is another old favorite from Deborah Madison that my husband and I have been making for years. We've tried many variations of the sauce, and often I'll make it without marinating the tofu ahead of time, simply because I don't get around to mixing it up before I need to cook dinner. Even then it is delicious. Often it serves as an end of the week produce clean up, just about any vegetable can go in, clearing out the fridge for our incoming Eatwell box. I've made it with pretty much every sort of green we've had - stir fry mix, spinach, chard, kale, mustard (one of my favorites, with a simplified marinade). It is good with turnips, broccoli, cauliflower, always snap peas if we have them and sometimes carrots, though I can usually find a better use for those.

Today it was a few snaggly stir fry greens I found hiding in the crisper, a bunch of chard, a bunch of spinach and one gigantic bokchoi. It never ceases to amaze me how much the greens shrink down when cooked - all that plus a brick of tofu and two cups of rice made dinner for four. Really more like two, since the kids only ate rice and a few pieces of tofu each.

The secret to this one is getting the tofu to carmelize a bit, then it is really good. Its sweet and gingery, with a touch of salty soy sauce to round things out. I can't figure out why our kids won't eat it, but I suspect they just have something against umami. Maybe that alleged fifth taste is really something one needs to grow into.

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Sesame Ginger Tofu with Greens (adapted from Deborah Madison's Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone): 

Greens - at least one, maybe two bunches, plus any other veggies you might like stir-fried. Carrots, turnips, snap peas, broccoli are all good.

firm tofu - 1 big block 

2 cups jasmine rice (or more if you'd like)

2 Tablespoons peanut or canola oil

3 large garlic cloves (or one small head green garlic), minced or put through a press

3 teaspoons finely chopped ginger

1/4 teaspoons red pepper flakes

2 Tablespoons dark sesame oil

4 Tablespoons sesame oil

8 teaspoons brown sugar

6 Tablespoons soy sauce

Early in the day, make the marinade by mixing together the garlic, ginger, red pepper flakes, dark and regular sesame oils, brown sugar and soy sauce. Stir until all the sugar is mixed in, then cut the tofu into slices, put it in a bowl and pour the marinade over the top. Put it in the fridge until you are ready to cook dinner, and if you get a chance, rotate the tofu around once or twice during the day. If you can't manage to marinate the tofu ahead of time, just toss it in the sauce quickly before cooking.

Begin the cooking process by starting up your rice cooker. If you don't have one, just cook the rice however you like to do it.

Preheat the oven to 200°, so that you can keep the tofu warm while you cook the veggies.

Wash and spin dry the greens and any other vegetables you are using. 

Heat the peanut oil in the bottom of a wok over medium high heat. I have a cast iron one that I really love - it holds the heat nicely and is huge enough to fit two bunches of greens and various other things. It also comes with a lid that is handy for steaming and works well on my stove, which I'm told traditional woks don't always do. When the oil is hot (you can tell by tossing in a piece of garlic or onion and waiting for it to begin to sizzle), add the tofu to the wok piece by piece, letting the marinade drain back into the bowl. Reserve the marinade. Spread the tofu one piece deep, let it cook for a few minutes until you can flip a piece over and see that it has turned golden brown, then flip the tofu to another side and repeat the process. You can do this again, for a third browning, if you want.

When the tofu is browned to your liking, remove it from the pan onto a plate and put it in the oven to keep warm.  Toss in any vegetables you have that need to cook longer than the greens (broccoli, carrots, turnips, but not snap peas), stir them around with a spatula or wooden spoon. When they are close to done (broccoli will be bright green, anything else you can taste for doneness) add the greens and stir them around too. Cover the wok for just a minute or so if you want your greens more tender. When the greens are done to your liking, scoop them out of wok onto a plate or bowl and into the oven. 

Now turn the heat off and pour the reserved marinade into the wok. Give it a quick stir and let it sit there while you dump the tofu onto the greens plate and serve the rice. Pour the rest of the marinade on top of the greens and tofu, and serve right away

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Polenta and Blood Orange Sorbet

Polenta is a rather intensive affair, when cooked at home from dry crunchy grit. The traditional recipe calls for near continuous stirring, for half an hour to fourty-five minutes. Deborah Madison offers a more modern walk-away version, but it needs to sit in a double boiler for an hour and a half, after two separate pots of water are brought to a boil, one at a time, on top of each other, all before the grit even comes into play. At my house, a cooking time that long and with that many steps could only be accomplished with very well orchestrated planning, which is not my forte.

So I chose the stir a lot method. I figured I'd be standing right by the stove, prepping veggies for the accompanying ragu, so it wouldn't be a big deal. And it wasn't. Except that I failed to notice what else was going on in the kitchen, most notably the scissors in my daughter's hand and the hair on the floor.  

Luckily it wasn't mine. I am too old for a mullet. But on a rather perky soon to be five year old, the look can be somewhat fetching. Jon Bon Jovi did always have a sort of preschooler-esque discipline about him, and when I found her in the living room, sitting on the sofa with the orange sky gathering through the window behind her, I could see the resemblance. 

Perhaps devoting all my attention to cooking dinner under the guise of taking care of my family is a bit misguided, but the polenta was pretty good. Excellent in fact. The ragu was passable. And the blood orange sorbet? Fabulous.

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Traditional Polenta (adapted from Deborah Madison's Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone):

If you're making this with the ragu, you'll want to start the pancetta step of the ragu before the polenta.

2 cups course cornmeal

1 1/2 teaspoons salt or to taste

2 to 6 Tablespoons butter

Bring six cups of water to a boil in a large, heavy saucepan. Add the salt and then the cornmeal in a steady stream, stirring constantly with a whisk to avoid lumps and having the meal seize up within the first few minutes. Lower the heat and cook, stirring more or less constantly for 30 to 45 minutes. If the polenta seizes up into a hard mass, add small increments of boiling water while it cooks, to smooth it out. When done, taste for salt and then stir in butter. Serve immediately or keep it warm over boiling water (in a double boiler) until ready to serve.

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Provencal Vegetable Ragout (adapted from Cooking Fresh from the Bay Area):

1/2 pound pancetta, cut into one inch pieces

1 leek, sliced thinly into rings

1-3 sprigs thyme

1 cup chicken stock

1 quart water

8 to 10 baby carrots, scrubbed (sliced into baby sized pieces if you use larger carrots)

3 spring onions, sliced (spring onions are pretty small, about the size of a leek)

1/2 cup chanterelles or other forest mushroom (rehydrated dry ones work fine)

2 cups freshly hulled peas or shelled and peeled fava beans I'm sure frozen would be OK)

1 bunch asparagus, rinsed and trimmed

2 Tablespoons butter

Heat a small saucepan over medium heat. Add the pancetta and brown, for about 5 minutes. Add the leek and thyme and cook until the leek starts to soften. Add the chicken stock and water. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat to low and simmer uncovered for an hour or so.

When the pancetta is tender and there is about one cup of liquid remaining (after about an hour), remove the thyme and transfer the mixture to a saucepan large enough to hold all the vegetables. 

Bring the heat up to medium, add the carrots, onions and mushrooms to the pancetta-leek mixture. Cover and cook for about four minutes (longer if you used older carrots). Add the peas, cover again and cook for two minutes. Add the asparagus and butter and cook for four more minutes, or until the asparagus and carrots are tender. Be careful not to let the liquid evaporate completely, you may need to add a little bit of water. When the ragout is finished, there should be only a small amount of liquid coating the vegetables.

Taste and salt, if necessary. Serve over polenta.

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Blood Orange Sorbet (adapted from Chez Panisse Cooking):

This is one of my favorite recipes. Ever. I've been making it yearly since my husband and I were given a fancy juicer by one of our wedding guests. Maybe since even before that, using a hand juicer, after my parents gave us an ice cream maker. Its a little late in the season this year for blood oranges, but if you, like me, buy them and then spend weeks agonizing over the right time to make sorbet, they will keep fine in a plastic bag in the fridge. 

12 to 16 blood oranges, to yield 1 quart juice

grated peel of two of the oranges

1 cup sugar

Grate the peel of two of the oranges and set it aside. Juice the oranges and strain through a fine-mesh sieve (this is a great job for little kids, have them rub a spatula along the bottom of the sieve to help the juice drain through). Place the juice in a pan or bowl and add the sugar and the peel. Stir the mixture until the sugar is entirely dissolved (another good preschooler job). Chill the mixture in the refrigerator, then freeze in an ice cream maker. Serve the day it is made.

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Joy of a Roast Chicken

Today was a near perfect spring day - fitting, since May Day was this past Saturday. We had no plans this morning, which allowed me to tidy the kitchen to near acceptable standards of cleanliness, something it hasn't achieved since early two thousand six. There was only one timeout for the kids while I swept and rinsed and scrubbed and sorted, they were largely good on their own, playing "camping" in the sunny living room by redesigning the sofa into a tent complete with special secret agent devices.

I opened the kitchen doors to the back deck and pulled the mildew smitten snap pea plants from their pots, harvesting their final bounty and readying the soil for something more hardy - perhaps mildew resistant snap peas? The kids and I went down to the garden and marveled at our one half red strawberry - if the weather gets warmer, it might be ready to eat this week. I only hope the slugs don't find it first.

We watered the garden and planted some thyme. We counted slugs and refilled the beer traps (many, but nothing to rival the ninety-seven dead slugs we counted last thursday). I noted the lack of carrots we have growing in all three carrot beds we've planted. The kids made mud pies. I wondered about the brown spots continuing to appear on potato leaves throughout the garden. The kids sprayed themselves with the hose. I puzzled over whether our largest strawberry plant has fruit flies or something more sinister. The kids took their clothes off and peed in the grass. We gathered up our dirty laundry and went back inside for bean and cheese burritos.

After preschool, my daughter's ballet class was cancelled. So we went home and I unwrapped the still frozen chicken that had been sitting on the counter since last night. Into the oven it went and again I threw open the doors to the yard and out we went. 

We added some rocks to the strawberry garden terraces and started collecting stakes for pea tepees. The kids sprayed themselves with the hose. I realized how snappy the blue and yellow violas look in the back beds - they've finally grown too tall for whatever flower munching insect has been eating them up. I went back inside to put some potatoes and carrots in to roast with the chicken and poured myself a glass of prosecco. The kids made mud cakes. 

Back in the garden, I stood in the warm sun assembling stakes for the pea plants while our ancient apple tree's branches rustled above me.  "Mommy, when will the apples be ready?" my daughter asked as she tried to sneak our sharpest scissors out of my pocket. "Me cut!" said my son, waving twenty-five feet of unrolled twine he had knotted into a roundish lump. This is it, I realized. This is what I love so much - the light in my eyes and the wind in my hair and the plants and my children all gathered around. 

"I'm cold" said my daughter, going into the house. "Me too" said my son, going into the house. And they left me there, to finish building pea teepees, as the sun settled down toward the ocean. 

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Roast Chicken with Potatoes and Carrots (adapted from The Joy of Cooking):

1 whole chicken, thawed and brought to room temperature (if possible)

1 to 2 pounds of small waxy potatoes, scrubbed and cut in half (fingerlings, yellow fin, yukon gold or something like that)

1/2 to 1 pound of carrots, scrubbed and cut in half lengthwise and crosswise

salt

olive oil

Preheat the oven to 400˚. Rinse and pat dry the chicken, making sure to remove the giblits if any have been stuffed inside the bird. Sprinkle the chicken generously with salt and rub it into the skin a bit. Sprinkle more salt inside the cavity. Put the chicken in a roasting pan, breast side up (or down if you'd prefer the breast meat not dry out and can handle the breast skin not getting crunchy and delicious). Put it in the oven and set a timer for 25 minutes.

A few minutes before the timer rings, put the carrots and potatoes in a really big bowl, then pour a couple tablespoons of olive oil and a half to one teaspoon of salt on top. Toss them together using tongs until all the veggies are coated with oil and salt. Put them on a cookie sheet and put them into the oven with the chicken when the timer goes off.  Set the timer for 20 more minutes. 

When the timer goes off, check the chicken for doneness - it should be nice and brown and crispy. You can take its temperature in the thickest part of the thigh, if you'd like. Your meat thermometer will tell you what temperature the chicken should be. You can also check for doneness by pulling the chicken partway out of the oven and using a knife to cut into the skin between the thigh and body. The juices that come out should be clear. If they are pink, it isn't done. If it isn't done, put it back in the oven for ten minutes, then repeat the check for doneness. Keep an eye on the veggies, and when they have a golden crust on them and are soft, take them out. If the chicken is just about ready you can always turn off the oven and let it finish as the oven cools off. This often allows me to pick up someone from school, throw some laundry in, or prevent howls of distress by letting the Thomas episode finish.

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Salad:

1 large or 2 small heads crisp green lettuce (romaine, little gem, whatever)

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

1 tablespoon champagne vinegar

1 tablespoon dijon mustard

salt & pepper

In a small jar with a lid, combine the olive oil, vinegar and mustard. Put the lid on and shake it up, then add salt and pepper to taste. 

Remove any imperfect outer leaves from the lettuce, then cut it into horizontal slices and then vertical slices, like a checkerboard, so that the lettuce pieces are about 1x1'. Wash and dry them. 

Put the lettuce in a really big bowl and pour 2/3 of the dressing on top, then toss it with tongs. Taste, and add more if needed. Serve immediately and grate more pepper on top once it is on your plate.

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Stewy Roasted Root Vegetables with Lentils

Get your chard on!

Today was a second great day for my garden - I've eaten two salads from it. For lunch, I had some mixed lettuces with a hard boiled egg and vinaigrette along with an open faced mozzarella and avocado sandwich.  The kids ate peanut butter and honey roll-ups, on wheat tortillas. They sampled the salad while harvesting but weren't interested once it entered the house.

Now, for dinner, we're having my favorite arugula salad of all, along with the very last butternut squash in our kitchen. (Well, actually there is one more, but its humungous and moldy at the top and must be composted.)  Its officially spring, so I think that means we'll be done with the squash. (Except for an acorn squash still hanging around on the counter).  Hurray!  I'm always looking for new winter squash recipes, if you happen to have a good one.

The Stewy Roasted Root Veggies is adapted from Canal House Cooking volume 3, which is my goto cookbook for this week.  I'm celebrating its arrival, but promise to move on to other sources in a few days. Usually I'm not fond of cooking with wine, but thought I'd give it a try in order to rid the kitchen of any remaining winter veg.  In fact, I paired it up with the arugula to bring in a little spring- but really the two do well together.  

Speaking of the arugula, I planted it from seed on February 5, in one of our raised beds underneath the big cold frame I bought this year, in advisement from Nigel Slater.  What a great idea - I just grew salad in six weeks. In February. With no irrigation. And there's still more - today I just thinned the plants a little bit.

Today the kids and I planted two beds of carrots - in with some onions (to keep pests away), one in the sun and one in shade that will be sunny by the time summer rolls around.  I'm told that you should start carrots in cold soil and finish them in heat, so I'll see how that goes.  We also started weeding and sweeping the patio - its all very exciting.  And I'm trying to figure out how to trellis the kiwis - they've started leafing out, so I guess I'd better get on that one.  

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Stewy Roasted Root Vegetables (adapted from Canal House Cooking volume 3):

4 Tablespoons olive oil

1 large yellow onion, sliced

2 cloves garlic, sliced

4 large shallots, peeled

1 small butternut squash, peeled and cut into pieces

4 carrots, peeled and cut into pieces

4 parsnips, peeled and cut into pieces

2 cups white wine

3 bay leaves

Preheat the oven to 350°.  Heat half the olive oil with the onions, garlic and shallots in a large ovenproof pot over medium heat.  Season with salt and pepper.  Cook until soft and lightly browned, about 15 minutes. Scrub and cut up the other vegetables while the onions cook.  For the squash - I recommend using half of a large one if you can't find a really small one.  To make prepping the butternut easy, cut it in half where the neck starts to round out into the bottom, so that you have one round piece and one long thin one.  slice off the top with the stem horizontally, and the bottom too.  Then peel each half with a vegetable peeler.  

Arrange the carrots, parsnips and squash in the pot with the onions, garlic and shallots, and stir them up. Season with salt and pepper, then pour in the wine and add the bay leaves.  Add the rest of the olive oil and roast, uncovered, until the vegetables are tender, around an hour or so.

While the veggies are cooking you should make the lentils.

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French Lentils:

1 cup french lentils

salt 

balsamic vinegar

Put one cup french lentils into a medium pot, cover by about an inch with water.  Bring the lentils to a boil, then cover partially and turn the heat down to simmer.  Check the lentils in about twenty minutes.  Add more water if the pot is getting dry.  The lentils will be done when they are soft, but not falling apart.  When they seem just about done, add a teaspoon of salt and let them simmer for five more minutes. Finish by mixing in a splash of balsamic vinegar and salt to taste.

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Arugula Salad:

1 bunch arugula

1/2 lemon

2 Tablespoons olive oil (or so)

3 Tablespoons pine nuts

a bit of parmesan cheese, shaved

salt and pepper

Wash the arugula and cut off all the long stems with no leaves.  Spin it dry and put it in a salad bowl.  In a small skillet, toast the pine nuts on medium heat.  They will burn very quickly, so you should devote all your attention to the skillet while they toast.  When they are brown and smell good, remove them from the heat and into a bowl. Right before you serve the salad, squeeze the lemon and toss it with the greens.  pour the olive oil into the bowl, salt and pepper and toss. Sprinkle the pine nuts and cheese over the top of the salad.

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