Last month Carolyn joined me on the first episode of Thinking Green, (Metrocast cable access channel 25) of the season to talk about the 'flavor of fall', and share her Pumpkin Smoothie recipe. You can watch the show here on Fiddleheads' YouTube channel.
I've doubled the cinnamon called for in Carolyn's original recipe, as the smoothie we made for the show was tasty but slightly bland. Coriander powder or allspice might be nice additions. You could also add frozen bananas, protein powder, or vary the spices. Steamed and pureed sweet potatoes could be subbed for the pumpkin. Printable pdf version of this recipe can be found here or in our archive. CAROLYN WILSON'S EASY PUMPKIN SMOOTHIE 1 15-oz can organic pureed pumpkin (or equal amount steamed or roasted fresh pumpkin, butternut or similar hard winter squash) 2 c plain or vanilla yogurt 1-2 c almond milk, or other "milk" (dairy, flax etc) of choice 1 tsp almond extract (optional) 2 Tbsp (or to taste) honey, maple syrup or agave syrup 2 Tbsp cinnamon, or pumpkin pie spice mix 1/2 c chai tea concentrate (optional) Blend all ingredients in a blender until smooth. Adjust seasonings to taste. I told you it was easy. Optional add-ins/substitutes: Substitute prepared coffee for the chai tea and/or unsweetened cocoa powder. Add a touch of rum if you're in the "holiday spirit", and hand car keys over to the designated driver before serving.
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Sheila Herbert sent me a request to repost the brussels sprouts recipes I put up on the blog last year, and I'm happy to oblige. Both variations are below, the simpler, more savory version with cumin first, then the "candied" sprouts with maple-mustard glaze. (Both recipes can also be found in printable pdf format at our Recipe Archive.) Enjoy, and happy holidays! 1 lb (approx.) fresh organic brussels sprouts, stem ends pared and halved or quartered, smallest ones left whole) 4 T olive oil sea salt and black pepper (pref. freshly cracked) to taste generous sprinkling of cumin to taste (did I measure how much? Of course not.) Preheat oven to 425 degrees (F); lightly oil a baking tray. Trim and half or quarter, depending on size, the brussels sprouts; leave smallest ones whole. Toss in a bowl with olive oil to coat, then sprinkle with the salt pepper and cayenne. If any leaves came off the sprouts during the trimming process, add them to the bowl. Spread sprouts on tray, place on rack in center of over and bake for 15-25 minutes or until fork-tender and slightly crisp on the outer leaves; use your own personal preference of what crispy/tender balance you prefer to guide you. (These can cook in the oven a bit longer than their glazed cousins because there is no sugar on the surface.) Serves four as a side dish. This dish is best served hot, right out of the oven, as the sprouts loose their crispness as they cool. Note: Instead of ground cumin, try dry-roasting whole cumin seeds in a hot skillet until they begin to "pop", let cool slightly then add to the sprouts, oil and other spices at the beginning. Oven-Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Maple-Mustard-Cayenne Glaze 1 lb (approx.) fresh organic brussels sprouts, stem ends pared and halved or quartered, smallest ones left whole) 4 T olive oil sea salt and black pepper (pref. freshly cracked) to taste 1/4 tea or generous dash of cayenne pepper, or to taste (optional) 1/4 Grade B maple syrup organic stoneground mustard (coarsely-ground) to taste (about 1 T) 1 T extra-virgin olive oil juice of 1/4 freshly squeezed lemon 1/4 medium-sized yellow or white onion, chopped Preheat oven to 425 degrees (F); lightly oil a baking tray. Trim and half or quarter, depending on size, the brussels sprouts; leave smallest ones whole. Toss in a bowl with olive oil to coat, then sprinkle with the salt pepper and cayenne. If any leaves came off the sprouts during the trimming process, add them to the bowl. Spread sprouts on tray, place on rack in center of over and bake for 10-15 minutes or until fork-tender and slightly crisp on the outer leaves; turn 2-3 times during cooking process to bake evenly. (Any loose leaves tend to cook quickest and become tasty little miniature chips.) In the meantime combine remaining ingredients for the glaze, emulsify until thoroughly blended and opaque. When sprouts are tender, remove from oven and turn temperature down to 375 degrees. Pour enough glaze over the sprouts to coat thoroughly when tossed on tray, but do not "drown" them; store any remaining glaze in the fridge for future use. Return to the oven and bake for an additional 5 minutes. Serves four. Note: Replace cayenne with fresh hot red pepper, finely chopped, or dried pepper flakes if desired. Last Saturday at Fiddleheads, the day before Christmas, was a festive day - genuinely festive, not the fake-festive we've become depressingly accustomed to this time of year. After the expected opening rush, business was steady but not overwhelming. Lacy and Monica both brought homemade cookies for staff to enjoy, and I put out jars of homemade jelly; the raspberry-ginger-lime variation was snapped up quickly. (I have no idea why it took me so long to realize that sharing the jelly with friends at the co-op is the perfect answer to the dilemma: "What am I supposed to do with all of this stuff? I hardly even eat bread anymore!") At closing time there was eggnog and more treats, plus several volunteers on hand to make the usual tasks more enjoyable - and get everyone the heck home in a reasonable amount of time. (FYI: I had to leave about then and didn't imbibe, so I have no idea if the eggnog was "spiked" or not.)
Ellen Anthony, the co-op's Bulk Dept manager (a.k.a. "Dr Bulk", a.k.a. "Goddess of Bulk") presented me with a substantial bundle that filled my hand, wrapped in wax paper. "It looks like a muffin but it's fruitcake," she said, as if that was all the explanation needed. Then she smiled her cheshire-cat smile and turned away without another word, like the Cheshire Cat himself. I looked down at the gift in my hand and thought "But, it does look like a muffin. How can it be fruitcake? Maybe she's teasing me." In her usual way, and not for the first time, the Goddess had turned the most mundane thing into a source of fabulous mystery. I waited until the next day to fully investigate that mystery: The muffin-fruitcake was very dense, a bit dry, pale yellow in color, not soaked in rum or sugar syrup. There were no pecans, no glace cherries, no citron; nothing in a frightening or unnatural shade of red or green. There were sunflower seeds, sunflower seeds, and chopped, dried fruits such as papaya and pineapple and cranberries - perhaps blueberries, as well? Treasures all found in the Bulk department, of course. And just enough batter to hold all those goodies together. Ellen wrote: "I got the recipe from Laurie's friend Roland in 1999, and adapted to suit." Ellen Anthony's Fruitcake with Dried Fruit, Almonds and Pumpkin Seeds Preheat oven to 275 degrees. Cream these in this order as usual: 1 lb room-temp. butter 2 c. sugar 6 egg yolks 1 T. warm water 1/4 c. Grand Marnier or cream or milk Sift together: 3 c. all-purpose flour 2 c. sugar 1 t. salt 1 t. baking soda Mix dry stuff into wet, then fold in: 6 egg whites, beaten stiff Mix into the batter with strong, clean hands: 1 lb. mixed cut up dried fruits (papaya, pineapple, blueberries, cranberries, currants, etc.) 1/2 lb. pumpkin seeds (See Note) 1/2 lb. slivered almonds Spoon into a buttered baking pan: tube pan, jumbo muffin tins, whatever. Smooth the top with wet hands or a spoon.The bigger the pan, the longer it will take to bake. Muffin size might be 1/2 hour or so; big tube pan an hour and a half. Cool completely and then store in an airtight container. It's pretty dry, so within a few days recipe. Or soak with liquor and store in a tin. Bon Apetit! Note (1/2/2012): Ellen wrote me back after the original post that the recipe should read "pumpkin seeds" not sunflower; the correction has been made. She also added, however that if she were to put in "sunnies" she would probably toast them first. Joan Weigle, who staffs the Fiddleheads Membership Info Desk every Saturday, loves Lior Lev Secarz's Spicy Cranberry Chutney with Apricots and Pecans . This recipe blends fresh cranberries, heated in cider and pomegranate juice, dried apricots and toasted pecans, then seasoned with ginger, cinnamon, clove, fennel, orange zest, etc. to subtle and complex effects that Joan appreciates. She said that it won the day for her in a competition with her daughter to determine who made the better chutney.
Cost of fresh cranberries at Fiddleheads: $3.00/lb Hearing your child admit for once that Mom/Dad is right: PRICELESS ************************ In the last two years I have inexplicably gone from "I can't stand spicy food" to "You call that spicy?" So if you're going to label your recipe "spicy", you'd better bring it. For a time I fancied it was a result of growing sophistication on my part, until a friend pointed out to me, "Don't you know that you lose taste buds as you age?" (Yes, but I forgotten - because I didn't yet conceptualize myself as "aging". But now I do. Thanks. And I'd been so happy in my little world of fragile illusions "Look, a unicorn...!") When I made the first batch of this for myself, I had to make some small adjustments due to availability and budget. I used watered-down black current juice from the co-op, which I already had at home, in place of the apple cider and pomegranate juice called for in the original. Black current juice is fairly strongly-flavored; nonetheless he result was, for my palate, surprisingly bland. I couldn't even taste the pecans, except to as a bit of crunchy texture. Tasty, but hardly worth the trouble and expense over my regular cranberry sauce recipe. (Now if someone would like to make a batch and show me how to "do it right"? Meet me at Fiddleheads and I will be glad, unlike Joan's daughter, to be proven wrong.) So for my version I've I doubled the spices, added a splash of unfiltered apple cider vinegar, and a dash of cayenne in addition to the original's versions spices. Pecans are replaced by the more strongly-flavored and economical walnuts and raisins are thrown in the mix. Finally a touch of maple syrup balances the acidic flavors. You'll want to let it "rest" for 48 hours in the fridge to allow the flavors to mellow and really come together: tangy but not sharp, slightly sweet without being sugary. It's only when each bite slides off your tongue at the last do the spices "announce" themselves. Spicier Cranberry Chutney (adapted from Lev Lior Sacarz's original) 1/2 medium or 1 small red onion, chopped fine olive oil for skillet 1 tea. ground cinnamon 1 whole anise star, or 1/2 tea. either ground fennel or anise 1/2 - 1 tea. ground cardamon 1/4 tea. ground allspice 1/4 - 1/3 freshly grated ginger 1/4 tea. ground cayenne 1/2 cup black current juice 1/2 cup water juice and pulp of two large oranges 12 ounces fresh or frozen (thawed) cranberries black pepper to taste 1/4 - 1/3 cup raisins 1/3 cup dried cranberries 1/2 dried apricots, chopped into small dice (to prevent knife from sticking, coat with a very small amount of oil or other oil) 1/3 cup walnuts, toasted/dry-roasted, then coarsely chopped or broken 2 tea. finely grated fresh orange zest, or the same amount of dried orange peel in small pieces, soaked in tepid water until softened 2 T apple cider vinegar 7-10 tea. maple syrup or amber (neutral) agave syrup, or to taste wheatberries, cooked (optional, see note below) In a heated skilled with slightly amount of olive oil, saute the chopped onion on low heat until tender and translucent, stirring frequently to prevent sticking; do not allow to brown. Combine spices, except pepper, with the current juice and water into a large saucepan; add the orange juice and pulp to the pan. If using dried orange zest rather than fresh, and it and the soaking water to the pan now. Bring just to boil, then add the fresh cranberries; allow to return to the boil, stirring frequently to prevent scorching, until cranberries begin to pop, about 5-7 minutes. Add a few rounds of cracked black pepper to taste. Remove from heat and allow to cool slightly. If you used whole anise stars, fish them out now before going on to the next step (unless pawing through a bowl of chunky burgundy chutney looking for chunks of barely-darker anise stars is your idea of a good time.) In a bowl combine the dried fruits and the walnuts; if using fresh zest rather than dried, add it now. Add the cooked cranberry mixture to the bowl, and the apple cider vinegar. Add the sauteed chopped onion. Combine everything thoroughly, making sure fruits, nuts and onion are well-coated. Add the sweetener to taste, in increments, until satisfied, and adjust all seasonings to your liking. The taste at this point will probably be somewhat sharp. Put into the refrigerator in a covered container, and allow to "rest" for at least 48 hours if possible; by then the flavors will have sufficiently "mellowed" and come together nicely. Note: Cooked wheatberries stirred in any time after combining all other ingredients, even days later, add a chewy texture element. They also lend a heft that makes the chutney more substantive and filling; makes a nice breakfast or anytime treat. It also solves the vexing question, "I got this because I'm trying to add whole grains to my diet but now what the heck do I DO with them?" On Monday my friend Miss Bliss and I toddled over to Milford for a bit of shopping (somebody got her Xmas present early), and then stopped at Edge of the Woods Natural Marketplace ** on the west side of New Haven for more shopping and lunch. EOTW is that rarest of creatures, an independent, family-owned, urban grocery store that started life as a co-op in 1977. (We'll sidestep the politics of that for the moment, shall we?)
When I've mentioned EOTW to friends and acquaintances in our edge of the woods this week, none of them had heard of it, or they vaguely thought it a restaurant of some sort. I suppose I can understand why, as it's not in the trendy downtown area near Yale and the New Haven Green, the British Museum or either of the train stations. You have travel west on Whalley Avenue towards West Haven and Edgeville, in an area with a working-class and ethnic feel that is decidedly not "chic" in any way. It's a bit funky inside in the best sense of the word; think the original Wild Oats before it lost it lost it's charm. Their cafeteria/ready-to-eat area includes hotbar, salad bar, bakery and deli and made-to-order sandwich counter, all tucked off to the side of the store so as not to interfere with the shopping aisles. Beyond the cash register is a cozy little eating area that resembles a greenhouse. All of their offerings fall somewhere on the veganarian scale, including the made-to-order wraps. Everything is economically and sensibly priced, even for budget-conscious folks like Miss Bliss and myself. The old-fashioned bakery case is overstuffed with whole grain breads, a variety of muffins, cookies and cupcakes, all baked on premises. (I just stopped myself from buying a tiramisu cupcake or a fudge brownie, and instead chose a large double-chocolate cookie and an apple cinnamon muffin. Both items were labeled as vegan, gluten-free, and soy-free; Miss Bliss is on a strict diet at the moment and I didn't want her to feel deprived of something sweet.) What a lunch it was! While my friend enjoyed a heap of roasted and well-seasoned mixed veggies (eggplant, mushrooms, squash and the like) with salad on the side, I was less disciplined. Root veggie pancakes, crisply browned on the outside and tender within, were dolloped with mixed-fruit sauce of stewed dried fruits such as apricots and blueberries - not your grandmama's latkes and applesauce. Then I helped myself to a portion of leek and butternut lasagna, blanketed with sweet, melting cheese. Baby spinach and red bell pepper slices added a contrast of color, texture and temperature; lastly some tender green peas because they were fresh, tender and, frankly, cute. That well-loaded plate of food, it should be pointed out, cost me $7 and change and was well worth every bite; my friend's more modest portion was about $3-something. I was intrigued by the brussels sprout pate with walnuts and miso, available and priced by the pound in the deli case, but didn't buy any; I noticed that a few other people did, however. My friend glanced skeptically at my loaded platter; I assured her that it was meant for two meals, with some to be saved for the drive back home to New London. I wish I could tell you that is exactly what I did do. But, I shouldn't like to compound falsehood atop of gluttony. ***************************** After I saw the brussels sprouts pate I was determined to find a recipe (my new-found love of sprouts is well-recorded here), but I kept coming up with versions that included horseradish, not a walnut or a spoonful of miso in sight. The nearest approximation is a roasted chestnut and sprout pate recipe posted just days ago on the Rocket and Roses (love the name) Vegan Kitchen blog from the UK. I'd replace the chestnuts with toasted walnuts from Fiddleheads, which have distinct flavor of their own I've come to appreciate in the last few years. (If the walnuts you buy taste bitter, it means they've gone rancid.) FYI: the "rapeseed oil" referred to in the recipe is what we call "canola oil" on this side of the pond. As to the butternut and leek lasagna, there are so many variations on the internet that it's nearly absurd, with no way to tell which is "closest" to the EOTW version, other than knowing that what I ate did contain cheese and eggs. This vegan version from the blog Dinosaur Egg seems fairly simple to make and reasonably similar to what I had, sans the eggs but adding pine nuts. If pine nuts are unavailable or beyond your budget, once again walnuts make a very respectable substitute. There is also this version with shiitake mushrooms that sounds delicious if a bit more complicated and is neither vegan nor heart-healthy. (Why throw half-and-half in the blender with the butternut puree except for it's tongue-coating and artery-clogging properties? Broth and herbs would bring out the squash's natural flavor rather than masking it.) I have no way of knowing who first created or published a recipe for butternut leek lasagna, when I see a recipe repeated so many times online with the some of the exact same wording, I suspect a chef, cook, blogger or cookbook author not getting proper credit. *************** **Full disclosure: I'm not employed by EOTW, not connected to the owners or employees by way of kinship or acquaintance, and am NOT receiving any gratituty or compensation for writing this. Not even a free brownie. Alas. Someday, gentle reader, I shall find a way to make a living from all of this, but until then.... (Above: Wild rice pilaf with butternut squash; recipe and photograph copyright Cathy Elton, 2011.)
A few weeks back I'd posted a link on the Fiddleheads FB page to Cathy Elton's Healthy Thanksgiving Challenge on her blog What Would Cathy Eat? that's worth a revisit. 25 people, including yours truly, submitted recipes that are new twists on old classics, all vegan or vegetarian and healthier than the traditional versions and offerings: lower in fat, sugar, gluten-free and so forth. Then again, when I think about what appeared on our holiday tables back when I was growing up - gelatinous "gravy" from a can or jar, dehydrated "stuffing" from a box, potatoes cloaked with margarine and dolloped with sour cream, plus the ultimate triumph of corn syrup, the pecan pie - perhaps it isn't such such a challenge after all. Thanksgiving is over of course but another set of holidays is "around the bend". (As your brain will most likely be by the end of January, particularly if you work in retail.) But these recipes don't need the excuse of a "holiday" to give them a go; they are their own reason for being. Most utilize the wonderful, earthy ingredients particular to the season, (brussels sprouts, cranberries, winter squash, pears, etc); others make the most of items available throughout the year, such as garlic, quinoa and other grains.) I'm particularly intrigued by the vegan-apple pear, the quinoa bake, the variations on stuffed winter squash, the persimmon-arugula salad (I'm guessing that the escarole at the co-op from Hidden Brook Gardens, or any bitter green, would probably work as well), the wild-rice pilaf with butternut squash pictured above, the...well, you get the idea. Instant classics, every one. Of course if you really wanted to add meat or eggs or dairy or, a cup of butter to any of them, that's easily enough done, but I doubt you will once you give the originals a try. If you try any of these, do share your experience. (Rocked your world? Not so much?) And if you have a favorite seasonal recipe to share, especially along the lines of Cathy's challenge, and particularly using fresh ingredients available at Fiddleheads or whatever co-op is near you (but not exclusively so in either case) do drop me an line (see my addy in the sidebar) or share it in the comments. Yesterday I glanced at my calender and realized that next Tuesday, 12/20, is the first day of Hannukkah. What I know about the Festival of Lights could probably be seated atop a postage stamp. (Then again, I was raised Catholic, and what I know about that religion could probably fit comfortably inside a letter-sized envelope.) I am particularly ignorant about the foodways and culinary traditions associated with the festival.
So I'm putting out a call for Hannukkah recipes from those of you who celebrate it, be it the latkes handed down through 10 generations in your family, or your own creations. For this blog I'm particularly, though not exclusively, interested in recipes which update old traditions for modern times, be it low-fat, gluten-free, meatless, reduced sugar, or simply surprising twists using new ingredients. If I am deluged I may not be able to share them all but will do my best. If you have a photograph of the dish, please send that along as well (don't worry if it's not "professional" looking) If the recipe is not your own, that is if you've gotten it from a website, please send a link to the source; if from a book or from someone else, please give the name or proper credit. Send it all along to my email addy [email protected] Please include "Hannukkah Recipe" in title of your message. Or simply write up your recipe or guidelines for such in the comments field, if you prefer. Just one more guideline, gentle reader, for now and future: If your recipe includes some essential ingredient along the lines of "the honey-crusted goat cheese I acquired from the very highest summit of the Alps on my trip to Switzerland last summer", or "the rosso picento from my favorite wine shop in Rome," please do provide an equivalent ingredient or give us an idea for a substitute that can be sourced locally (in North America, at least). Is that honey-crusted goat cheese, for instance, soft, semi-soft, or hard? Is it similar to camembert, munster or parmesaen? (Or, heaven forbid, Velveeta?) And then do please kindly bring some back for me the next time you return from your adventures; I'd love to try it. And give my fond regards to the goat. So, now that I had made and fallen madly in love with roasted, glazed brussels sprouts, I of course went crowing about them to anyone in Fiddleheads co-op who would listen to my yammering. (Co-oper's are such a patient souls, bless them.)
Except for one gentleman who got right to the point, ever so gently: "So you're candying them and covering up the flavor?" (Bless him.) To which I stammered something along the lines of "No, I'm improving them!" before I made some lousy excuse to head to the back of the co-op. "Well, he did have a point," my friend, Miss Bliss (who would cringe seven ways to Sunday if I used her real name), replied when I recounted the incident to her. "They are a little too sweet." "Then you don't have to eat them," I said through gritted teeth. "No, I like them, all right. They're just a little sweet." *sigh* Everybody's a critic. But once I'd gotten over my initial defensiveness, it seemed a perfectly reasonable question, and a challenge: what did roasted brussels sprouts taste like without the sweetening glaze, and was I ready for it? And the timing was excellent, as it happened, to find out. In truth my cooking, or more broadly my relationship to cooking and to food in general, has evolved over the past two years, and for everything "there is a season" as the Psalmist sang. In the springtime it was sauces, all sorts of sauces, as I finally became truly comfortable with the ingredients at hand and what they could do together. "If I put this and this and this in, how will it taste?" became "I'll put this and this and this in, because I know it will taste good." The summertime was about the grill, about cutting the hardwood I found on the land myself, firing up that ancient, second-hand Weber, and letting the maple smoke infuse anything and everything: organic onions, zucchini, portobello caps, all from Fiddleheads, wild-caught salmon filets, local grass-fed beef from Four Mile River Farm, even sage and basil leaves from my garden. Then autumn came slowly, very slowly this year; the grill eventually went cold and was replaced by a new crockpot (slow cooker); the first one I've had since my mom's, as I went indoors and taught myself how to make soups, stews, and stocks, oftimes with scraps, seconds, and discards from the co-op. Now winter has...well, in truth I have no idea if winter is actually here or not (and would it please make up it's mind?), but the latest season of my culinary journey has come upon me and this time, it's lessons in simplicity. Fewer veggies in the pot, or the wok, or on the salmon fillet. Paring down to the essentials: good extra-virgin olive oil. Freshly cracked pepper. Grey or pink sea salt, oft ground fine in my mortar and pestle. A touch of cayenne, or a dash of cumin. Perhaps some freshly-grated ginger, depending. A few drops of apple cider vinegar as needed. These few ingredients go just as well on roasted brussels sprouts, perfectly respectable and not a hint of glaze in sight, as they do on broiled salmon steaks; these are the items that I'm certain I cannot be without in my kitchen. (Not that I'm surrendering my maple syrup, stoneground mustard, coconut oil, vanilla beans and extract, or bottles of cardamon, cinnamon and coriander any time soon. If ever. "Simplicity" is one thing, "insanity" is quite another.) Oven-Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Cumin 1 lb (approx.) fresh organic brussels sprouts, stem ends pared and halved or quartered, smallest ones left whole) 4 T olive oil sea salt and black pepper (pref. freshly cracked) to taste generous sprinkling of cumin to taste (did I measure how much? Of course not.) Preheat oven to 425 degrees (F); lightly oil a baking tray. Trim and half or quarter, depending on size, the brussels sprouts; leave smallest ones whole. Toss in a bowl with olive oil to coat, then sprinkle with the salt pepper and cayenne. If any leaves came off the sprouts during the trimming process, add them to the bowl. Spread sprouts on tray, place on rack in center of over and bake for 15-25 minutes or until fork-tender and slightly crisp on the outer leaves; use your own personal preference of what crispy/tender balance you prefer to guide you. (These can cook in the oven a bit longer than their glazed cousins because there is no sugar on the surface.) Serves four as a side dish. This dish is best served hot, right out of the oven, as the sprouts loose their crispness as they cool. Note: Instead of ground cumin, try dry-roasting whole cumin seeds in a hot skillet until they begin to "pop", let cool slightly then add to the sprouts, oil and other spices at the beginning. I've decided to bring back another golden "not-so-oldie" you may have seen previously on Catch A Falling Anise Star via the Fiddleheads FB page. I had challenged myself to make this year's batch of cranberry sauce with as little sweetener as possible; the photo below and recipe above are the happy results.
Years ago in North Carolina a friend invited me over to her cabin in the woods for a Thanksgiving feast; it was there, bubbling away atop her antique cast iron wood stove, that I first set eyes on homemade cranberry sauce. (Talk about atmosphere!) The sight of it hit me with the force of revelation. Before that it had never even occurred to me that it could be made at home, much less to attempt it. (In my own defense, it was the 1970's. If a foodstuff didn't come to the dining table from a can, jar, frozen lump, plastic bag, box or waxed bucket, it didn't exist.) As a culture and a nation, I think it's fair to say that we had lost touch with the notion of "eating seasonally", thanks to developments in agricultural industry, and to year-round availability of items at the grocery stores. It's a concept that many of us are just now finding our way back towards. The exceptions have been certain holiday foods and traditions that have always been "seasonal" to a fault. Why, for instance, is cranberry sauce a "must" for the Thanksgiving table, but then gets short-shrift the remainder of the season? Is it due to memories - good and bad - of that wiggly red jellied stuff out of the cans, that oozed into our gravy on the plate? Perfect fun food for a five-year-old but hard to respect, much less love, once you've outgrown knee pants. This sauce, on the other hand - this sauce demands, and commands, respect. And love. Possibly total obedience. (You have your kinks, I have mine.) Homemade Low-Sugar Cranberry Sauce 1 lb organic cranberries, rinsed, drained and culled 10 T organic maple syrup, or raw agave to taste (see Note at bottom) 1 T honey (optional) good quality organic cranberry juice from concentrate (RW Knudson or Lakewood are good brands, but use your favorite brand) 2 organic valencia or juicing oranges In a heavy-bottom pot put the cranberries and add enough cranberry juice to almost but not quite cover. Simmer on low, stirring frequently, being careful to avoid scorching; add the sweeteners and the entire pulp and juice of the two oranges. Add zest from the oranges if desired only if they are organic. Adjust sweetener to taste, simmer until mixture reduces to 1/3-1/2 and has the desired texture (I prefer mine a bit chunky); the sauce should have a rich rose-red color. Cool and refrigerate overnight; the flavors improve and mellow. NOTE: Another co-op member tried this recipe with agave syrup instead of the maple syrup and had very good results with it. I know that there is a lot of controversy surrounding agave at the moment, and partisans on both sides (Dr Andrew Weil, for instance, notes that one needs less of it than other sweeteners because of it's concentration, and that it's his primary choice as a sweetener.) I don't keep it in my kitchen at the moment. That said, I would have used it for this if I'd had it at hand. I love it's "pourability" - thicker than maple syrup but thinner than honey - and it's neutral flavor. I leave the choice to you, gentle reader. (A modified version of this post originally appeared on CatchAFallingAniseStar )
"I hate brussels sprouts" I declared with the definite arrogance of the close-minded. I was staring at the season's first shipment of raw, organic sprouts that had just arrived at Fiddleheads, flicking over ancient childhood memories of those greyish, overcooked, nasty little nobs that came from a can. "Try them roasted and glazed," other members of the co-op insisted. "You'll fall in love with them." By that point I had already roasted (and grilled) kale chips and all manner of green things, so when I looked up recipes online, I found the technique was quite similar: rub with olive oil, salt and pepper, bake in oven, sit back and enjoy the compliments. Cathy Elton's version had a recipe with a fabulous-sounding maple-mustard glaze, but she roasts them whole and the cooking time is 40-50 minutes. I needed mine done in under 25 for dinner. One of Cathy's favorite sites, Leafy Greens and Me, has a variation in which the sprouts are cut in halves or quarters to speed the cooking time to about 15 minutes. Perfect...except that the glaze consists almost entirely of maple syrup, after having roasted the veggies with a bit of olive oil and salt and pepper. So I smashed the two recipes together, added some twists of my own - onion, cayenne pepper - and gave it a go. Consider me a convert. Oven-Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Maple-Mustard-Cayenne Glaze 1 lb (approx.) fresh organic brussels sprouts, stem ends pared and halved or quartered, smallest ones left whole) 4 T olive oil sea salt and black pepper (pref. freshly cracked) to taste 1/4 tea or generous dash of cayenne pepper, or to taste (optional) 1/4 Grade B maple syrup organic stoneground mustard (coarsely-ground) to taste (about 1 T) 1 T extra-virgin olive oil juice of 1/4 freshly squeezed lemon 1/4 medium-sized yellow or white onion, chopped Preheat oven to 425 degrees (F); lightly oil a baking tray. Trim and half or quarter, depending on size, the brussels sprouts; leave smallest ones whole. Toss in a bowl with olive oil to coat, then sprinkle with the salt pepper and cayenne. If any leaves came off the sprouts during the trimming process, add them to the bowl. Spread sprouts on tray, place on rack in center of over and bake for 10-15 minutes or until fork-tender and slightly crisp on the outer leaves; turn 2-3 times during cooking process to bake evenly. (Any loose leaves tend to cook quickest and become tasty little miniature chips.) In the meantime combine remaining ingredients for the glaze, emulsify until thoroughly blended and opaque. When sprouts are tender, remove from oven and turn temperature down to 375 degrees. Pour enough glaze over the sprouts to coat thoroughly when tossed on tray, but do not "drown" them; store any remaining glaze in the fridge for future use. Return to the oven and bake for an additional 5 minutes. Serves four. Note: Replace cayenne with fresh hot red pepper, finely chopped, or dried pepper flakes if desired. |
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