The lovely ladies of our Produce Team: Amelia Lord, Sue Guida & Wendy Jakobski at the Mystic Marriott, 04/16/12. (Photo courtesy of Wendy Jakobski.) On Monday Chef Paul Krawic invited Fiddleheads to do a tasting at the Marriott in New London to sample the Produce Dept's wares. Richard Virgin, Wendy Jakobski, Sue Guida and Amelia Lord were the "prep chefs" for the evening. Dishes sampled included a vegetarian stiry fry done by Richard, Sue's wheatberry salad, and sweet potato-lentil stew from Alicia's Silverstone's book The Kind Diet, brought to us by Alison La Bella. Sue told us her recipe for wheatberry & fruit salad came from Cooking Light Magazine, April 2010**; she has made it with and without the goat cheese listed, and each versions has it's devoted partisans here at the co-op. In other words, it's delicious either way, and the folks who got to taste it Wednesday night at the hotel certainly agreed. Amelia, Sue and Richard Virgin "represent" Fiddleheads at the Marriott, with humor and style to spare. (Photo courtesy of Wendy Jakobski.)
We had a lot of requests for the sweet potato and lentil stew recipe from folks who sampled it that night, and we promised to share it here: Alicia Silverstone's Sweet Potato & Lentil Stew From The Kind Diet (Rodale Books, 2009) 1/4 cup safflower oil 1 medium onion, diced 2 small tomatoes, diced, or 2 Tbsp tomato paste 1 tsp. fresh ginger, minced 1 1/2 tsps. turmeric 1 tsp. cumin 1 tsp. ground coriander 1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon 1/8 tsp. cayenne fine sea salt 2-3 medium sweet potatoes,peeled and cut into 3/4 inch cubes 7 cups vegetable broth 1 cup lentils, brown or multi-colored Heat the oil over medium in a large, deep pot. Add the onion and cook, stirring frequently, for 2 minutes or until the onion starts to soften. Stir in the tomatoes or paste and ginger and cook for 3 minutes. Stir in the turmeric, cumin, coriander, cinnamon, cayenne, and a small pinch of salt. Cook and stir for 2 minutes, then taste for seasonings; try to use only enough salt to heighten the flavors. Add the sweet potatoes, broth, and lentils. Stir well, and bring to a boil over high heat. When the mixture comes to a boil, reduce the heat, cover, and simmer for 30 - 40 minutes or until the lentils and sweet potatoes are soft. Serve on its own, or over rice or couscous. Serves 4-6. **Earlier today I listed Women's Day Magazine as the source of the wheatberry salad recipe; Sue corrected me and that has been fixed. -J-
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By Popular Demand: Kielbasa with Three Mushroom-Veggie Medley, & Four Mushroom Vegan Variation1/30/2012 Can you believe that Fiddleheads 4th anniversary celebration is less than a week away (Saturday, Feb 4th)? I know I can't. Didn't we just have the 3rd anniversary party maybe a month ago? That was the day I began grilling up samples of Four Mile River Farm's beef and pork for the Saturday markets. All the other vendors had samples every Saturday, why shouldn't FMRF? It looked like a lot more fun than what I had been doing, just sitting at the booth and talking about the products, and a lot more effective. Sure I can sell up the wazoo and talk a blue streak (in case you haven't noticed), but actually getting to taste their grass-fed, hormone-free locally-raised beef and pork is a whole 'nuther matter. (Fact: gross sales on Saturdays easily doubled last year when I started serving the little morsels at the booth.) It's obvious from first bite that this is nothing like the half-rancid, chemical and dye-injected flesh, from animals raised in feedlots, that generally passes for "meat" at the big-box retailers. The taste is what sells it, and in this instance I get to sell both the sizzle (the flavor) and the actual steak (or hamburger, or bacon, or....)
The only problem was - I was starting to get a little bored. Not with the customers and the interactions (can I ever grow tired of the exclamations of surprise and delight? No, I cannot), but with the samples themselves. There is only so many times you can sample hot dogs and top round pork sausages, however excellent they may be, before you begin to wonder *cue Peggy Lee* "Is that all there is?" So over the last few weeks at the Four Mile River Farm booth on Saturdays (during the Indoor Farmers Market at FH), I've been experimenting with adding vegetables from the produce department to the usual meat samples. This particular dish, for kielbasa with mushroom-vegetable medley, is typical of my M.O. - there's little or no pre-planning involved; I look at what is available and fresh, what will go with the cut of meat I'm cooking, when I arrive at the co-op that morning. Then I walk across the aisle to the Bulk Herbs and Spices section, open the jars and let my nose help me decide what will best compliment the food. No measuring spoons, no exactitudes, just a bit of this or that according to feel. Add a little oil, olive or sesame depending on what's needed, from the general bulk section, and - TAH-DAH! - I'm serving up a tasty, satisfying and delicious snack in no time. It's better than any magician's trick. Several customers asked me to post the "recipe" so here it is, but once again, it's merely a guideline; the measurements below of all the seasonings and mushrooms are to be taken with the proverbial grain of salt. Speaking of salt - I put the seasonings into small bowls or dishes, salt and pepper separately from the other herbs; this gives me a bit more control over the seasonings than putting them all in one dish. I use the large traditional size kielbasa, rather than the kellie dogs (hot dog-sized) here. Although kielbasa is the centerpiece, I've made very similar meals of mushrooms and various veggies at home as main dishes without any meat in them, replacing the sausage with sliced portabello mushrooms (see Vegan Version below). You could also add tempeh, seitan, tofu, etc. - any extra protein you like, or none at all. Kielbasa with Three-Mushroom & Vegetable Medley finely-ground sea salt, and ground or cracked black pepper marjoram, dried and sifted, about 1-2 teaspoons pinch each of ground sage and organo, or about 1/8 - 1/4 teaspoon extra-virgin olive oil 1 large kielbasa (traditional ring or oval-shaped), cut into slices then quartered 1 large red onion, sliced or coarsely chopped 3/4 cup (approx.) white button and/or crimini mushrooms 3/4 -1 cup shiitake mushroom caps, stems removed 1-2 bell pepper, any color , sliced or chopped Combine salt and pepper into one cup or dish, and the marjoram, oregano and sage into another; combine each well. Set aside. Heat up electric frypan or skillet on medium with a scant amount of oil, and add the kielbasa chunks and chopped onions. Cook until the meat is golden brown on all sides and the onions likewise golden and limp; do not burn. In the meantime brush any remaining dirt from the mushrooms and cut the larger button or crimini 'shrooms into halves or quarters as needed. Likewise tear the larger shiitake caps into halves or quarters, leaving the smaller ones whole; be sure to reserve the stems for later use in broth, etc. Put the mushrooms and peppers into a bowl, sprinkle with some of the salt and pepper, then some of the herb mixture to taste. Drizzle with just enough olive oil to coat, and combine until seasonings and herbs are well-distributed. When meat is nearly (but not quite) done, add vegetables to the pan, and continue to cook, stirring occasionally, for a couple of minutes until the mushrooms and peppers are tender, al dente, but not overcooked; the peppers should still retain some of their original color. Serve immediately. Four-Mushroom Vegan Version: Replace the kielbasa with 2 large portabello mushroom caps, stems removed, cut into chunks or slices. On Saturday I had accompanied the bulgogi (see previous post) I sampled at Fiddleheads with strips of daikon radish that I seasoned and stir-fried or sauteed in the electric skillet along with the beef. I had meant to include the recipe in yesterday's write-up at this blog but forgot to include it.
I hadn't decided on the daikon until after I'd gotten to the co-op and was heating up the electric skillet, but it seemed a natural fit with the Korean beef recipe. The marinade was something I threw together on the spot entirely from ingredients available to me right there in the bulk section: rice vinegar, sesame oil, five spice powder and curry powder. Carol Booth, our bulk spice buyer, suggested the five-spice powder; the one she purchased for the co-op is redolent of cinnamon and milder in flavor than previous versions of the seasoning I've encountered, which were robust and rather awful. The curry powder I used is the one that is simply labeled "curry powder", is a brighter yellow-orange than the other jar of "machi" curry, and has a subtler fragrance with an almost floral quality. The other powder is a dull yellow and smells like the kitchen of an Indian restaurant. I used coconut sugar from bulk because I didn't have honey or agave available; for the same reason I used kosher salt instead of soy sauce. As I was throwing things together right there at the co-op into my bowl, I was unable to measure anything and so went by taste. In other words, this is (per usual) more of a suggestion than a set-in-stone recipe - and all brickbats should therefore be slung my way. Briefly, daikon is a radish of Asian origin that is milder than the familiar red radish; it's crisp texture and mild taste are actually closer to a turnip once cooked, although it still has a mild "bite" when raw. When you go to the co-op's produce section, you'll see it near the carrots; it's a thick and elongated white "club" (at least it looks to me like you could whack someone with it in a desperate emergency, although I doubt it would inflict lasting damage.) You can use it any way you would use any other root veggie: shredded raw on salads, stir-fried (my favorite way to cook it), oven-roasted, pickled; it can even be boiled, pureed and served as you would mashed potatoes. In fact, one young customer at the co-op Saturday, barely taller than the FMRF table, said that his sample "tastes just like potato!" And as he finished it off with a grin on his face, I took that as a seal of approval. Seasoned Daikon "Fries" (Skillet Version) (with thanks to Carol Booth for her advice and assistance) 1 daikon radish, cut into strips about the size and shape of a standard french fry Marinade the strips in a combination of the following: brown rice vinegar toasted sesame oil curry powder five-spice powder salt (kosher, sea salt, or soy sauce) sugar (coconut, raw, honey or agave) Adjust seasonings to taste, pour over daikon strips, and set aside while your lightly-oiled skillet or wok is heating up. When the pan is just hot (don't let the oil smoke or burn) toss the strips in, and turn every so often with your spatula until brown on all sides and the strips are as crisp or as tender as you like. The longer the strips sit in the marinade the more quickly they cook and the more tender they become, so time accordingly. If you want them to have some crispness, let marinade a few minutes to an hour; longer if you want them more tender. Serve alongside bulgogi (Korean marinaded beef), perhaps wrapped up in lettuce leaves, or drain on paper towels and serve as a snack or appetizer. (Photo courtesy of Loretta McElwee and used by permission.)
When my friend and fellow co-op member Loretta McElwee passed along her friend Nat Hale's recipe to me a couple of weeks ago, I admit I wasn't particularly open-minded about it: "Cheese, butter and rum with chard? Delicate, perfect-just-as-it-is-the-way-the-Universe-intended-it chard? Sacrilege, that's what it is." Then she then made it herself and sent me the photos, such as the one above, and I decided that perhaps I could be seduced, after all. (Apparently I am easy, if not necessarily cheap. Or am I cheap but not easy? Just ask my friend Miss B.) Loretta wrote in her email to me: "I made this twice - once with goat cheese, which I didn't care for, and once with Havarti which I loved!" Nat's recipe simply calls for "soft cheese" and he suggests a few options; so follow Loretta's lead in choosing one that you prefer. When I asked her about the butter, she thought that it could be omitted and olive oil used by itself without affecting the recipe. (I had no problem with the cheese and rum, but freaked over the butter? No, I don't understand it, either.) Nat Hale's Swiss Chard with Soft Cheese, Balsamic and Rum 1 bunch swiss chard, any variety 2 tbsp. olive oil 3 cloves of garlic diced 1 cup white wine 1 tbsp. balsamic vinegar 1 tbsp. spiced rum 2 tbsp. of soft cheese, such as goat cheese, or havarti Wash the chard and separate the leaves from the stems. Tear the leaves into bit sized pieces and cut up the stems. In a deep skillet, heat the butter and olive oil. When butter melts, add garlic. Add wine and chard stems. Cover and cook on medium until stems are soft. Add chard leaves. Cover and cook until the leaves have reduced in size and most of the liquid is evaporated. Stir occasionally; reduce the heat if you plan to leave unattended. Add balsamic vinegar, spiced rum, and cheese. Cover until cheese melts. Serve. A) What is the correct pronunciation of the word "Quinoa"?
1) "KEEN-wah" 2) "kwi-NO-uh" 3) "All I know is that when I tried to say it at the Christmas party, everyone laughed at me. Since then I prefer to keep to myself." 4) "I have no idea what you're talking about. Is that some Native American rock band?" B) Well, what exactly IS quinoa? 1) "A seed of a plant that is a member of the goosefoot family, native to South America. Humans have cultivated it as a food source for over 3000 years. Did you know it's a great source of vegetable protein and that the Aztecs....." 2) "Some sort of fluffy stuff my health-crazy spouse/significant other keeps foisting on me. *sigh* The things I do for love." 3) "Enya's latest album?" 4) "If it's not a Native American rock band then I still have no idea what the heck you're talking about." If you're looking for the answers, go to the bottom of this article - or try Hari Krishna. (Yes, that was a shameless theft.) Most of the references to quinoa I've seen refer to it as a grain. But according to this article(and if it's on Wikipedia you know it's got to be true, right?), quinoa is "a species of goosefoot...grown for it's edible grain-like seeds. It is a pseudocereal rather than a true cereal or grain, as it is not a member of the grass family." *end horticulture lesson* I'd never heard of it myself until just a few years ago; now it seems nearly everyone has heard of it, and for good reason. It's a source of vegetable protein (just how much, exactly, is under debate), gluten-free and easily digestible, making it a boon to the veganarian menu, and to anyone suffering celiac's disease (or related allergies). It's also quick and easy to make, ready in about 10-15 minutes on the stovetop compared to 30-45 minutes needed for brown rice or wheatberries. Even though it's not a "true grain" it can take the place of rice, etc at any meal. And it's extremely versatile: it's soft texture and bland flavor let the stronger ingredients shine in any dish. (I've had it for breakfast in place of oatmeal, which is carb-heavy and makes me a bit sleepy by lunchtime.) If you're new to it and trying to find out how to make the most of it, the recipes available online are literally, countless; the problem is not finding a recipe, but choosing one. A few ideas to get you started: Lemon Quinoa with Asparagus and Feta from the Cookthink website caught my eye almost immediately because of it's "sunny" quality and balance of flavors. Substitute 1/2 tea. dried in place of the 1 tea. fresh herb called for. Substituting fresh cilantro, flatleaf parsley or basil would give it a different character, I should think, but might be worth a try anyway. Cooking Quinoa, as you might imagine from the name, has so many recipes I didn't know where to begin - until this recipe for Quinoa Chocolate Bars stopped me dead in my tracks. Yes, chocolate - real chocolate - plus coconut butter, almonds, a bit of salt. Some of the dried cherries or blueberries from our Bulk section would be amazing in these. A very informative website, hundreds of recipes, but lots of images and can be slow to load. (It seems to work better with Safari than Foxfire.) What Would Cathy Eat? is one of my favorite go-to websites for recipes that are veganarian AND heart-healthy, which are not always the same things, as well as plain delicious. A few that are perfect for what it's in season and available at the co-op right now: Curried Quinoa with Cauliflower and Stuffed Kabocha Squash with Quinoa and Chickpeas. I've seen a lot of recipes online that use quinoa as a stuffing for all varieties of hard squash, so you can really give your imagination free play here. Quinoa can also be sprouted as a microgreen; here's some instructions from yet another quinoa-dedicated website called (what else?) Quinoa Health Tips. (At this point, quinoa just might be more famous than the Beatles.) Hopefully that will get you off and running if you're new to quinoa; if you were ahead of the curve and it's already a part of your menu, what are your favorite ways to use it? Share in the comments section here or drop me an email. Answers To "The Quinoa Quiz": A) #1. If you answered #2-4, do come to the Bulk Section of Fiddleheads where we will answer all your questions, and then some. And hopefully save you from embarrassment at your next party - just don't attempt to say "tumeric". B) Also #1. If you said #3 or 4, then see answer to A (above) and get thyself down to the co-op. If you said #2 - we admire your dedication to your partner and your willingness to try new things. (That said, you probably deserve a little payback. Five words: Last Thanksgiving. Your Uncle Jack. 'nuff said.) 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.... 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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