Showing posts with label greens. Show all posts
Showing posts with label greens. Show all posts

Monday, May 24, 2010

Relishing Radishes

If any of you garden, you know what it's like to go on vacation and return to what was once your tame, mild-mannered little plot and is now a rampant, exploded, wilderness of greenery. I kind of love that. While we were eating mangos and poke (not together) in Hawaii, our zucchinis put out their first fruits, the radishes grew to monstrous proportions, and the beets are now a harvestable jungle. It makes me giggle. I have been looking forward to this moment, when I can eat nearly every meal from the back yard for months now. I am determined to plan things better this year and continue gardening through the winter. Oh, and if anyone wants bags full of a slightly leggy mesclun mix, please take it off my hands. I need to replant the area with either 1) more greens for salads or 2) more beets? more parsnips? broccoli? cabbage?
I've been making salads for dinner, which is the perfect way to end a day. Loads of healthy greens, a few cooked veggies, a little protein, some flavorful accents and chopped herbs. The variations are pretty much endless, but I've been eating a pseudo-Nicoise salad almost exclusively and haven't gotten tired of it yet. What makes it pseudo? Well, there is no tuna. Cause I don't have any in the house right now. And the olives are kalamata, not nicoise. And I threw in some sunflower sprouts. Other than that, it has the greenery, the steamed green beans and new potatoes, the olives and the anchovies (oh, yes), and a mustardy vinaigrette with shallot. To make it even more Francais, I chopped up a handful of chervil and scattered it over the top of everything. I'm kind of obsessed with two things in the garden right now: chervil and radishes. Chervil is a wonderfully delicate herb with a taste somewhere between fennel and parsely. It is used quite a bit in French cooking, but seems underappreciated here in the Colonies. And radishes are an almost ubiquitous back yard staple, underappreciated and often grown out of a sense of duty rather than joy. At least for me. But this year I have discovered the pleasures of this humble, quick growing treasure. Best of all, I have found a way to serve it to Mr. Seasonality so that even he will enjoy it. Miracle of miracles.
A radish on it's own is a bit overwhelming (especially when it is roughly the size of a kitten); spicy, pungent, crisp and tender. A couple bites of one of ours sets my mouth and gut on fire and not in a good way. Paul Pitchford says that radishes are cool, pungent and sweet in nature. They transform phlegm, relieve food stagnation and are detoxifying. In Western medicine, radishes are used as a remedy for stones in the gallbladder, kidney and bladder. My mother used to make this concoction for sore throats (which I had plenty of as a child) that was surprisingly effective: one or two radishes sliced thin into a small jar and moisten with a tablespoon or so of honey. Let it sit for a few hours until the honey pulls the moisture out of the radishes and they become shriveled looking. Then drink the liquid in small sips over the course of a day. According to Mr. Pitchford, those of us with deficiency cold should not eat radishes, which is too sad to even think of. I have to say that too much of them throws off my balance, but as long as it is warm outside and my digestion is primed and on line, I'll probably keep eating radish in moderation. I'll let you know if I get any side effects.

Pseudo-Nicoise Salad
Part of the enjoyment of this as a meal is the presentation, so have fun with the
arrangement of the different elements on the plate

Boil water for steaming. In a steamer basket, cook until very lightly tender (10 minutes or so):
3 new potatoes, halved, per person
Add:
1 small handful green beans per person
Steam for 4-5 minutes, or until tender but not mushy.
Arrange on individual plates:
Large bunch of salad greens (I would encourage the inclusion of arugula)
3 anchovy fillets per person
4 or 5 olives (use kalamata or nicoise, not plain black) per person
A handful of sprouts (optional)
A handful of chervil or parsely, chopped per person (optional)
1 hard boiled egg per person (optional)
Sprinkle of blue cheese (optional)
Dress with your favorite vinaigrette. Or use mine.
Dressing:
Mix together in a small jar:
1/2 shallot, finely chopped
1/2 tsp Dijon mustard
1/4 cup olive oil
2 tablespoons red wine vinegar (or to taste)
pinch of salt


Radish Crostini

1 slice of bread (Sourdough is nice), toasted
Slather amply or to taste with:
butter
Arrange over the top:
1 large or 2 normal sized radishes
And sprinkle with:
pinch of fleur de sel
Devour. Enjoy.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Market Treasures and Garden Update


Oh, how I love spring. The bursting, vibrant energy that makes my blood sing, the warm touch of sunshine... these are days that remind me over and over how very fortunate I am to be alive and healthy. I am a lucky girl. Spring in California is a bit of a strange bird, in that it is never really severe enough winter to get the full effect of the bone-deep relief that comes with the first warm days. Winters here are damp and chill above all else, but the rains of winter make everything lusciously green for a couple months until the sun and lack of rain browns it all up again. We're having a bit of an unusual spring here, the winter storms which normally cease and desist in early April are continuing their onslaught right through to the end of the month. Today is a blustery and rainy day, but I'm trying not to mind because the garden really does love all the extra moisture it can get.
Things are taking off in the garden right now. We have the tomatoes (sungold, cherokee chocolate, hillbilly, black cherry, yellow pear cherry, san marzano paste, marvel striped, green zebra, paul robeson) in the ground and already sending up new leaves. The beans (dragon's tongue, royalty purple pod, tiger's eye) that are surviving nightly raids by slugs and snails are unfolding shiny second leaves. Zucchinis (raven, ronde de nice) seem to be doing much better than last year, and are already expanding magnificently. The lettuce seedlings (parris island cos, flashy trout's back, merlot) are as lovely as a party dress. And in my new bed, the carrot, beet (chioggia), lettuce (red and green oak leaf) and radish (french breakfast) seedlings are on their way quite nicely. Corn (triple play from last year's harvest), winter squash (potimarron, Pennsylvania Dutch crookneck), chard (bright lights) and basil are all up, but struggling a bit. After all, winter hasn't quite given up on us yet.
With all this bounty just around the corner, I'm still going to the farmer's market every week to stock up on veg (other than arugula and lettuce). As my own garden progresses, I'll keep going for our staples of locally grown sheep cheese and lamb sausage, dates, and when the season starts, stone fruits, but I will be subsisting mostly off of what we grow in the back yard. This Saturday's market was particularly exciting and I got some treasures that made me as giddy as if I had found a pair of designer shoes at Ross for ten bucks. Hey, sometimes it happens. My bounty consists of an ugly/cute celeriac, the first fava beans, broccoli, sorrel, crimini mushrooms, sheep feta, green curly kale, beets, a basket of perfectly ripe strawberries and the crowning glory, purple asparagus. Yup, it comes in purple. The stalks are smooth, almost velvety looking and dark violet colored. They cook up crunchy and sweet and take on a dark green tint, but some of the purple stays with a light and quick steaming.
To celebrate such treasures, I had to make something special. Like a quiche. But with a crust this time. I cannot tell you how terrified I have been for years by crust making. Until recently, we did not own a food processor and so making a crust would find me trying to blend cold butter and flour with two butter knives battling for dominance, swearing like a sailor and ending up with an overworked, leaden mess of wanna-be pastry. But no longer! Thank god for food processors. My Kitchen Aid is now my new hero.
With the quiche done, I set myself to a Deborah Madison recipe that sounded intreguing but potentially icky. Braised broccoli with olives requires a long cooked broccoli that is falling apart tender, and could be a bit too close to the overcooked limpness I've accidentally made in the past. I should know better by now than to doubt that woman. It came out brilliantly, with the broccoli well flavored with tangy olives, oregano and lemon. I've been spooning it onto toast with a sprinkling of sheep feta for lunch, which is a wonderful way to eat more veg.
Lastly, a strawberry dessert. I tried for puff pastry tartlets with pastry cream and sliced strawberries. This was a bit less successful, so I'm reserving the recipe until I can get it better.
To finish things off, a tea of nettles, oatstraw, raspberry leaf, lavender, rose and garden peppermint. These are some of the best herbs to keep the nervous system relaxed and the hormones balanced, which is important during these times of finals.
And that's pretty much it. Except for Mr. Seasonality's foray into ale making, which is very exciting. He took a recipe by Hugh Fearnly-Whittingstall for Nettle beer and added a wee bit of lemon balm. It should be ready tomorrowish, so I'll let you all know how it tastes. I'm very excited.



Greens, Potato and Artichoke Quiche

1 recipe for pie crust (I use this one from Smitten Kitchen), par-baked

Arrange on the bottom of the crust:
2 medium waxy potatoes like Yukon Gold, boiled till lightly tender and sliced
Scatter over the potatoes:
1/4 cup crumbled or shredded cheese (I used sheep feta, which is amazing)
Sweat in a wide pan until transluscent with a wee bit of olive oil:
1 medium onion, chopped
Add:
1/2 bunch sorrel, chopped
1/2 bunch chard, chopped
Handful of nettles, cooked and chopped (optional)
1 sprig of oregano or marjoram or thyme, finely chopped
And cook until the greens are wilted and greatly reduced in volume. Arrange the greens over the potatoes and feta.
Over the greens, place:
6 artichoke hearts, halved
While the greens are cooking make the custard of:
4 eggs, beaten
Whisk in:
3/4 cup whole milk (preferably raw)
Pinch of salt and pepper
Pour the custard over everything and bake at 375 for about an hour, or until the top is golden and there is no liquidy center.


Braised Broccoli with Olives
Adapted from Local Flavors, by Deborah Madison

Bring about 8 cups salted water to a boil in a large pot.
Add:
3 heads of broccoli, cut into florets
stalks of broccoli, peeled and chopped into 1/2 inch chunks
Cook for 10 minutes, then remove promptly to a colander, reserving:
1 cup cooking liquid.
Chop the broccoli up into wee bits and set aside.
In a large pan, heat a wee bit of olive oil
Add and sweat till transluscent:
1 large shallot, sliced (or an onion)
4 cloves of garlic
Add:
1/4 cup chopped green olives
1-2 tblsp chopped oregano
finely grated zest of 1 Meyer lemon
Cook together until fragrent, about 1 minute.
Add in:
the broccoli
reserved cooking liquid
Cook on medium-low heat for about 15-20 minutes, or until the broccoli is super tender and falling apart.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Lamb Stew and Greek greens

I've been absolutely craving red meat lately, which happens about once a year for me. I generally subscribe to the philosophy of 'if your body really wants it, give your body what it wants'. Everyone's is different. So I've been making lamb stews for the last couple weeks. The surprise is that Mr. Seasonality has actually been eating them with as much gusto as me! He has been a non-red-meat-eater for, well, a long time. But the body's demands are hard to deny, and he has felt that this dip into carnivory is nourishing and good. I know that in a week or two, my own need for tender lamb cooked until it falls apart on the fork will be replaced by the Spring time desire to consume all things green and sprout-like. With lots of Meyer lemons, naturally.
Tonight's dinner is a mix of these two desires: meat and veggies. The meat portion is adapted from Deborah Madison's brilliant book, "Local Flavors", and is a recipe for lamb shanks braised with onions and rosemary. The veggie portion is inspired by Martha Rose Shulman's version of Spanikopita, which, brilliantly, uses chard instead of spinach. Always nice to find another chard lover. I just took out the crust and played around with it a lot.

Greek Greens Bake

Wash and stem:

2 large bunches of greens, chopped (if using chard, reserve stalks and chop finely)

chop:

½ onion

sauté until soft in a wee bit of olive oil with the chard stems.

Add and cook together for a few minutes:

1 leek, white and pale green parts, sliced

then add:

½ tsp dried thyme

1 tsp dried dill

But you can use any herbs, either fresh or dried to your taste. This is what I had on hand.

Add in the greens and cook until greens are soft and wilty. Set aside and cool.

In a bowl, beat together:

2 large/jumbo eggs

¼ cup greek yogurt (I know it's weird, but trust me)

¼ to ½ cup feta cheese

add in the cooked greens and

½ tsp lemon zest

Pour into a non-stick 8x8 baking dish and bake at 350


Lamb Shanks Braised with Onions and Rosemary:


4 lamb shanks, rinsed and patted dry

1/4 cup flour for dredging

salt and pepper

3 cloves of garlic, 1 crushed and minced, 2 sliced thin

Rub the lamb with salt and pepper and crushed garlic. Stuff the slivers into the folds of the meat. Dredge the shanks in flour.

In a Dutch oven or cassarole dish, heat on medium high:

3 tblsp olive oil

Brown the meat on as many sides as you can and remove to a plate.

Brown the onions in the dish for about 7 minutes and add:

3tbsp chopped rosemary

1/2 tsp dried thyme

2 or 3 tblsp balsamic vinegar

Add the lamb back into the dish and add:

1 cup red wine

Bring to a boil and simmer until it is reduced by half.

Add:

3 cups of liquid (I used 2 cups chicken stock and 1 cup water)

And bring to a boil then reduce to simmer. You can continue to simmer over the stove top or you can place the dish in the oven at 325 to cook all afternoon. Stove top it should take about 2 hours for the meat to start falling off the bone.