Archive for May, 2012

May 31, 2012

Crispy arugula salad with citrus and walnuts

My boy, with the galaxy of freckles across his nose and cheeks, is almost big enough to go off to school by himself all day.

Even though this won’t happen until fall, I thought about it a lot last week. With all the rain, I felt glad for a chance to nestle in with him at home for a couple of days, without much to do other than working together on his Storm Trooper mask. Soon those kinds of days will be more limited, and nearly never the result of something so unremarkable as a playmate getting sick or the weather turning.

He’s been drawing a lot lately and during the past week he worked for long periods of time at the art table. This gave me extra time to work around the house or sneak in a few minutes on my own projects. He’d always call me in after awhile, to help him draw Boba Fett or add to one of his blueprints for a trap (to catch the bad guys). Once we took a walk. More than once, between cloudbursts, we went out back where he poked a stick in the pond and I ran my fingers over some mosses growing on the rocks.

When time is moving slowly like that, I feel okay about getting less done. It’s simple to be together, in parallel spaces, piddling around.

Later, when my daughter is home and the afternoon light hits the floor in the family room a certain way, that’s when I get back into the swing of things. That’s when I first think about dinner. I pull produce out of the fridge and jars out of the pantry.

I let my kids sample bits of ingredients while I’m prepping the meal. Unless, of course, I’m making kale chips. When that happens, I have to shoo away little hands so the serving dish makes it to the dinner table. I mean, the kids devour them. So do the grown-ups.

And I love that. But it often means the rest of the meal sits forgotten while olive oil-covered fingers scrape the salty remnants off the bottom of the dish. What about the soup? The buttered toast? The oranges, cut into pretty discs?

So today’s recipe incorporates crispy greens into the meal. Think of it as a salad and snack combined, salty arugula with citrus and a comforting vinaigrette.

I’d never made chips out of arugula leaves before so I tried it two ways, in the oven and on a stovetop grill. The baked leaves tasted better, probably because I remembered to dash in some sea salt as I was rubbing oil into the leaves. (Salt them, by all means, but do so sparingly. The salty flavor jumps out.) The grilled leaves looked nicer, keeping some of their bright green color and acquiring those pretty horizontal lines. In the future I’ll grill them and remember the salt.

I kept the long stems on the leaves, figuring they’d be nice handles for turning and would eventually crisp, like Chinese noodles. They were nice for grabbing with the tongs but they didn’t crisp, still soggy when the leaves were perfectly done. I ended up trimming the stems off before placing in the salad bowl. Next time I’ll crisp the leaves alone.


Crispy Arugula Salad with Citrus and Walnuts
adapted from The Reluctant Gourmet

1 large bunch of arugula, washed and dried well
olive oil, for coating leaves
sea salt
1-3 pieces of your favorite citrus fruit such as navel oranges or tangerines
1/2 cup walnuts, chopped
2-3 garlic cloves, minced
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon walnut oil
½-1  T sherry vinegar or white balsamic
½-1 tsp maple syrup
sea salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste
goat cheese or another soft cheese

Heat a griddle to medium or preheat the oven to 350°. Wash arugula
leaves and dry thoroughly with a dish towel. Toss leaves with olive oil
and a good pinch of sea salt, rubbing into any edges of leaves that don’t
get coated during the stirring by coating with your fingers.

Place in a glass baking dish or on a griddle, making sure leaves
are separated. You’ll need two glass baking dishes. On the griddle,
cook leaves in batches. Turn leaves every 3-4 minutes, until crispy,
10-12 minutes. Set aside.

Peel orange and cut into discs. Set aside.

For the vinaigrette, sauté the garlic and walnuts in the oil over
medium heat until the garlic starts to turn golden. Place in a bowl
and add walnut oil, sherry vinegar and maple syrup.

Whisk and adjust seasoning with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper.

Arrange arugula leaves on serving plates, top with orange slices
and vinaigrette, mounding walnuts in the center. Top with bits of
cheese and serve.

May 24, 2012

Collard greens stuffed with mixed mushrooms

I confess that I’m still distracted by last week’s mushrooms. I love to photograph mushrooms of any stripe – and eat them – so anything that has to follow is at a disadvantage. Big green leaves just aren’t as exciting as something you can mistake for a piece of ocean coral, as another blogger put it.

That’s where I am today. But I can get excited about anything, even collards. They’re lush, yes? And grown right here in the Northwest, so that’s good. At least, that’s what the label on the shelving said in the produce department. But when I got home, I read the label on the giant twist-tie around the stems: “Product of California.” Darn. Sorry for my inattention. But they’ll be harvested from local soil soon enough.

Collards blanch to a zingy green color and keep their shape so making a filling and rolling it up in a neat little packet is, voila!, not so hard and awfully pretty after all. Not as pretty as the oyster mushrooms, mind you, but I’ll take it.

So here’s what I did. I figured I could combine obsession with necessity and include mushrooms again. When I found this recipe over at Smitten Kitchen, I was excited to make it into a hearty veggie meal with mixed mushrooms instead of the requisite ground beef. And, boy, was it good.

I love the bones of this recipe, especially the addition of parsnip to the mirepoix. If you’re making this in real time with me, go ahead and core your parsnip. It was likely harvested late and has been cellared for quite awhile by now so it has a stringy, wood-like core that won’t soften in the sauté pan, something I learned from Denis Cotter in Wild Garlic, Gooseberries…and Me. If you eat parsnips in the fall, right at the beginning of the harvest, you can disregard this advice – the cores will still be tender as a carrot. (As the ellipsis suggests, this is a dreamy cookbook, its author meandering over the English countryside collecting seasonal produce and incorporating into unbelievable sounding dishes such as Cabbage Timbale of Celeriac and Chestnuts with Porcini and Oyster Mushroom Sauce. I received a copy a couple of years ago and it has increased my fresh produce vocabulary – puffball, anyone? –  and expanded our kitchen repertoire.)

Before we jump in and stuff some greens, I’m going to lament the passing of spring with you for a moment. I’ve had these photos saved up to include in a post sometime soon and now I’m finding that the photos I took just a couple of weeks ago are passé: the flowers shown here are now in various states of shriveling. The lilac is past its prime; the bleeding hearts don’t hang so dewy and plump anymore. But anyway they were beautiful and other flowers are blooming so all’s well. And the dandelions’ unabating cycle will be with us until the frost.

Now, back to the collards.

They are one of the scary greens, one I never thought I’d like because of an aversion to produce that’s cooked and cooked until the color seeps into the cooking water. Oh, and tossed with something I no longer eat: bacon. No thanks.

But there’s more than one way to cook a giant leaf. These were tender after blanching in the saltwater and kept their shape and mild flavor, though they lost the bright green color,  after cooking for quite a long time in the tomato sauce  you won’t cook yours as long – see my note below the recipe).

They were a hit three-quarters of the way around our table, a unanimous vote quashed only by my increasingly green-phobic son. Though, for the record, he will now eat a green smoothie if I assure him it is so because it contains kiwi and honeydew – never mind the parsley – and call it, as a friend said she does with her own boys, a Hulk smoothie. Brilliant woman!

Enjoy this one, friends.

Collard greens stuffed with mixed mushrooms

2 bunches collard greens (about 15 large leaves)
1 pound of your favorite fresh mushrooms, chopped fine in a food
processor (do not process so long that it turns into a paste – you may
need to remove and hand chop a few stragglers)
½ oz. dried mushrooms such as maitake, black trumpet or morels,
rehydrated and chopped
2 cloves garlic, smashed flat and minced
1 medium onion, small dice
2 tablespoons olive or grapeseed oil
1 carrot, shredded
2 celery stalks, thinly sliced
1 parsnip, cored and shredded
1 cup cooked brown rice or ½ cup uncooked white rice (see *)
1 to 2 T tomato paste
3 to 4 c tomato sauce or tomato juice

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Prepare a large bowl of ice
water and place near the stove top.

Wash and stem collards and blanch in batches in the boiling water for 2
minutes. Remove and immediately plunge into the ice water. When cooled,
remove to a plate and set aside.

Heat the oil in a sauté pan or pot. Cook the onions until they are soft then
add the carrot, celery and parsnip and sauté until slightly softened. Add fresh
mushrooms and several grindings of salt. Sauté until mushrooms have reduced.

Add rehydrated dried mushrooms and cook for another few minutes.

Push ingredients to one side, add a small pool of oil to the empty side of
the pan and sauté garlic in the oil for 30 seconds, until fragrant. Stir to
incorporate with the other ingredients and season with more salt and pepper.
Transfer the mixture to a bowl to let it cool a bit. Mix in the rice and tomato
paste. Taste and adjust seasonings.

Dry a collard leaf and place on a work surface. Cut out the thickest part of the
vein and pull the ends together to overlap at the bottom. Roll about ¼ to ⅓ cup
of filling in each leaf (depending on the size of your leaf) and arrange in a large,
wide pot, layering if necessary. Pour in enough sauce or juice to cover the rolls.

Bring to a boil and reduce the heat, letting them simmer covered on the
stove on low for about 45 minutes.*

Serve immediately. If sauce has thinned a bit, you can heat up any additional
sauce you didn’t use and pour it over as you serve the rolls.

*If you’re using uncooked white rice, you’ll need about this much time to ensure
the rice cooks. I used uncooked brown rice and ended up simmering the rolls
for over an hour and a half before the rice was done. If you opt for uncooked rice,
especially brown, be sure you have plenty of sauce (I didn’t) to keep them hydrated
and less prone to burning. If you use cooked rice, you’ll just need to cook enough
to heat through, for 20-30 minutes.

May 17, 2012

Spinach salad with roasted oyster mushrooms


For some reason I forget to roast vegetables. How simple it is to toss them with oil, spread in a shallow pan and bake for 20-30 minutes. How can I complain of being short on time? When I roasted these oyster mushrooms, not only did I get to eat a big bowl of this salad but our kitchen held onto the rich aroma for the rest of the day.

There are other enjoyable things I forget to do. Like redeeming that gift certificate for a one-hour massage and settling in with a good book. Though it’s more accurate to say I neglect reading because I don’t have time. Which is true, of course. Except that I do have time to stay up-to-date on Glee and Facebook. Hm.

I was invited to join a book club a couple of years ago and it’s been like a miracle. It sounds like I’m overstating but my youngest was around three and I was just starting to breathe and put my toe in the waves of normal adulthood again. Navigating my way back to things I enjoy doing felt impossible. Worried that I would never finish the books, I hedged a bit when I was asked but soon found it to be a delightful excuse and the perfect form of accountability. Monthly conversations over wine and good food with a savvy, deep, funny group of multi-generational women? Now that’s an incentive to read.

I usually manage to finish the novels and nonfiction works we pick each month, but on the desk in my room there’s a growing stack of food books I can’t seem to crack. They look wonderful. Important, even. But I don’t forgo the latest episode or turn off Firefox a few minutes early in order to sit down, open one up to the first chapter and indulge.

Enter this post by one of my favorite food writers, Tara Austen Weaver. What is she doing to help her make more time to read? She’s starting a food-themed book club with her readers! Isn’t that brilliant? I can’t say I’ll join in every month, but I’m reading the first book, Diana Abu-Jaber’s The Language of Baklava, and planning to chime in. With the light staying later and a few stray warm days, I see myself settling in on our front porch, breathing in fresh air, spring lilac and the written word.


Spinach Salad with Roasted Oyster Mushrooms
based on this recipe from Edible Austin

½ pound oyster mushrooms
2 T olive oil (plus extra for tossing)
1 T sherry vinegar
½ t brown mustard
1 t tahini
sea salt and pepper to taste
spinach leaves, chiffonade
shavings of semi-hard farmstead cheese

Preheat oven to 400°.  Slice oyster mushrooms into large, thick slices. Toss with a drizzle of olive oil, season with salt and lay out on a metal baking sheet. Shake the pan from side to side until slices are mostly not overlapping. Roast in oven until brown and crisp, turning and tossing the mushrooms occasionally, about 20 minutes.

Combine vinegar, olive oil, mustard and tahini in a bowl and season to taste. Add spinach, mushrooms and any accumulated oil or juices from roasting pan.

Divide among serving plates and scatter shaved cheese on top. Pair with something from your current reading list and enjoy!

May 10, 2012

Asparagus and hollandaise

Sometimes I do a little research for these posts. I find out about a vegetable’s history. I look up whether or not a particular fruit is present in literature or has perhaps has a poem named after it. Then I go to the USDA’s Nutrient Data Laboratory and look up the nutrient values for, say, 100 grams of cantaloupe or a bunch of spinach.

This information interests me unfailingly. I care about this stuff. And it’s a nice challenge to figure out if I can make dry information engaging for readers in something like a blog post.

But I’m not always successful because it doesn’t make sense to me unfailingly, at least not the nutritional values. I’m not a dietitian so the numbers on those charts of minerals and vitamins may not mean what I think they mean. If a raw vegetable has 202 mg of potassium per 100 gram serving, for example, does that mean it’s high in potassium? It appears so, if the same vegetable has only 14 mg of magnesium, 24 mg of calcium and 2.14 mg of iron, like the data laboratory tells me asparagus does. But I don’t have a degree in this arena so I don’t really know, do I?

And you, as the reader? Do you really care? Don’t you care more what asparagus tastes like? Would you boost your potassium intake by eating asparagus if you didn’t like it? I think you’d eat a banana instead. Or pop a multivitamin.

I’m going with this train of thought because I read this post the other day and had to laugh. I default to reporting nutrient values in my food writing because I think it’s what people want to know or is at least very important information. But the post’s author, food writer Cheryl Sternman Rule, thinks otherwise. She calls out the “two extremes” in food reporting: “one that’s overly detailed, another that strains credulity.” And I have to agree. Why does the conversation see-saw between how your skin will glow (or you’ll lose – once and for all! – those last 15 pounds) if you eat such-and-such and how much thiamin or selenium is in a serving of whatever?

I don’t like asparagus because of its laundry list of body-boosting nutrients. I like it because it tastes grassy and crisp when it’s cooked until it turns a saturated green. It’s good just like that and pretty, too. And the plant is a perennial, which means I dream about planting some if I ever live somewhere with an expansive, sunny backyard. Not that I’m complaining about our Japanese-style landscaping out back. The contained landscaping, decks and water features provide us with serene harbors for dreams of other sorts.

My connection to food is personal and I suspect the same is true for you. So forgive me if I tuck nutrient values into a post now and again. It’s a habit and one I’ll get over as soon as I take a bite.

So for today we’re going with something simple. Steam some trimmed asparagus spears. Top with hollandaise sauce (Chie referred me to this recipe, which worked beautifully). Dust paprika on top and enjoy before the season runs out in June.

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