Posts tagged ‘Fennel’

March 28, 2013

Fillo triangles with Lady Alice apple compote

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I was sure the Lady Alice apples in the bin were heirlooms. I’d never heard of the red and banana-yellow apple with the well-heeled name before. The card above it said they’re good for eating out of hand and prime for cooking, too. Just as well. I love having a store of versatile cellar fruits around. When I got home I settled them in a mesh bag in the vegetable drawer to keep them separated from the Fujis, and the Fuji eaters.

Yesterday I pulled them from beneath a bag filled with parsley and mint and did a quick search online.

Lady Alice, as it turns out, is something of a toddler in the apple world. To thousands of years of apple cultivation, she has about twenty-five; she is to the world of apples akin to what humans are to the history of Earth (if you’ll excuse an unsound analogy).

The Lady Alices are held back for several months after harvest because their flavor improves in storage. That’s why I saw them only last week, and why they’ll disappear again in awhile, like any seasonal produce.

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February 14, 2013

Sauerkraut, revision 2

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In his book On Writing, Stephen King throws this out:

“On the other hand…there is Harper Lee, who wrote only one book (the brilliant To Kill a Mockingbird). Any number of others, including James Agee, Malcolm Lowry, and Thomas Harris (so far), wrote under five. Which is okay, but I always wonder two things about these folks: how long did it take them to write the books they did write, and what did they do the rest of their time? Knit afghans? Organize church bazaars? Deify plums? I’m probably being snotty here, but I am also, believe me, honestly curious. If God gives you something you can do, why in God’s name wouldn’t you do it?” (p. 147)

I’m not sure you can appreciate, without reading King’s quote in context, how funny this came off. Funny and dead on. Sure, he sounds flip. But I believe him. The author of (now) over 50 books and more than 200 short stories is having a hard time understanding what the holdup could possibly be.

He’s right, of course. He questions them as a means of questioning us. What are you, writer, doing with your time?

December 15, 2011

Brown rice risotto with chanterelles

Today we start a series on mushrooms. Not because we don’t like holiday foods but because there are still local foods to be had and we just can’t pass up fresh fungi. This may mark the end of our über-local focus for awhile. After the first of the year we’ll have to go regional and get creative.

Reading about chanterelles, which are likely in their last weeks of harvest, I noticed that they contain some of the richest levels of vitamin D of any food. Isn’t that perfect? We northerners need vitamin D this dark time of year and here it is, growing in the woods. And in a form we clamor to eat. The ground giveth when the sky taketh away. And not only are they full of edible sunshine but potassium and vitamin C.

Despite the too-early sunsets, we’ve had weeks of cold, sunny weather and Colorado skies. The kids still play on the school playground after school. The leaves aren’t yet beat into the lawn by the rain. It’s glorious. Still, my kids are jonesing for snow.

I prefer the frost and bright air. While I was waiting for the risotto to cook, I stepped into our backyard to take a few photos. It was mid-morning and the frost was still coating the twigs of the Japanese maple. The ice on our pond was surreal, stretched over the rocks like Saran Wrap. This is just enough winter for me.

You notice I said I was waiting for the risotto to cook. Chie notes below that risotto requires continual attention. Here’s my confession and tip for you: I’ve never made risotto the traditional way. At a cooking class years ago I asked the instructor if a pressure cooker would be worth buying since I’m vegetarian. He lit up, “Beans!” he said, “they cook in minutes. And risotto! Here, you have to buy this cookbook,” and scribbled the title on a piece of paper.

He was right. Once we bought a pressure cooker, we started making risotto once a week. The classic Arborio rice cooks in six minutes once it’s up to pressure. This brown rice risotto cooked in 20 minutes plus a few additional minutes without the lid, to steam off a little extra liquid.

If you have time, make it as below. I imagine you’ll have more control over the texture. But if you have a pressure cooker, give it a try for a quick meal sometime and take a few minutes while it’s cooking to step outside or to prepare accompaniments for this warm, comforting meal.

Brown Rice Risotto with Chanterelles
by Chie

When I worked at Carmelita, mushroom mongers would show us their foragings
during the spring and fall. We would sauté them and serve as a side dish with polenta or risotto.
Similarly, The chanterelles at the Olympia Food Co-op come from foragers in the Olympia area.

This dish is inspired by the risotto that I learned to make at Carmelita. This would be a good dinner
for the weekend or a night when you can leisurely make a meal: the stirring is a process.
It’s well worth it; the rich creaminess you attain is delicious!

A green salad with a light vinaigrette and a brothy soup will make this a hearty autumn meal.

For the mushrooms
½ lb chanterelles
1 medium shallot, medium dice
3 cloves garlic, minced
5 sprigs thyme
1 T ghee or coconut oil
Celtic sea salt

For the risotto
1 ½ c Golden Rose medium-grain brown rice
or short-grain brown rice**
½ c sweet glutinous brown rice
5 c mushroom, vegetable, chicken broth, or bone broth
1 ½ T ghee or oil
½ medium yellow onion, small dice
1 stalk celery, small dice (optional)
⅓ bulb fennel bulb, small dice (optional)
2 cloves garlic, minced
¼ c white wine or sake
2 cups kale, chopped
⅓ bunch Italian parsley, chopped
pecorino romano cheese, grated for garnish

5 servings

**Arborio rice is traditionally used for making risotto. I like using these because they are whole grain and have more fiber and nutrients.

Soak the rice for about an hour or up to overnight. Wash and drain in a fine mesh colander.
Heat the stock in a small pot so it will be the same temperature as the risotto.

Brush the pine needles and dirt off of the mushrooms with a towel or kitchen brush.
Mushrooms in general are like sponges when they come in contact with water so I don’t like to
wash them unless they really need a bath. If you do need to wash them, set them on a towel to dry
before cooking. The bottom of the stems may need to be trimmed a little. If large, cut into bite-sized pieces.

Heat the ghee in a medium cast iron pan. When it starts to shimmer, add the clean, dry chanterelles.
Do not stir initially since we want a sear. When the juices cook off, add shallots, garlic, thyme leaves
and salt and finish sautéeing. It may take a couple of batches to sauté all the mushrooms.
You don’t want to overcrowd the pan or they will steam and get mushy.

In a wide, heavy-bottomed pot, sauté the onion until fragrant. Add garlic and the fennel and celery, if using.
Sauté for several minutes.

Add the well-drained rice and stir to coat with the ghee or oil. When heated through, deglaze with
white wine or sake. Cook off the alcohol by stirring it and letting the steam out. When the rice starts to
look dry, add 2 ladlefuls of hot broth. Stir the rice with a wooden spoon over medium heat. When most of the
broth is absorbed, add another ladle. Repeat until the rice holds its shape, but is cooked through.
It is desirable to have some texture so cook to al dente, just as with pasta, but enough so it will digest.
Cook and taste as you go.

This process takes 30 minutes or so. Put on some music, have a glass of your favorite beverage and stir away!

Once your desired texture is reached, add the chopped kale.
Cook for just a few minutes then stir in the parsley and thyme. Adjust with salt.

Serve in individual bowls, top with the sautéed mushrooms and grated pecorino. Enjoy!

September 22, 2011

Fennel into fall

Who would have thought she’d leave so gently? Summer is sashaying away, the flirt, giving us a wink over her shoulder. It looks like we’ll step over Fall’s threshold tomorrow with the strings of our sunhats still caught in her screen door.

With our faces still lifted to the sky (sometimes, that morning mist has been stubborn) it’s a good time to talk about fennel. After all, Prometheus used a stalk of it to steal fire from the sun. Just like us: skimming along on some contraband rays.

Soon every day will be like it was on Monday. I was indulging in a rare five-hour writing day. It was a good, overcast day for something like that. When I shuffled into the kitchen around noon, I was pleased to see that it was sunny outside. Really sunny. So I thought I’d take a bona fide lunch break and eat out on the deck before heading back up to my desk.

Silly me. Fall is fickle and will have none of my plans. By the time the peach and zucchini were sliced and the hummus in a dish, the sun had gone back behind the clouds. Ah, well.

The change of season doesn’t have to be accompanied by a sigh of regret (though this year, for some reason it’s harder for me than usual). We get to engage in those swooning sorts of sighs that come with the discovery of a new apple variety or the first winter squash of the season. Baskets of Washington-grown apples, from this year, are starting to appear at the food co-op. Soon I’ll get to pick our neighbor’s apples and turn them into sauce. And I’m already testing pears at the market, trying to gauge how many days it will be until they’re perfectly ripe.

But fruits aren’t the only new arrivals. There are crates of quiet, helpful vegetables on display. The staples. Potatoes, onions, garlic. And these layered, elliptical roots that are making their way into my kitchen more and more every year. These fire scepter anchors.

Fennel bulbs.

A few years ago, when I started receiving them in our weekly box, I didn’t really know what to do. I’m not a big fan of anise, and fennel’s flavor, though milder, is in the same family. I fretted over them as they grew rubbery in the bottom drawer of the fridge then shrugged my guilty shoulders as I slipped the too-far-gone ones into the compost bin.

Then I read that you can think of your fennel bulb as a substitute for an onion. Da-ding!

Now I look forward to having them around so I can slice and sauté them with garlic for a soup base. It gives the soup a faint licorice undertone that’s more comforting than I thought it would be.

Chie tells me she likes them best grated or sliced raw, which is how you’ll find them in this lovely salad.

It may be the beginning of fall, but we don’t have to give up on fresh local salads just yet.

Late Summer Salad
by Chie

This sweet, fragrant root adds a nice touch to so many dishes. It can be roasted, braised, grilled, sliced or
grated raw into salads or stewed in soups. Here is a light and simple salad that brings out each flavor:
nutty arugula, fragrant and crunchy fennel, juicy pear.

 1-2 bunches arugula, washed, dried and stemmed
1 fennel bulb, sliced thin
1 pear (Bartlet, Star Crimson, Orca, Comice), sliced thin
Pecorino Romano, shaved
1-2 lemons
extra virgin olive oil
sea salt
freshly ground black pepper

Toss the arugula and fennel in a medium bowl with the lemon juice, extra virgin olive oil, salt and pepper.

Arrange on salad plates.

Slice pears and arrange on top of the greens and fennel. For extra flair, grill pear halves and slice before adding.
When choosing pears, make sure they’re soft when gentle pressure is applied.
Try Star Krimson and Bartlet. Both are grown by Brownfield Orchards and are available at the Co-op.

Add a few slices of shaved Pecorino to each plate and indulge.

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