What’s in the Box – week #15

Potatoes-2 pounds

Carrots-1 bunch

Spinach-1 bunch

Parsley-1 bunch

Winter Squash-Delicata-1

Shallots-2

Peppers-5

Eggplant-1

and remaining from last week:
half the bunch of chard
a potato
probably a pound of beets
4 peppers

I am definitely making my variation on the Borlotti Bean Mole with Roast Winter Squash from 101 Cookbooks. Mine will be with chard, not kale, pinto beans, almond butter (not ground almonds) and cocoa powder (not baking chocolate).

Then something with the spinach and potatoes together. this Indian recipe sounds good.

And Deborah Madison has a pasta recipe with peppers and parsley that sounds simple and good.

Meanwhile, here’s tonight’s almost-no-effort dinner–pasta with the pesto I’ve sort of been hoarding, and leftover beets a la Monica Bhide (roasted with coriander and dressed with a very simple yogurt-ginger dressing).

I didn’t do any color correct on this photo, but if I had you wouldn’t believe the color anyway. It is shocking to me that natural food (organic, even) can come in such a color.

Winging It

K. and A. came over for dinner Monday night. I know that conventional wisdom dictates against trying out new recipes when you have guests, but I’m not a terribly conventional person.

Our first course (not pictured) was cold borscht, from A Platter of Figs, seasoned with cloves, coriander, bay leaf, and cayenne, and then finished with yogurt. I had never made borscht before (not entirely sure I’d even eaten it before), but I trust David Tanis kind of inherently by now. The beets I had were chioggas, which have the benefit of not staining everything in sight purple, an especially useful trait when they need to go in the blender. But the soup winds up not being the striking deep red that it would otherwise be. And I didn’t get the garlic chives I wanted to sprinkle on top. Hence no photo.

Our second course was stuffed peppers. In this case, not only is it a dish I hadn’t made, but I was flying without a proverbial net. I had those gorgeous purple peppers to start with, and then I basically looked in my fridge, freezer, and pantry, and tossed a bunch of stuff together. The stuffing I wound up with was royal quinoa and white northern beans, with a little onion, a hot pepper, grated parmesan, and summer savory.

Then for dessert, I followed Gourmet‘s recipe for plum clafoutis. This is one where I just suddenly decided on Monday that clafoutis was a great word, and that I absolutely had to make it. I thought it was going to be apricot but when I got to the greenmarket at lunch, I inferred that apricot season is over, but plum season is at its peak. So I got a couple of pounds of what are called Italian prune plums. I subbed in sweet Marsala for the brandy, and halved the plums rather than cutting them in eighths. But I think I can say that it was a total success.

I think I’ve accidentally memorized the recipe for clafoutis, which is only bad because I can see myself making it all the time. Which would maybe not be a bad thing…

Stuffed Peppers

5-6 bell peppers
1 c. quinoa
2 c. cooked white beans
1/2 onion, diced
1 hot pepper, minced
1 Tbsp summer savory, minced (alternately, 1 tsp. thyme)
2 Tbsp grated parmesan
olive oil
salt

Rinse the quinoa, and put it in a hot sauce pan over medium heat. Stir until the grains are almost dry and smell slightly nutty. Pour 2 1/2 c. water on top, add 1/2 tsp salt, and bring to a boil. Lower the heat and simmer for 20 minutes. Check to see that it’s cooked through, and drain off any excess water.

Meanwhile, cut out the stems and cores of the peppers. Place in a baking dish and roast at 375F for 10-15 minutes.

Pour a little olive oil in a hot sauce pan (you can use the same one the quinoa cooked in if you’ve already drained the grains) and add the onion and hot pepper. Cook for a few minutes, until the onions are starting to brown, then add the beans and the fresh herbs. Stir until the beans are heated through, then turn off the heat. Mix in the quinoa and the grated parmesan. Taste for seasoning, and add more olive oil if it seems dry.

Spoon this mixture into the par-baked peppers, and stick them back into the oven for 20 minutes.

The Accidental Vegan

I am always surprised when I look down at my plate and I’ve made something vegan. My standard assessment of veganism is that I don’t believe in it, the same way that Mormons don’t believe in homosexuality. But just because you don’t believe in something doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Last night’s dinner, for example, the one I cooked while my little nephew in Durango cheered me on, contained absolutely no animal products. If I’d realized it at the time, I probably would have grated some parmesan on top, or cooked the veggies in some lard instead of oil. (No, that’s silly, the smoke point would be too high…) [addendum: I remembered later that I mixed in some fish sauce with the pasta dish, in lieu of a couple of anchovies. Not vegan. Whew.]

Anyway. Tonight’s dinner came very close to falling into the same trap, but was saved by honey.

Tonight, J. came over, for what is bound to be one of our last dinner-and-Alias nights, as she has made the decision to move to Washington, D.C. I hope we’ll have a bunch more dinners before the move, at least enough to finish watching season 1…

Our first course was Japanese Spinach with Sesame Dressing which is definitely one for the recipe box. (not an actual box) We subbed in mirin for saki because, guess what? That’s what I had. And it was delish.

Then, in an effort to make a dent in the stash of beets in my fridge, we did a version of Gingered Millet with Roasted Beets that also turned out pretty well, I think, and definitely increased my confidence in the beet-cooking department. I confess that I frequently buy those little French imported pouches of roasted, peeled baby beets, because cooking them is so daunting. I once tried to boil some and accidentally let the water boil off and almost ruined the pan. And gave myself a steam burn.

But thanks to this recipe, I now have better technique. It also helps to start with smallish beets. Scrub them, but leave on the tail and just the very end of the stems, and stick them in a baking dish with some water and a bit of salt. Then cover it up with parchment and a layer of foil (honestly not sure why both are necessary, but I’m not going to mess with something that works) and bake until they’re tender.

These were chiogga beets, a.k.a. candy-striped beets, which are not as striking as red ace beets but are still very pretty. Especially with wheat berries and yellow cherry tomatoes, and fresh basil and mint. The dressing has red wine vinegar, ginger, and honey (whew, not vegan).

I think I’m going to need to start planning a farewell dinner party for J. I know she wanted to learn to cook more vegetarian meals, but it’s probably going to involve some meat, because I will always think of her as a carnivore. Suggestions welcome.

Global Cuisine

I have this theory that your ancestry should influence your palate. This is, of course, a load of crap. I am Scottish and Austrian, and I have been scarfing down edamame since I could eat solid foods. Stoneledge made this particular taste a bit easier for me to indulge this week.

Pull ’em off the stalks, rinse thoroughly, and boil for 3 minutes. Then toss with some good quality salt. Consume mass quantities.

(Yeah, I might have overdone it with the salt this time…)

By this estimation, Mediterranean Beet and Yogurt Salad also doesn’t have a place my genealogical kitchen, but it sure is good.

Roast and peel the beets, then marinate in olive oil, vinegar, sugar, & salt.

Remember that beets stain.

Top with a mix of greek yogurt, minced garlic, salt, and chopped dill.

Also remember that when you really mash up some garlic cloves, they get very spicy.

Anyway. Back to my theory.

Since I’m Austrian on one side and Scottish on the other, I should be all over the meat and potatoes, and cabbage, and shortbread. And while it’s true that I love schnitzel, and I will go rather far out of my way to get my lunch at the Hallo Berlin street cart, I have only recently begun to delve into my paternal culinary heritage. I think this is partly because we’re not quite so fresh off the boat on that side, and because there is some weird shit that they eat in Scotland. Shortbread? Check. Cabbage? Check. (ok, that particular cabbage recipe isn’t overly Scottish, but whatever) Haggis? Smoked salmon? Uh, no, really not. Thank you, though. Skirlie? Oh dear lord, yes, absolutely.

Skirlie is another dish that falls under the category of Revelations. It might sound kind of like a disease, but so do a lot of other Scottish dishes. This is one that’s worth trying.

Got some random greens that you don’t know what to do with? Got some rolled oats stashed away in the pantry? Got something in the lily family? Finish it off with an egg or two cracked on top at the end of cooking, and you have yourself dinner.

For starters, you chop up your onion/scallion/shallot, and maybe an herb you’ve got handy (summer savory here).

Saute the scallion (in this case) in some butter/olive oil/ghee–

add in the fresh herbs for a minute–

and then toss in a cup of rolled oats. Stir it all up for a few minutes, until the oats get kind of golden and toasty.

Drizzle in a little water and keep stirring. Add just enough water that the oats soften up a bit.

Then dump in your greens (beet greens here) and stir it all up until the greens are wilted.

I didn’t add in any eggs tonight, but this is where you’d do it–just turn the heat to very low, crack a couple of eggs on top of the skirlie, and stick a lid on it until the eggs are cooked through.

And thus, I reclaim my Scottish heritage.