M. came up for dinner the other night, and there was a lot of talk (or, rather, gchat) beforehand regarding what exactly we would make. She has different points of reference than I do in the kitchen, and always seems comfortable just winging it. I’m happy to throw together random things in a pot when I’m the only one eating dinner at the end of the process, but if there are guests–even guests like M, whom I have known since birth–I usually want to be more by-the-book.* But wing it we did, and with fine results.
Tag Archives: swiss chard
Kimchi Tacos
I don't have photos of the cooking process here, because I honestly didn't think it would turn out well enough to want to share with anyone. Swiss chard, Great Northern beans, my untested homemade kimchi, and some month-old corn tortillas. This was one of those dinners where I was very glad I wasn't feeding anyone else, because it seemed like such a potential disaster. But it was Monday night, and the week's delivery had just arrived, and I needed to use up last week's chard to make room in the fridge. I'd cooked up a pot of white beans the day before, and I had (have) this massive tub of kimchi, and a bag of corn tortillas that were leftover from C.'s birthday dinner (fish tacos & salmorejo). And a quarter of an avocado. "How bad could it be?" I thought to myself. "I mean, it could be terrible, but I'll be the only one who knows. And I can always just have a salad if it's totally inedible."
Tamarind
Like many recipes from everyone’s favorite Cordon Bleu-trained London-based Israeli chef, there are some unusual ingredient combinations. And it’s not a “let’s throw everything in a pot and see what happens” kind of stew, either. I suspect that it could work with that technique (one of my favorites) but I decided for this maiden voyage, I’d stick to the playbook. Mostly.
So I blanched and drained some Swiss chard.And I sauteed some onions with caraway seeds.
I may have forgotten to add the tomato paste to cook before the chickpeas, canned tomatoes, and spices, but I don’t think any serious harm was done. I also realized that whatever the form of the tamarind in my fridge it was not the same as what Ottolenghi is asking for. Mine is thickly runny, a bit like pomegranate molasses. But after searching around online a little, I made a somewhat-educated guess and swapped in about 2 teaspoons of the concentrate for the 4 tablespoons of watered down pulp.
And then I let it simmer while I made some rice (short grain, like I was told to do).
To serve, spoon the stew over the rice and top with a big spoonful of Greek yogurt, a drizzle of good olive oil, and a pile of chopped cilantro.
It is rather tart (thanks to the tomatoes and the tamarind) but with a good amount of sweetness, and then the occasional zip of a caraway seed. And it is delicious. I should probably find some other recipes that call for tamarind, because I have a lot of it now, but I might just wind up making this weekly until it’s all gone.
Have you lived?
I don’t think you have lived. Until you have tried this Swiss chard recipe, I don’t think you have lived. Yes, that’s right, in the photo below, the slightly over-exposed, flash-heavy, un-color-corrected photo of my dinner, the most exciting thing on the plate is that messy mush of dark green on the right side.
More exciting than lamb chops? More exciting than potatoes (or anything, really) with pesto?! Yes. Trust me. Even when I tell you it’s vegan. Just trust me. Serve it with lamb chops to make up for that. Serve it with anything. It is my new favorite thing in the world and I fully plan to make huge batches of it and freeze it so I can always have it on hand.
Here is a close-up:Not much to look at, but if you could see her like I do…
Here is what you need to do (thanks, again, to Deborah Madison): Take a bunch of chard and separate the leaves and the stems. Cut the leaves into ribbons and the stems into a coarse dice. Dice a small onion, mash up a clove of garlic with some salt, and dump it all in a big pot with some olive oil, a little bit of water, a big handful of cilantro, a teaspoon of paprika, and a few grinds of black pepper. Stir it all up. Put the heat on low. Put a lid on it. Let the magic happen. Come back in 45 minutes (and maybe stir it once or twice in the interim). That’s it. There’s no butter, no chicken stock, no parmesan. I cannot explain the depth of flavor in this dish knowing what goes in. It is making me completely rethink my stance on cooking vegetables for long periods of time. The also-rans from the dinner in question: Savory Mint Lamb Chops with window-box mint Potato salad with pesto and green beans, a now favorite inspired by Smitten Kitchen It was a very herb-heavy meal, and I was worried there’d be some conflicting flavors, but it was delicious. There’s no chard coming this week, but there is kale, and turnip greens, and it’s a 50/50 shot that I’m going to try the same recipe with one or both of those.Mole Is Never Ready for Its Close-Up
My friend S. discovered, probably before anyone else did, that all you have to do to get me to cook for you is send me a link to a good food blog with pretty pictures and say “mmmm…” I think the deciding factor in that case was an apple cake recipe from 101 Cookbooks, which served the secondary purpose of introducing me to a great recipe source. Sometime last fall, I adapted her recipe for Borlotti Bean Mole with Roast Winter Squash, which I made again this week. I can’t say it’s a very pretty meal, and I also can’t say how authentic this version is, but I can say that it is worth the time it takes to prepare.
Mole is that rare food that I love and am capable of making but yet am never confident in preparing. It is such an odd combination of ingredients that I never trust they will all meld together into the rich, spicy, theobromic goodness that I love so much. But this version is a good ‘un, a keeper if you will, and it’s what I made last night. The thing I forgot from making it the first time is that it takes a loooong time to make. Not difficult work, but this is not really designed to be a weeknight dinner. Start with some winter squash (delicata here), or alternately sweet potato, in bite-sized cubes. Roast in olive oil until it’s just barely tender.You’ll also need some chard (kale works, too). Not a whole bunch, though.
While the squash is cooking, caramelize some onion and hot peppers in butter. This takes time, at least 20 minutes, ideally 30, over medium-low heat. I generally do not caramelize onions, ever, because I don’t have the patience for it, as much as I like the flavor.
Add some minced garlic, then a can of tomatoes and some paprika, and simmer 10-15 minutes.
Then here is where it gets weird. Or not weird. It’s just how you make a mole. Add almond butter and cocoa powder, and stir it up to sort of let it all melt in.
Then in goes that squash you roasted, plus a couple of cups of pinto beans (or cranberry beans), and the chard leaves, cut into wide strips. Stir it up, cover, and stick it in the oven for a good 2 hours at 250F. You can get away with less time if you omit the stems of the chard, but the longer the better, really.
Meanwhile, since you don’t have anything better to do, and you’re not eating for 2 hours anyway, cook up a pot of polenta. If you’re feeling ambitious, pour it into a baking dish and let it set up so you can cut it into funny shapes. (Round is funny, right?)Then, 2 hours later, here comes the mole!
Serve on top of the polenta.
It is a singularly unattractive dish. It looks like any number of things you don’t ever want to think about eating, and since you know what went in it, it’s understandable if you’re hesitant. But give it a go. It’s very rich, very hearty, and delicious.
Return of the Prodigal Daughter
Let me start by saying that there is no cheese in this dish. You read that correctly. This is an egg dish that contains no cheese whatsoever, and yet it is delicious. I didn’t think that was possible.
Now that that’s out of the way–E. has returned to the city! Hooray! I had this whole lovely post written out, about adapting this recipe from Bon Appétit, which I first saw on Smitten Kitchen and then Blogger decided that it was going to log me out and make me sign in again, and the draft saving hadn’t worked. So it’s gone and I just do not have the patience to re-write it all. So here’s the short version of my adaptation: Eggs and mix of heavy cream + milk, seasoned. Savory semi-whole-wheat version of Martha Stewart’s pate brisee.2 leeks + diced chard stems, cooked in butter with summer savory. Then add chard leaves.
Mix cooled veggies into the eggy bowl, and pour it into the pie plate.
Wonder idly why your camera started adding these funny streaks to some photos.
Bake at 425F for 15 minutes, then lower the heat to 350F for another 15.
Done and done.
E. and I both had two helpings, and then went through her GRE flashcards. It turns out I’ve been misusing the word “nonplussed” my entire life.
Things I Never Ate as a Child
Growing up, we did not eat eggplant. I think my dad didn’t like it, and much like my mom’s distaste for beans, that preference was one of the deciding factors of our dinner menu. Then there were the foods that just didn’t cross anyone’s minds to cook, like Swiss chard. As an adult, I’ve explored the produce panorama pretty extensively, and discovered that I really love a lot of these things. In searching for a vegetarian lasagne recipe earlier this year, for example, I found one from Deborah Madison that is made with Swiss chard and eggplant, and it is absolutely delicious. Her note in the margin of the cookbook talks about how that particular combination brings out a synergistic depth of flavor in the dish, and I couldn’t agree more.
This week’s delivery included a couple of eggplants and a big bunch of chard. But it’s July. And it might well be unseasonably cool in New York City, but I’m not making lasagne. (I already baked zucchini bread today, this time with cashews and cocoa nibs, and that was quite enough use of the oven, thank you very much.) So I decided to adapt a recipe I found on Not Eating Out in New York. First, though, a cucumber salad. This is something I ate a LOT of as a kid, because I didn’t care for lettuce, and it was an easy way for my mom to get some raw vegetables into my stomach. Our family recipe was impossibly simple–peeled cukes sliced thin on a mandoline, tossed with olive oil, red wine vinegar, a little salt and sugar, and sometimes some chopped tomato. Tonight I got fancy.I had 2 slicing cucumbers, and 2 heirlooms of a variety called Boothby blonde. I took one of each.
Many recipes advise that you remove the seeds from your cucumbers (a spoon works well), but personally, I like the flavor with the seeds. So they stayed.
The recipe was another from David Tanis’s A Platter of Figs, and it might not have been a culinary match for the eggplant dish I was planning, but it sounded good. Mix the cuke slices with some julienned ginger, a little salt and pepper, some fish sauce, and some brown sugar. Let it sit while you dice up a hot pepper of your choosing (this is a Holland chile).
Toss in the pepper and squeeze over some lime juice.
Then cover and stick in the fridge until dinner is ready. In my experience, cucumber salad tastes better the longer you let it marinate. When you’re ready to serve it, toss in some chopped mint and basil and scallions.
And now, moving on to the real thing. And let me tell you, this is a recipe that’s going in the permanent repertoire. It’s one of those meals where I had to force myself to put the leftovers away before I served myself a third plate.
Start off with some eggplant. Any variety will do, though not the little baby ones.Slice them about 1/2″ thick, sprinkle some salt over them, and let them sit a bit while you mix up the breadcrumbs.
I suppose you could use pre-seasoned breadcrumbs, but where’s the fun in that? So mix together some plain breadcrumbs with salt, pepper, and some chopped fresh herbs–thyme and savory worked beautifully, but rosemary would be great, and probably oregano, too. Or parsley. Hard to go wrong, really.
Cook the slices in olive oil, not much more than a minute each side. (I won’t admit how much olive oil I went through tonight, although I will say that I’m glad I hunted for regular as opposed to extra virgin. The smoke point is much higher.)
Set the eggplant aside and turn to the chard. You could do this step first, but that involves thinking ahead. Separate the stems from the leaves, and dice the stems as finely as you have patience to do.
Chop the leaves very roughly.
Cook the stem bits for a few minutes, and then add some sliced garlic cloves and white beans.
Once they chard is mostly tender and the beans are warmed through, add the leaves, stir, and cover. Stir a couple more times over the course of a few minutes, and you’re ready to go. The original recipe called for chopping up some capers and some sundried tomatoes as a garnish, which is perfectly nice but almost unnecessary.
In retrospect, a spicy Asian cucumber salad with a breaded Italian dish pairing is not the most, um, cohesive pairing. But both were delicious.
Eggplant Schnitzel with Swiss Chard and White Beans
2 eggplants (about 1 lb), sliced lengthwise, 1/2″ thick
3/4 cup breadcrumbs
1 tsp chopped fresh herbs (e.g. thyme, rosemary, oregano, savory, parsley)
1/2 tsp salt
pepper to taste
1 bunch Swiss chard, about 3/4 lb, leaves chopped coarsely, stems diced
2 c white beans
2 cloves garlic, sliced
1-2 teaspoons finely chopped sundried tomatoes
1 teaspoon capers, coarsely chopped
lots of olive oil
Dinner with More Friends
So one of the wonderful things I’ve already discovered about doing this CSA is that it is a great lure to get people to trek up to the Upper East Side. “Hey, want to come uptown? I’ll make you dinner–I have a fridge full of fresh, organic vegetables that need to be eaten!” There are many people who will happily accept such an invitation. So it’s proving to be very good at helping me fight my anti-social tendencies.
Tonight’s dinner was with some friends who are all former co-workers of mine, A., G., and K. The menu was a simple one, inspired by a recent New York Times Recipe for Health, specifically their Provencal Zucchini and Swiss Chard Tart. Mine is a bit different, partly because who has the patience to make a yeast crust that needs to rise, and partly because A. had the brilliant idea that we should double the cheese.
I actually got started on this Monday night, blanching and dicing up the chard, so I saved a little time, but it’s still not bad as a weeknight dinner. So the chard is technically step 1, making this step 2, sauteing things in a pan:And step 3, baking:
I think I will start referring to things as being “easy as quiche.”
My food photography still needs some serious work, though. I served the quiche with the aforementioned oregano pseudo-focaccia, and a green salad with herbs. The carrot ginger dressing was much more appealing than it looks here, I promise:Summer Squash and Swiss Chard Crustless Quiche
adapted from the New York Times
1 lb. summer squash, diced
olive oil
1 red onion, diced
2 garlic scapes, chopped
3 garlic cloves, minced
fresh herbs, chopped (e.g. parsley, chives, oregano)
salt & pepper to taste
4 oz. Emmenthaler, grated
4 large eggs
butter and grated parmesan to line pie pan Preheat oven to 375F. Heat oil in pan over medium heat. Add onion and chard stems. Cook until soft. Add squash and garlic scapes, and cook until tender. Add garlic and fresh herbs, and cook briefly. Stir in chard leaves and remove from heat. Season with salt & pepper. Beat eggs in a large bowl. Mix in vegetables and cheese. Prepare pie pan by buttering the whole thing and sprinkling it liberally with grated parmesan. Pour egg mixture into pie pan and bake for about 30 minutes, until set and just barely browned. Let cool briefly before slicing. Serves 4 respectably hungry people with a little leftover for lunch.
Catching up — weeks #1-3
Lemon Balm (week #2) Syrup
1 1/2 c. water
1 1/2 c. sugar
1 bunch lemon balm
4-5 Tbsp. vodka mix over ice. pour into chilled glass. serve with a lemon twist. garlic scapes (weeks #2 & #3)
White Bean and Garlic Scapes Dip
courtesy of the New York Times
Penne with Bright Lights Swiss Chard (week #3), Garlic, and White Beans Summer Spinach (weeks #2 and #3) with Chickpeascourtesy of Madhur Jaffrey in Saveur
cool collapsible tupperware courtesy of my sister, Lindsay