fire escape salad
21 May 2010 2 Comments
in beans & lentils, greens, recipes, vegan, vegetarian Tags: Brooklyn, catnip, container gardening, cooking, gardens, herbs, home cooking, italian cooking, onion, rosemary, sage, salad, sustainability, thyme
come as you are!
the trouble with writing about salad is that making salad is not really cooking but assembling. Yet, these are essential ensembles. Consider this your salad reminder— salads make a fine meal from a cool kitchen. With global weirding subjecting us at random from this day forth to the heat formally relegated to the official months of summer, the oven’s days are numbered. Even off the shaded garbage courtyard, this Brooklyn apartment kitchen can get hotter than crêpes suzette come summer. Maybe the possibilities of salad make hot weather an ideal time for wooers-not-cookers to court; salad can be high on haute and low on technique. What matters most is the freshness of the goods, and the whole rainbow of plantdom is pretty much a candidate. It goes without saying that salad is really good for you.
this salad thrills because it is composed mostly of bounty off our fire escape, where we’re nurturing a container garden of lettuce and herbs, plus catnip for the miraculous flying cat, the K. Pidds.
the k. pidds
in scavenged tubs, two kinds of lettuce are putting out sails of green and red leaves. After harvesting greens the size of my hand, the still unfurling centers promise more salad to come. I hope to add Tom Thumb and Little Gem. If we add rocket, soon we’ll have mesclun.
authorities claim the key to a gorgeous salad is well-rinsed and gently, thoroughly dried greens. Simple oil and vinegar dressing clings to dry leaf sides. In Unplugged Kitchen, Viana la Place not only feels “a keen excitement” when she sits down to eat a dish of beautiful green leaves, she writes: “Harvesting lettuce leaves in the garden right before supper creates a romantic vision, but it also allows us to derive the full benefits from each ruffled, fragrant leaf.”
a heartfelt Italian cook, Viana delivers 25 recipes for lovely salads, including beloved veggies: purslane, artichokes, beets, and old fashioned potato and nasturium salad. As I nod to her here, she gleefully shares “salade fatigue” by 1960s fashion impresario Simonetta, an Italian in Paris and a Snob in the Kitchen:
many of Simonetta’s salads, including this one, call for the salad to “season” for an hour before serving. For Simonetta, a salad must be fatigué, “tired,” to be good; it must be “mixed, beaten, and drunk with its dressing.”
current food fashions have veered away from greens besotted with dressing but beaten and drunk have a certain camp appeal. She recommends whacking towel wrapped greens against the counter to tenderize them, also a satisfying way to call forth the essential oils in herbs going whole leaf into salad.
fire escape salad
our herb garden includes spicy or Greek basil, a diminutive cousin of the towering Italian type classically paired with fresh sliced tomatoes and creamy mozzarella in mid-summer. Also tiny, forest green peppermint. Lime basil, with slender, petal-thin leaves. Sage that has since been menaced by the weather and lost its leaves but seems to be reviving. Creeping thyme, lots of it, my favorite.
rosemary too, which is now only three branches strong but with care will become a bush and burst forth with fragrant purple blossoms. Those will go in the salad too. Rosemary needles, with the resiny toughness of an evergreen (though it’s a member of the mint family), are better cooked, even for salad. Bringing me off the fire escape and into the pantry for staples that made this salad a meal.
cannellini beans cooked with one healthy branch of our little shrub and a bit of salt and fresh ground pepper. When boiled tender, drain the beans in a colander and toss with a pour of olive oil, salt, fresh pepper and handfuls of fresh herbs. While the beans cook, slice a red onion very fine and soak the shreds in ice water for at least 10 minutes to take the bite out. Marinade in balsamic vinegar, salt and pepper for as long as you like.
in your biggest, best salad bowl, gently combine the beans and onions with your greens, including that succulent lettuce and fresh herbs. Just lift the onions out of their marinade with a fork. Despite Simonetta’s preferences, the vinegar soaked onions and oiled beans will carry plenty of dressing into the salad. Croutons are nice, and grated parmesan. Serve with crusty white bread toasted and sliced, along with a plate of very fine olive oil with a pool of honey in its center, sprinkle with sea salt and a crank of fresh pepper. Trust me.
white beans italiana
11 Feb 2010 1 Comment
in beans & lentils, garlic, recipes, vegan, vegetarian Tags: cooking, family, italian cooking, radical muffins love good food
dear maria,
sorry for the delay in sending the recipe, but I needed to experiment to see how I make white beans. I made herbed white beans with roasted garlic, and I think it will work for you:
Dried beans generally double in size when you soak and cook them, so three cups dried will come out about 6 cups cooked and that is probably a good amount for a family dinner leaving some for the next day (hooray!). I used and favor dried cannellini beans, white kidney beans, one of the beans common to Italian cooking, but this will work with any white bean, like navy beans, too.
Bring a big stockpot of water to a boil, turn off the heat and leave your dried beans for an hour to soak. Drain the soaked beans and bring a fresh pot of water to a boil, about double the amount of water to beans. Peel a few cloves of garlic and quarter a small onion; add these to the boiling water. Add a few stalks of rosemary, thyme or both as well. Add your beans, cover the pot and bring it back to a boil. Salt and pepper the water and give it all a good stirring. Simmer, stirring occasionally, for half an hour and check the beans for tenderness. They may need to cook for up to half an hour more.
Meanwhile, preheat your oven to 400° and strip off the papery outermost layers of three heads of garlic. Slice off the tough, root end. Coat with olive oil and bundle in foil. Stick them in the oven and roast, turning occasionally, for half an hour. Let cool on top of the stove or out of the way until cool to handle.
Drain the cooked beans and dump into a big serving bowl, picking out the onion, garlic and herb stems. Chop a few tablespoons of fresh thyme or rosemary or both and stir them in. Pop the roasted garlic from their skins and stir them in. Drizzle with rosemary, sprinkle with salt and pepper, stir. Drizzle again with olive oil, sprinkle with paprika and serve with grated paramesean cheese.
Good hot or room temperature or reheated, so this is a fine dish for making in advance and sitting for a long time at the table.
pumpkin and white bean soup
10 Nov 2009 Leave a Comment
in beans & lentils, carrots, recipes, soup, squash, vegan, vegetarian Tags: autumn, Brooklyn, cooking, farmer's market, pumpkin
pumpkin soup
from the Greens cookbook (1987) written by the chefs of the same-named restaurant in California to which I have never been. So sad.
found the most beautiful Cinderella pumpkin at the Cortelyou Farmer’s market. It would have made a wonderful carriage, green like patina on copper, frosty white in patches. Not being a fairy godmother, I made a soup instead. It was a hefty pumpkin, and I used half, approximately ¾ pound or 4-5 cups when cut in chunks.
halving a pumpkin and skinning it is not for the faint of heart—a serious knife should be employed for the purpose. If you don’t yet have a beloved blade then ask a friend with kitchen wits and witchery (and a bit of cash flow) to get you a good Chef’s knife for your birthday. A fine knife will make you more eager to cut up veggies and entices your foodie friends to cook in your kitchen. Back to the pumpkin: plunge your knife tip into the skin near the stem, the bottom is usually the flattest part of the thing and should sit steadily on your cutting board but having a friend help you steady it is not a bad idea, and carefully bear down along the whole blade, towards the bottom of the pumpkin. Pull out the blade and start again as often as you need. Bit by bit is better than a dramatic cleaving and trip to the emergency room. Repeat on the other side.
scoop the seeds and goop from the pumpkin halves. if you want, reserve some of the seeds for toasted pumpkin seeds, and pile up at least some of the seeds and all of the pulp to use for the stock. slice of the pumpkin skins and set aside for stock as well. cut the pumpkin into slices about an inch wide then across to make large chunks.
wash one medium or two small leeks. Slice off the greens and set aside. Slice down the center of the leeks and across into thin half moon strips. Smash and peel two or three cloves of garlic. Scrub and chop a few carrots or parsnips (parsnips are really nice) and several ribs of celery.
in a large pot, heat a tablespoon of olive oil. add the garlic and leek greens and stir to coat and cook a few moments. stir in the celery. add in the pumpkin pulp and seeds and a few stalks of parsley. Salt and pepper the whole lot. Pour in about six cups of water. Bring to a simmer and cook for about 20 minutes. Turn off the heat and let cool a bit before draining, squeezing the rich broth from the veggies by pressing them in a colander over a bowl or pot.
in a soup pot, heat a few slugs of olive oil. add the leeks and stir, cooking over a medium flame until they begin to soften. toss in the pumpkin and carrots, stirring to coat. Cook for about 9 minutes, stirring occasionally or often depending on how wide or narrow your pot is. salt and pepper (white pepper if you have it) and stir in a handful of sage and/or thyme. Pour in the stock and bring to a simmer. Cook for about half an hour (sometimes longer) until the pumpkin begins to fall apart. Stir it every once and awhile.
add a few cups of cooked white beans* and a cup or two of the bean cooking liquid and stir. Cook for another 15 minutes or so, until the pumpkin is an orange velvet background to the beans.
top with a drizzle of olive oil, chopped parsley and a squeeze of lemon or swirl in a spoonful of plain yoghurt, crème fraiche or sour cream. Serve with piles of warm, excellent bread.
* to make the beans: pick through two cups of dried small white beans, like navy beans, and remove any bad beans or junk. bring a pot of water to a boil, about three time the amount of beans. turn off the heat and add the beans and let sit for an hour. rinse the soaked beans in cold water, combine with fresh water in the pot, add in stalks of fresh or dried sage and thyme and bring to a boil. cook for about an hour or al dente. drain, saving some of the cooking liquid.
summer strudel
18 Jun 2007 Leave a Comment
in beans & lentils, cheese, pastry, peas, recipes Tags: basil, phyllo, summer
this basil – in bloom – and veggies from the farmers’ market wrapped up with cheese in phyllo dough
don’t fear the strudel – it is just like a fancy burrito.
heat your oven to 375º and line a cookie sheet with parchment paper – especially if you want to make the strudel and refrigerate it to cook later – or grease it lightly with butter.
Thaw a package of phyllo dough. You are only going to use three sheets so if you are not interested in trying some other phyllo recipes you can make this filling and use it in tortillas like a quesadilla or as a layered frittata. Anyway, onward-
prep your veggies. Scrub clean, leave the skins on, and slice thin:
1 small summer squash. Slice your squash very fine, so you have thin circles edged in green. If it is short and squat rather than long like zucchini, then cut it in half then slice. The one I took home from the farmers’ market was the size of a tennis ball, gum drop shaped, and green with white speckles.
5 new red potatoes, about the size of ping pong balls. Slice them very fine, so you have thin circles edged in red.
peel and slice:
½ of a sweet yellow onion
melt 4 tablespoons (half stick) or so of butter or olive oil in a hot skillet. Pour off all but a table spoon into a cup to use with the pastry later. In the remainder, fry the onion and potatoes until the onions are translucent and the potatoes just begin to brown – about 10 minutes over a medium high flame. Every few minutes, turn them carefully with a fork; the potatoes this thin are delicate.
in a medium sized bowl, mash together with a fork:
1 cup pre-cooked cannelloni beans, tossed with olive oil, salt, and pepper, and
¾ cup fresh soft cheese. Sounds vague, but the label on the tub from the upstate organic, humane dairy says “fresh soft cheese” so I don’t know what else to tell you. Whatever local, happy white soft cheese you can get will be delicious.
pick a handful of fresh basil leaves. I ended up with about a half cup of shredded basil – suit yourself. Pick the leaves, and layer them, staggered side by side to make a wide stack, then roll them up like a cigar. Slice along the circular end to make fine shreds. Stir into the beans and cheese, along with:
¼ cup or more fresh sweet peas.
unroll your phyllo dough on a cutting board, and lift one sheet to your paper-lined baking tray. Brush lightly with butter, layer another sheet, brush with butter, third sheet, butter. Drop several tablespoons of the cheese filling onto the stack of phyllo, making a rectangle of filling with an inch of pastry above and below and two inches to its right. Layer slices of squash over the filling then add a bit more cheese & beans. Layer the potatoes and onions over that and a little more cheese and bean. You’ll have more filling than you need. Fold the two inches of pastry to the right over the filling then fold over the top and bottom pastry margin. Using the parchment paper to help you, fold the strudel over and possible over again to seal. Brush the entire outside with melted butter. Slash diagonal cuts across the top.
store in the refrigerator until ready to use (even over night) or bake immediately for about half an hour or until the outside is golden brown.
You can make this recipe vegan by making sure you use vegan phyllo, subbing olive oil for the butter, omitting the cheese entirely, and mashing the beans more thoroughly. Try adding tofutti sour supreme or tahini to make it creamier. Other veganizing ideas – please leave ‘em in the comments.
dried beans, dried beans!
18 Jan 2007 Leave a Comment
in beans & lentils, recipes Tags: onion
When they’re just in their little slack bag on the shelf or heaped up in the dusty bins in the bulk section, dried beans look like they require serious work. While they do take time, they actually hardly need your help or attention at all. Less work than a Chia Pet and infinitely tastier (though I am wondering if anyone has grown anything edible off a Chia Pet. A little Chia Pet herb garden marching across my window sill would be cute).
If you are not already a dried bean devotee, allow me to list some of their finer qualities:
- Cheap – we’re talking under a dollar for a pound.
- Convenience – you can keep a wide array of dried legumes (the family name for all beanies & their kin) around. I store them in old juice jars, and they keep practically forever. Cooking beans can be a lovely sort of ritual when you have a lot of time, or you can cook them in about an hour when you get home from work if you think to put them in to soak before turning in the night before. You ignore them for an hour – time to peel off your pantyhose (if you have been so miserably constricted all day) or put your pantyhose on (if that’s what you do in your private time).
- They are not suspended in the mystery goo of canned beans. Canned beans are serviceable. I usually have a few cans around. Canned beans are handy, speedy dinner/snacker helpers: hummus, black bean dip, baked beans, beans & rice and any other number of things. Just rinse them off really well, and maybe avoid using them in salad. But at the end of the day, the texture of canned beans is rather unfortunate. Might as well cook dried and freeze ‘em. Fast as a can. Less suspect. Less industrial processing.
The canellini bean & roasted garlic soup is more of a weekend recipe. Start Saturday evening by soaking the beans and finish Sunday evening with a lovely soup. The soup is divine re-heated, makes a good vehicle for leftover green veggies later in the week (mmmmmmmmmmm kale) and you get bonus beans to toss into pasta, salad or tofu scramble.
Sets up some kitchen luvin’ for yourself all week long, you know?
Plus, it is inexpensive! Especially when you get that $2 bottle of white wine though I don’t recommend drinking it while you cook. And if you make/have your own stock (stock blog forthcoming).
cannellini bean & roasted garlic soup
18 Jan 2007 1 Comment
in beans & lentils, recipes, soup Tags: Brooklyn, cooking, dinner, garlic, italian
- cannellini beans
- dried rosemary
- dried oregano
- 2 bulbs of garlic
- water
- veggie stock
- white wine
- sage
- rosemary
to cook the beans
Pick over the dried cannellini beans: run your fingers over and through them in a colander, bowl or on a cookie sheet, looking for & tossing beans that are shriveled or darkened. You can be more or less meticulous about this based on time & personality. At minimum, make sure there are no pebbles or grit.
Rinse the beans in cold water a few times then soak them, covered generously with cold water, overnight. The following day, dump the beans into a colander and rinse them a few times.
Transfer to a large, sturdy pot and add water. Cannellinis, like most beans, take 3 cups of water per cup of dried beans. Bring to a low boil, angle the lid to only partially cover the pot, and let simmer away. Toss in a small handful of dried rosemary and oregano. Cook the cannellinis for about 45 minutes. The beans should be just about tender but not quite as done as you’d like them if you were going to eat them right away.
Reserve 2 cups or so of the broth; pour it into a measuring cup or other container. Drain the beans. Let cool and toss with olive oil. Stash any beans you aren’t using immediately in the fridge until you are ready to use them.
to make the soup
Roast one bulb of garlic. Rub off the top layers of papery skin, slice the top and bottom flat, set it in a square of foil, drizzle with your best olive oil. Seal the foil and roast in a 375 degree oven for about an hour, until it is soft and carmelly.
If you are cooking beans and making soup all in one go then start the garlic before you start the beans. This creates time for it to cool for handling.
Peel and mince 4 cloves of garlic. Mince about 2 tablespoons worth of rosemary and sage.
Now it gets tricky – put everything in the pot and simmer for hours.
In a big, heavy pot, combine about 4 cups of the beans with 2 cups of veg broth, 2 cups of wine and 2 cups of water. Add the minced garlic. Over medium-high heat and covered, bring the soup to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer.
Reserve some of the oil from the roasted garlic to drizzle over the soup later then squeeze the roasted garlic cloves into the pot. Cook for at least an hour; you want the level of the soup to drop a few inches. Add more liquid if you like. Stir lazily but frequently with a wooden spoon, squishing some of the beans against the side of the pot to mush them. Mashing the beans thickens your soup, so mush more or less depending on your personal tastes. If it is a fancy sort of occasion and you have the equipment – you could run the whole lot through a blender for a beautiful, velvety white soup. You might want to keep out the fresh herbs and stir them in after you’ve reheated the puree.
To serve as they would in Tuscany, ladle over a slab of toasted Italian bread and drizzle with the garlic oil. I humbly recommend a rosemary loaf or sourdough.
