Brussels Sprouts with Bacon and Lemon Zest

This will come as a shock to all regular readers, I know, but the truth must out. I used to not like something that I now love. Shockingly-er still, it has something to do with bacon.

 
I'll give you a moment to recover.

The formerly-disparaged vegetable in question this time is the Brussels sprout. I could wax palaverous about my conversion, but I'll spare you this once. The short version is, in the following order:
1. Ugh.
2. Tuli Bistro
3. Oh!
4. The following recipe.
5. Gosh I love Brussels sprouts. Do you want to make Brussels sprouts tonight? I really love Brussels sprouts, don't you? Hello, check-out person at the co-op! Have I talked to you about my deep and profound love of that vegetable you're ringing up there? Hey guy next to my car, guess what? Brussels sprouts! (To which my husband replied: Yes dear. Get in, please.)

I know I say this a lot, but I mean it every time: Make this.

Love the Brussel. Be the Brussel. Eat the Brussel...

Ingredients
1 slice Niman Ranch applewood smoked bacon, sliced crosswise
Olive oil
1/4 red onion, thinly sliced
3/4 lbs small young brussels sprouts, washed well and halved
(for larger sprouts, separate the outer leaves)
1/4 cup chicken broth
1 tsp lemon zest + 1 pinch sugar, mixed
1 oz blue cheese, crumbled or cut into small pieces
(We tried this with a crumbly blue cheese and a creamier/tangier blue cheese and preferred the crumbly one)
Salt to taste

Heat a wide nonstick pan over medium heat. When hot, add the bacon, and saute for a minute. Add a glug of olive oil, the onion, and a pinch of salt, and saute for another couple minutes until the onion softens.

Add the brussels sprouts and a couple liberal pinches of salt, and toss to coat evenly. Saute, stirring occasionally, for about 4 minutes.

Add a splash of broth to create some steam and cover the pan. Continue cooking for another 4-6 minutes, stirring once in the middle, until the brussels sprouts are golden brown and the hearts are al dente.

Uncover, push to the side of the pan, and add the lemon zest-sugar mixure. Let heat through for 5 seconds, then stir to mix well with the sprouts. Sprinkle in the blue cheese, stir, turn off the heat, and serve hot.

Serves 2.

Tangerine Mimosas

Happy New Year, everyone! Ring in 2013 with a sweet twist on the classic mimosa (juice 1-2 tangerines into each half-glass of champagne, clink a toast, and sip happily).

Here's to a new year of recipes to come....

Butternut Squash Polenta with Sage and Gruyere

You say parsnip addiction, I say parsnip penchant.

We could agree to disagree, or you could surrender to reality. The proof is in the polenta. 

Ingredients
Olive oil
1/2 butternut squash, diced (about 1.3 lbs)
1 large parsnip, diced (about 10 oz.)
1 tbsp pastured butter
2 tbsp chopped fresh sage or a little more (older sage is far less potent, so nibble a piece to taste and adjust if necessary)
1 cup coarsely ground cornmeal (polenta)
2 cups veggie or chicken broth
1/2 cup grated Gruyere cheese (about 2 oz.)
2 handfuls baby arugula, chopped (about 2-3 oz.)
Salt and freshly ground white pepper

Heat a wide saute pan over medium heat. When hot, add a glug of olive oil. Add the squash and parsnip and toss to coat lightly in oil. Cook, stirring every 2-3 minutes, until the squash begins to take on some color and the pieces are tender (about 7-12 minutes. If your pieces are larger, you may need to cover the pan after they've browned a bit and use the steam to get them to cook through).

Push the veggie to the side of the pan and melt the butter on the other side. Add the sage, stir once or twice, then toss with the squash and parsnip to coat. Sprinkle with salt and turn off the heat.

Meanwhile, bring 2 cups of broth plus one cup of water to a rolling boil in a pot. While stirring constantly with a wooden spoon, add the polenta in a slow stream. Continue to stir constantly, turning the heat down slightly, for 3-4 minutes or until the polenta thickens to almost (but not quite) the desired consistency—think spreadable but thick. Turn off the heat and stir in the cheese and arugula.

Combine the polenta and the veggies in either pot. Stir, and adjust sage and salt to taste. Serve immediately, with freshly ground white pepper over the top. Garnish with a little chopped arugula if desired.

Serves 2 for dinner.


(Note that polenta doesn't reheat well, so if you end up with leftovers, one idea is to press them into a square tupperware, refrigerate, and then slice the block that forms into cakes that you can fry in a little olive oil the next day.)

Smashed Pacarsnip

This recipe is what you'd get if you asked Santa for a magical holiday side dish that was all buttery and wonderful on the outside and a secret nutritional powerhouse on the inside. And Santa would say: "You mean, like mashed potatoes except way easier and also more flavorful while eradicating all vestiges of guilt from the post-helping-yourself-to-thirds phase?" And you would say: "Yes. Exactly like that. And I want to eat it while flying through the air on a reindeer."

And then Santa would probably say: "One magical thing at a time, please."

And you would pause, because magical reindeer are awesome, but magical side dishes are pretty awesome too.

Fortunately, now that you have the side dish, there's nothing standing between you and Rudolph, should the opportunity arise.

You want a roughly equal volume of carrots and parsnips for this one, and note that the carrots will cook a little more slowly (so if one is cut a bit smaller than the other, it should be the carrots). Also, I highly recommend saying "pacarsnip" out loud, possibly several times in a row.

Pacarsnip.

Ingredients
Olive oil
4 large carrots, peeled and cut into 1-inch pieces
3 large parsnips, peeled and cut into 1-inch pieces
1/3 cup broth
1 tbsp pastured butter
1 large handful flat-leaf parsley, chopped (3-4 tbsp)
Salt and freshly ground white pepper to taste

Heat a pot (not nonstick) over medium heat. When hot, add a glug of olive oil. Add the veggies and stir to coat lightly. Cook, stirring every 2 minutes or so, for 5-10 minutes until many of the pieces take on some golden caramelized color on at least one side.

Add the broth, cover, and turn the heat down to medium low. Simmer, stirring well every 5 minutes to circulate which veggies are on the bottom, for 15-20 minutes or until veggies are tender enough to mash. (If the pot dries out, you can add a little more broth; if there's excess at the end, drain it or let it evaporate.)

Add the butter as you start mashing the vegetables with a potato masher. After a minute, turn off the heat. Mash until desired consistency, stir in the parsley, and add salt and pepper to taste. Serve hot.

Serves 4.

Roasted Vegetable Soup

Every now and then...approximately once a year, to be precise...we manage to roast so many winter root vegetables that we have leftovers.

You might wonder, given how frequently we roast them, that there aren't leftovers more often. I blame parsnips. You see, we'll start out with the best of intentions to stop eating before the bottom of the pan, but then there will be a parsnip, and the only way to get to the parsnip will be to eat the carrot above the turnip above the yam that's covering it. It's entrapment by parsnip. That's totally a thing. Look it up.

In any event, if you should ever find yourself with leftovers (to roast, simply cut your carrots, parsnips, turnips, and/or yams into equal-sized chunks, toss liberally in olive oil and—if you'd like—a couple cloves of pressed garlic and some chopped fresh thyme, then roast at 425°F for about an hour, stirring every 15 minutes, till caramelized and tender)...if this serendipitous and rare occurrence of abundance should ever happen to you, here's what you do:

1. Remove serendipitous leftovers from fridge.

2. Put in a pot.

3. Cover (almost to the top) with good-quality, flavorful veggie broth.

4. Bring to a simmer.

5. Blend with an immersion blender until desired consistency. (If it's too thick, you can add more broth, but note that thicker also means more roasted veggie flavor.)

6. Add a slosh of cream, and adjust salt to taste.

7. Serve warm, garnished with nasturtiums and/or a bit of chopped parsley.

Plants for Breakfast: Roasted Sweet Potato Rounds

In our ongoing quest to discover easy and delicious mostly-plant breakfasts, we stumbled on this one completely by accident. All you need is a few spare yams next time you're roasting something in the oven, and voila—breakfast and/or afternoon snacks for the rest of the week. (Or at least for the next two days. They're shockingly addictive...kind of like giant sweet potato fries big enough to sink your teeth into and healthy enough to eat by the plate.)

Ingredients
Olive oil
Garnet yams, peeled and sliced into 1/2 inch rounds

Preheat oven to 425°F.

Brush yam slices liberally with olive oil and arrange on a foil-lined baking sheet. Roast for 20 minutes or until golden brown on the bottom, then turn slices and roast for 15 minutes more or until both sides are nicely browned.

Let cool, then refrigerate until you want them. You can reheat them for breakfast or sneak them straight out of the refrigerator when you think no one is watching.

Fall Fig and Gorgonzola Crostini

Sweet ripe figs and tangy blue cheese make a heavenly pairing for easy and elegant crostini appetizers, or grab a loaf of Village Bakery's walnut levain and make sinfully rich open-faced sandwiches for lunch.

Ripe figs are key here...after you buy them, leave them out of the refrigerator until they feel soft when you squeeze them gently between thumb and forefinger. If you must make this before your figs finish ripening, you could drizzle a little honey over the top to sweeten, but it's worth waiting an extra day for the figs to sweeten themselves.

Ingredients
Small or large slices of bread, toasted
Gorgonzola, Bleu d'Auvergne, or another creamy blue cheese
Ripe figs, halved lengthwise and then sliced into thirds

Spread a thin layer of blue cheese on the toasts, top with figs, and serve.

Roasted Acorn Squash

Looking for some roasted squash to pair with your braised kale for a cool-weather feast? Look no further.

Ingredients
2 acorn squash, halved lengthwise
Olive oil
1/2 tbsp pastured butter
1 smallish shallot, chopped
1 tbsp fresh chopped sage (or thinly slice crosswise into ribbons)
2 tbsp pine nuts

Preheat the oven to 400°.

Brush cut side of squash with olive oil and turn face-down on a foil-lined baking sheet. Bake for 45-80 minutes or until tender (the back of the squash should yield a little to a gentle poke with a pot-holdered finger).

About 10 minutes before the squash are done, heat a small pan over medium heat. Melt the butter, add a small glug of olive oil, and then add the shallot. Saute for a minute until they soften, then add the pine nuts and the sage and turn the heat down slightly. Continue to cook for another 1-2 minutes, then remove from the heat and set aside.

Turn the squash right-side up and test them for doneness with a fork or spoon in the middle of the cavity (the flesh should be smooth and soft, not hard or grainy). Add a dollop of the pine nut sage mixture to each half and spread across the bottom, then return to the oven and bake another 5-10 minutes until very soft.

Serves 4.

Braised Kale

Red Russian kale becomes heavenly when roasted. Green kale, it turns out, is meant to be braised, which turns it from obligatory health food to addictive melt-in-your-mouth caramelization with a southern, collard greeny feel.

Serve this alongside roasted squash and lamb or chicken for a richly delicious fall meal.

Ingredients
Olive oil
2-3 cloves garlic, smashed
1 small to medium shallot, halved lengthwise and sliced
1 bunch green kale, sliced crosswise into ribbons, washed well, and spun dry in a salad spinner
1/4-1/2 cup chicken broth
Salt

Heat a generous glug of olive oil in a wide saute pan over medium heat. Add the garlic and shallot and saute for 1-2 minutes, until they soften slightly. Add the kale, in batches if the pan isn't big enough to hold it all at once before it starts to wilt, and toss well with the garlic and shallot. Saute, turning occasionally with tongs, until the kale wilts down quite a bit and starts to brown slightly here and there, drizzling with a little more olive oil if necessary.

When the kale is browned in a few places, add about half the broth and a pinch of salt. Cover and turn the heat down slightly. Simmer for about 20-30 minutes until the greens are very tender, stirring every 5-10 minutes and adding a little more broth if the pan gets too dry. (If the pan does dry out and you don't catch it in time, never fear: This is the sort of dish that gets better the more times it caramelizes as it sticks to the bottom of the pan.)

When the greens are very tender and deeply delectable, turn off the heat. Adjust salt to taste, and serve hot.

Serves 2-4.

Dragon Beans with Shallot and Balsamic Reduction

One day in early autumn, while forging through the tulgey wood,* we found dragon beans.
 
Obviously, the name alone meant that we had to buy them. There is, after all, something deeply satisfying about responding to the question "What should we have for dinner tonight?" by yelling "DRAGON BEANS!" at the top of one's lungs. Try it. You'll see.

(Yes, that is your neighbor staring through your kitchen window at you, and yes, he could probably hear you just then as you were gleefully screeching about mythical vegetable beasts, but that wide-eyed look on his face is obviously just jealousy about your dragon beans. He probably wants to steal them. You should no doubt lock the window and then yell DRAGON BEANS again, with emphatic arm movements, just to stake your claim.)

It just so happens that dragon beans are also (a) gorgeous and (b) deeply delicious. They would be lovely kept raw, in a salad, or arranged on a plate as crudité. We cooked ours (after liberal nibbling), which meant that they lost their fancy coloring, but they turned out so sweet and juicy and delectably addictive that we forgot to care.

Ingredients
Olive oil
1 small shallot, halved lengthwise and sliced
2 mild chile peppers, sliced into thin rings
1 lb dragon beans (or sub any especially crunchy, juicy green beans)
About 2 tbsp chicken broth (or sub veggie broth)
About 2 tbsp sweet basil chiffonade 
2 tbsp balsamic vinegar
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Fresh nasturtium flowers (optional)

Heat a wide saute pan over medium heat. When hot, add a generous glug of olive oil, then add the shallot and chiles and saute for two minutes or so until they soften. Add the beans and toss to coat. Continue cooking for about five minutes, tossing every minute or two.

Add a slosh of broth, cover, and turn the heat down to medium-low. Let steam for 2-3 more minutes until they are a minute away from al dente. (If the beans are especially crunchy and juicy, like ours were, you might want to stop cooking them on the early side to capitalize on that.)

Push the beans to the side of the pan, add just a bit more olive oil and the basil, and fry for 30 seconds. Push to the side with the beans, tilt the pan toward the empty side, and add the balsamic vinegar. Keep the pan tilted with the vinegar side over the flame as it simmers, until it reduces in volume by about half. Turn off the heat, stir to coat evenly, and serve.

Garnish with nasturtiums.

Serves 4.

*a.k.a. our co-op