Curried Potato Salad with Cilantro and Ginger

A few weeks ago, while lunching outdoors in Berkeley on a shady patio, basking in the summery summertime, I was offered a bite of potato salad.

"Potato salad?" said the bite-offerer, descriptively.

"Um," I replied.

I paused. I'm not such a fan of potato salad, after all. I believe in the overcooking of all potatoes always forever, and potato salad potatoes are so frequently al dente. And then there's the mayonnaise thing. And the cold thing. And the lack of any hint of flavor drama.

And yet.

Maybe this was THE potato salad. Maybe this would be the moment at which the summertime picnics of my life would change course magically and irrevocably in a blissful epiphany of potato salad perfection. Maybe the secret ingredient was hidden inside this very forkful.

I forked.

I chewed.

I marveled at how very much this potato salad tasted exactly like every other potato salad I had ever tried in the history of summertime picnics.

Enough was enough. I was tired of being a passive potato salad bystander, sitting wistfully on the sidelines of summertime picnic history. It was time to act. It was time to make this.

It is in many ways, as you will see, the anti-potato salad potato salad. No mayonnaise. No white potatoes. Bursting with flavor. And best of all, delightfully overcooked.


Ingredients
1.25 lbs yellow or purple potatoes
Rounded 1/2 tsp black or yellow mustard seeds, lightly toasted in a pan until fragrant (about 30 seconds)
4 tbsp olive oil
2 tsp red wine vinegar
1/2 tsp grated fresh ginger
Scant 1 tsp good quality curry powder
1/4 tsp kosher salt
Handful cilantro, chopped (about 2 1/2 tbsp)
Small handful baby arugula, chopped
2-3 scallions, sliced

Bring a pot of water to boil for the potatoes, then boil 15-25 minutes until the skins split and the potatoes are very tender (i.e., delightfully overcooked). Drain, rinse with cold water or an ice bath to cool, and peel (the skins should pull off easily).

Whisk together the olive oil, vinegar, curry powder, ginger, and salt. Put the peeled potatoes in a bowl and break apart into bite-sized pieces with a fork, then drizzle with the curry mixture and toss to coat evenly. Sprinkle in the mustard seeds, cilantro, arugula, and scallions, tossing gently to mix evenly. Adjust seasonings to taste (the spice of the curry, tang of the vinegar, and cilantro-y-ness of the cilantro should balance each other out -- if one seems to be missing from the flavor, add a bit more. If the flavor just seems muted overall and you want to make it louder, sprinkle in a bit more salt).

Cover the bowl and leave in the fridge to chill while the flavors blend until you're ready to eat.

Serves 3-4.

Kaua'i, Day 1: Purple Long Beans with Garlic and Mustard Seeds

The downside of cooking away from home is navigating a foreign kitchen. For instance, I would have thought low heat was lower than medium, but that may just be me and my sheltered mainland ways. And under no other circumstances would you be likely to hit upon the idea of trying to rinse rice with the aid of a coffee filter. (Tip: Don't.)

The upside to cooking away from home? Grabbing the most unusual things in the market to make for dinner.

Found on the way north from the airport: Fresh-caught moonfish at Fish Express, local purple long beans at Papaya's Natural Foods, palm trees, green cliffs, bougainvillea and bromeliads, a vast and shimmering sea.

The long beans I just threw in a wide pan with some olive oil, a smashed clove of garlic, and a scattering of black mustard seeds, then tossed, covered, and cooked till al dente.

In the face of what I can only assume is an island-wide drought of coconut milk (since I can't imagine why else a store would be completely out of it...maybe coconut-obsessed island gnomes who strike in the dead of night?), I bravely abandoned my go to recipe for moonfish in favor of a new one (sprinkle with salt, black pepper, and red pepper flakes, pan fry until almost cooked through, serve over black rice...then melt a pat of butter in the pan, toss in a couple tablespoons julienned ginger and let caramelize, throw in some cilantro and a glug of white wine, simmer briefly, pour over the fish).

It'll do.

Ginger-Rubbed Salmon with Mustard Seeds and Sorrel

Quick, easy, and stupendously delicious...hello, salmon season. I've missed you.

Serve this over jasmine rice or jade pearl rice, with sauteed greens on the side.

Ingredients
12 oz wild salmon
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
2 tsp grated fresh ginger
1 small clove garlic, pressed
Mustard seeds
Onion blossoms
(or sub 1 scallion, thinly sliced)
Olive oil
1 cup chopped sorrel leaves
(about one third to half a bunch)


Sprinkle salmon generously with salt on both sides, and a little ground pepper on the non-skin side. Mash the garlic and ginger together, and then rub onto the fish (mostly on the non-skin side, and a little on the skin if you plan to eat it, which you should, because it will be amazing. Trust me). Sprinkle the non-skin side lightly with mustard seeds and the onion blossoms or scallion.

Heat a nonstick pan over medium heat. When the pan is hot, add a glug of olive oil and swirl to spread in the pan. Place the fish in the pan skin-side down, wait a moment, then shake to make sure it's not sticking.

Cook for several minutes, until the skin is golden-brown, then flip and cook for a minute until the fish has just a hint of gold to it (if it's a thick piece of salmon, you may have to cook it for a couple minutes on the non-skin side...or, keep it skin side down, and put a lid on the pan for a minute to help it cook through).

When the fish is medium-rare (still that darker shade of pink in the middle), serve onto a bed of rice. The trick is to catch it just before it's as cooked as you want it, since it will keep cooking a bit over the hot rice. The other trick is to eat it medium-rare, because medium-rare salmon is amazing.

Drizzle a little more olive oil in the pan, add the sorrel, sprinkle with a pinch of salt, and toss to coat. Turn off the heat. Saute the sorrel, stirring, for about 20-30 seconds till it just starts to change color from a vibrant green to a darker olive tone. Pour over the salmon, and serve immediately.

Serves 2.

Sauteed Pea Shoots with Garlic Butter

There were pea shoots in our CSA box this week.

Not little baby pea shoots, like the ones that come in a nice safe-looking plastic container from the store. No, these were big, emphatic pea shoots. Pea shoots that meant business. Young and tender, yes, but still. There was no mistaking them for sprouts. No pretending they were not, basically, large pieces of a vine.

The box insert seemed to imply that they were edible. At least, I assume that a recipe for chicken and cilantro with pea shoots suggests you should put the pea shoots in with the chicken, and eat them both.

 
The internets said sugar snap pea shoots are edible, and other pea shoots are poisonous.

We said: "Surely our beloved CSA box wouldn't poison us."

And then we said: "Surely our beloved CSA box wouldn't poison us intentionally."

We Googled "sugar snap pea shoots" and compared and contrasted the pictures with our bowl full of loosely identified vegetable matter. We tilted our heads and squinted. We reassured each other about the similarity of the leaf shape in the photograph and the leaf shape in our hands. We reiterated the point about our CSA box not poisoning us. We made courageous declarations about boldly going where smarter people might not be particularly inclined to go. We steeled our steadfast stomachs.

We cooked the pea shoots. We ate them.

So far, you will be happy to know, we are decidedly alive, and these were decidedly delectable.


Ingredients
A big bowl full of young sugar snap pea shoots, cut or pinched into 3-inch pieces
(if you pinch them apart with your fingertips, you can tell if they're tender -- if you come across a tough piece, toss it out)
1 tbsp butter
1 tbsp olive oil
1 clove garlic, smashed
1 tsp black mustard seeds
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Heat butter and olive oil in a nonstick pan over medium heat. When hot, add the garlic and mustard seeds and saute for about 2 minutes. Add the pea shoots, sprinkle with salt, and saute, tossing from time to time, for 2 minutes or until most of the leaves have just wilted. Turn off the heat, toss once more, and season with salt and pepper to taste. Serve hot.

Serves 2-4, and pairs well with Sri Lankan dal curry or fish.

Wilted Greens Salad with Tuna

The problem with brunch -- and I must admit I feel slightly sacrilegious uttering those words, so allow me to rephrase -- one tiny, insignificant, easily airbrushed imperfection on the face of the deeply beloved meal of brunch (ah, much better) is that it's one meal instead of two.

I bemoan this fact not because of my intrinsically greedy, supersized-endless-refill-loving American ways, but because as someone who eats like a hummingbird (that's the polite term my husband has developed to mean "constantly"), having one big meal all at once can't quite take the place of smaller portions spread out over the day. Now if it's a late brunch, this is easily remedied by a surreptitious cup of coffee and handful of fruit while, for example, your house guests slumber away unknowingly upstairs. But if it's an earlyish brunch, you're left with this awkwardly-sized stretch between french toast and dinnertime that's too small for lunch but too big for nothing.

Enter the Goldilocks Brinner. Large enough to feel like a meal, and light enough not to interfere with dinnertime appetites: just right for any fellow foodie hummingbirds out there.

Ingredients
1 can albacore tuna, drained
Medium, good quality curry powder
Handful flat leaf parsley, chopped
Salt & black pepper
Small handful sliced almonds
Olive oil
Yellow and/or black mustard seeds
Several large handfuls of spicy greens (e.g., half baby arugula and half mustard frisee -- something with a bit of a kick), very coarsely chopped/sliced

Combine the tuna with a bit of olive oil in a small bowl, then stir in half a spoonful or so of curry powder, the parsley, a pinch of salt, and ground black pepper to taste. Mix well, then add the almonds and stir gently a couple times to combine.

Meanwhile, heat a bit of olive oil in a wide saute pan over medium heat. When hot, add the mustard seeds and stir once or twice. After about 20 seconds, add the greens and toss to combine with the mustard seeds. Saute for a minute or two until they just begin to wilt, then cover the pan, turn off the heat, and let steam for a minute more until just wilted.

Arrange a bed of the greens on plates (don't preheat the plates -- you want the greens to go ahead and cool to room temperature), sprinkle with just a little olive oil, and top with tuna.

Serves 2 for a very light, halfway-between-brunch-and-an-early-dinner sort of meal.

Mustard Seed Salmon with Garlic Blossoms and Parsley Butter

Our house guests this week brought fresh-caught salmon with them (which we think all future house guests should take as a challenge), and our produce box sent the scapes and tops from young elephant garlic. Good things were bound to happen.

To use the blossom-filled tops of the garlic scapes, cut each in half crosswise. Empty the little buds from the top half into a small bowl, then peel the bottom half and cut the buds away from the center. Garlic blossoms have a light, springy, and subtle garlicky flavor and ended up complementing the fresh salmon well without overpowering it. If you don't have garlic blossoms, use a little chopped green garlic or a finely chopped leek in its stead.

Ingredients
Olive oil
4 salmon filets
Black and yellow mustard seeds
Blossoms from 2-3 elephant garlic tops
2-3 big handfuls flat leaf parsley, finely chopped
Pasture butter
Salt

Brush the salmon lightly with olive oil and sprinkle both sides lightly with garlic blossoms (use about half of the blossoms you have, and reserve the other half). Next, liberally sprinkle mustard seeds on both sides of the salmon.

Heat a nonstick pan over medium heat. When hot enough that a drop of water evaporates right away, add a bit of olive oil and let it heat for another 20-30 seconds or so (heating the pan until very hot and then heating the olive oil before adding the salmon will help make sure the fish doesn't stick to the pan).

Place the salmon in the pan skin side up. Sprinkle each fillet with a little salt, and pan fry until the bottoms are lightly golden or until the salmon is cooked through about a third of the way. If the fillets are very thick, you can lower the heat slightly and cover the pan for a couple minutes to help it cook through.

Flip the fillets, sprinkle the tops with a little salt again, and continue to cook until the salmon feels firmer when you press it gently on the top. (If you're open to trying it medium or medium-rare, do -- it's amazing. If you'd prefer to cook it through all the way, you can do that too, but turn off the heat just before it's done, since it will cook a bit more on the plate before you have a chance to eat it.)

Meanwhile, heat a small pot over medium heat. Add a glug of olive oil and a pat of butter, a pinch of salt, and the rest of the garlic blossoms. Saute for 10-20 seconds, then add the parsley, stir, and turn off the heat.

Arrange the salmon over rice or quinoa pilaf, and drizzle a little parsley sauce over the top. Serve right away.

Serves 4.

Arugula Rapini with Garlic and Mustard Seeds

I suspect this would work with any green mystery vegetable. Certainly broccolini would go well (but note that it will probably take a few more minutes to cook until tender).

If you do find yourself with a bunch of arugula rapini, do this with it. Because it is somehow kind of like french fries, only better.

Ingredients
Olive oil
1 large clove garlic, smashed
Yellow mustard seeds
1 bunch arugula rapini
1/4 cup chicken broth (or sub vegetable broth)
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Heat a generous glug of olive oil in a wide pan over medium heat. Add the garlic and let simmer in the olive oil for a minute or two, then add a scattering of mustard seeds (a couple four-fingered pinches should do it). Continue cooking for another couple of minutes, turning the garlic when it starts to brown lightly on one side.

Add the rapini to the pan. Using tongs, toss with the olive oil and mustard seeds to coat evenly. Cover the pan and cook for 1-2 minutes, then add the chicken broth and salt, cover again, and let simmer 2-4 minutes until tender.

Uncover, let any excess liquid simmer off, and sprinkle liberally with pepper before serving.

Pan-fried Garbanzos with Peppers and Greens

By all rights, this should have been a disaster. Bok choy and garbanzo beans clearly don't mix, and I honestly don't understand my fascination with saffron or my inability to keep from throwing it into dishes in which it obviously does not belong. And yet instead of being disastrous, this dish turned out surprisingly well, and even bordered on addictive. Which actually probably explains my obsession with saffron...I tend to throw it in when it a dish is already moving in bizarre directions, and then when it turns out, I associate the resulting deliciousness with the pinch of fiery red strands I couldn't help but toss into the pan.

Serve this over black Forbidden rice or brown jasmine rice.

Ingredients
Olive oil
1 can garbanzo beans, drained and rinsed
A couple generous sprinklings of black mustard seeds
A pinch of saffron, crumbled
1-2 bell peppers (white, red, purple, green, whatever), halved and sliced
1 jalapeno, thinly sliced
1 large clove garlic, pressed
2-4 heads of bok choy, sliced crosswise into one-inch pieces
1/4-1/2 cup veggie broth
Salt & freshly ground black pepper

Heat a generous glug of olive oil in a large, wide pan over high heat. When hot, add the garbanzos and shake the pan to coat them with olive oil. Let sit for a minute, then shake again. Wait until a few start to pop, shake to stir, and wait again, adding a little more olive oil if necessary to keep the bottom of the pan coated. After several minutes, they should start to turn a little golden brown.

Next, add the mustard seeds and saffron, stir a few times, then add the peppers and cook, stirring, for a minute or two. Turn the heat down and add the garlic, wait a few seconds, then stir to combine. Add the bok choy, a pinch of salt, and 1/4 cup of broth, cover the pan, and let the greens steam for a minute or two until you can get a spatula under them to mix them in with the garbanzos. If the pan is dry, add a little more broth, stir, and cover to steam again for another minute or until greens have started to wilt. Uncover, stir-fry for another minute or so, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and serve.

Serves 2-3.

Eggplant with Curry and Cilantro

I tend to be ambivalent about big purple eggplants -- on the one hand, they're so delightfully purple, and can sometimes taste wonderful grilled. On the other hand, I find it suspicious and worrying when vegetables bite back. Japanese eggplants and other smaller varieties lack the bitterness and tough skins of their fat purple cousins, and often seem more buttery and flavorful, and are especially addictive in curries or (in this case) recipes vaguely inspired by the notion of a curry.

Ingredients
Eggplant (We used three smallish purple-and-white ones, which may have been an Italian variety called Listada de Gandia, but Japanese eggplant would certainly work here and a regular eggplant might too)
Olive oil
A little chopped yellow onion
A scattering of black mustard seeds
Small spoonful of good-quality curry powder
A few thin slices of fresh ginger, julienned
Small handful of cilantro, chopped
Splash of cream (optional)

Cut the eggplants into pieces (if you're using a smaller variety, try cutting them in half lengthwise and then (still lengthwise) into half again or wedges, then turn 180 degrees and slice into one-inch pieces).

Heat the olive oil in a pot over medium heat, add the mustard seeds and then the onion, and saute until soft. Push to the side of the pan, add a little olive oil to the opposite side, and turn up the heat a bit. Add the curry powder to the olive oil and stir a few times to toast, then combine with the onion. Add the ginger and a pinch of salt, stir once or twice, then add the eggplant and a little more olive oil if the pot has gotten dry. Stir and saute for a minute or two, then add a little water (a quarter cup or less), stir, cover, and turn the heat down to medium or medium-low. Simmer for 3-8 minutes, stirring from time to time and adding a little more water if needed, until the eggplant is soft but not mushy. Add the cilantro when it's almost cooked through.

Turn off the heat, add just a small splash of cream if desired, and serve hot.

Serves 2.

Carrots with Cumin and Mustard Seeds

I have this pet suspicion that anyone who says they don't really like vegetables must be thinking of the boiled, steamed, or canned variety.

As soon as you toss a carrot or bean or zucchini in some olive oil and put it over high enough heat to start browning, transubstantiatory and addictive things start to happen. We've definitely tucked away a full pan of oven-roasted root vegetables in a single evening between the two of us, and a single vegetable cooked on the stovetop really doesn't stand a chance of making it to the leftover phase. So if you feel a certain dispassionate aloofness toward the carrot, try cooking this. It may be that underneath your calm and cool exterior, you love them, deeply and madly.

Ingredients
Carrots (preferably fresh, carroty ones from a farmer's market or CSA box), cut into sticks
Olive oil
A spoonful of black mustard seeds
A small spoonful of cumin seeds
 



Heat the olive oil in a pan over medium-high heat. When hot, add the mustard and cumin seeds, stir once, and add the carrots. Use tongs to toss the carrots with the seeds until they are evenly coated, then add a tbsp or so of water, cover the pan, and turn the heat to medium.






Continue cooking, adding a spoonful of water from time to time if the pan gets too dry and turning the carrots occasionally, until they're just tender and starting to caramelize a nice goldeny brown color on the bottom (you'll want to adjust the heat up if they don't seem to be browning, and down if they start to brown too quickly). Sprinkle with a pinch of salt, and serve.

Soba Noodles with Luffa Squash

This is one of those everything-but-the-kitchen sink recipes that can be made with whatever you have on hand. Luffa squash appeared in our CSA box this week, but Japanese eggplant would make a good substitute. If you have spinach or Chinese cabbage, chop some and throw it in. If you don't have curry leaves, add a bit more ginger and cilantro to keep it flavorful; if you don't have cilantro, increase or substitute something else. In other words, adjust all proportions to taste and switch things out for whatever strikes your fancy. But definitely call it Luffa Noodles at least once, out loud, because you'll feel instantly and delightfully transported into the midst of a Dr. Seuss book. (It really can't be helped. Consider: If you quickly turn the corner near the farthest side of town/and follow Horton's footprints down the block and then around/the Christmas-stealing Grinch who sometimes suntans on his stoop/you can often join the Lorax for some Luffa Noodle Soup.)

Ingredients
2/3 package soba noodles (typically, two of the three bundles in a package)
1/2 large yellow onion, chopped
Several fresh curry leaves
A spoonful of black mustard seeds A spoonful of good-quality medium curry powder
A few thin slices of fresh ginger, julienned
2 luffa squash, peeled and cubed (you can also cook it without peeling it, but we decided we liked it a little better without)

Luffa Squash

Some shiitake mushrooms (or oyster, or enoki), brushed and cut into wide slices
A few long beans, cut into 1-inch pieces
1 cup chicken or veggie broth
1 egg
Freshly ground black pepper
Small handful cilantro leaves, coarsely chopped
A handful of pea shoots or bean sprouts, for garnish

Boil the noodles one minute less than directed on the package, drain, and set aside.

Heat some olive oil in a big pan over medium-high heat. Add the curry leaves and mustard seeds and stir for 15-20 seconds, then add the onion and cook until soft, turning the heat down to medium. Push onion to the side of the pan, add a bit more olive oil on the other side, then add a spoonful of curry powder to the oil, stirring to toast for a few seconds. Combine with the onion, add the ginger and saute for a minute, then add any vegetables that take a little longer to cook (the luffa squash, in this case). Stir and cook for awhile, covering the pan if it starts to dry out to create a little more liquid (you can also sprinkle a little salt on the vegetables to encourage them to release a little water). After awhile, add the mushrooms and beans, and continue cooking until tender. Sprinkle with some chopped cilantro and pepper, and turn off the heat.

Meanwhile, in a small pot, heat the chicken broth until it simmers. Add the soba noodles, bring back to a simmer, and then add the egg to the center of the pot. Turn off the heat, and fold a few noodles over the egg so that it's immersed. After 30 seconds or so, stir to break the yolk and let it cook into the broth.

Serve in layers: Noodles, then veggies, and top with a few sprouts and a bit more cilantro if desired.

Green Beans with Caramelized Onion

We found a big bunch of purplish green beans in our produce box last week, and they turned out to be much heartier and less watery (and also slightly fuzzier) than the typical supermarket variety. I'm not particularly a fan of boiled or steamed green beans...they get all soft and bland and squeaky...but I love them sauteed or stir-fried so that they start to get a little sweet on the outside but still stay firm and beany. This version was easy and delicious.

Ingredients
Olive oil
A little chopped onion
Spoonful black mustard seeds
A bunch of green beans
A little chicken broth

Saute the onion in some olive oil over medium heat until soft and sweet. Add the mustard seeds and stir a few times, then add the green beans and a little more olive oil. Toss the beans with the onions, then cover and cook for a couple minutes. Uncover, toss again, add a bit of chicken broth (enough to create some steam). Cover, turn the heat down a little, and steam for a few minutes until they're just tender but not yet soft. If there's extra liquid in the pan, turn the heat back up and simmer uncovered for a few more moments. Serve hot.

Chickpea Curry with Squash and Cabbage

Found in our CSA box last weekend: tinda squash and chinese cabbage, and a recommendation to make a curry. So we did.

Serve this over some Bhutanese red rice or brown basmati rice cooked with some cumin seeds, a pinch of saffron, and a couple lightly crushed cardamom pods. (Heat a little olive oil in a pot until very hot, add the cumin seeds and stir a couple times, then add the saffron and cardamom pods, then the rice, stirring to coat the grains. Then, add the water and cook as you normally would.)

Ingredients
Olive oil
1/2 yellow onion, chopped
1 tsp black mustard seeds
A heaping spoonful of good-quality curry powder
1 tinda squash, scrubbed and cut into thin 1-inch strips (I removed the seeds as I went, since they seemed pretty tough, although I'm not sure if you have to)
Salt
1/4 tsp ground turmeric
Ground cumin
1 1/2 cups cooked chickpeas (or canned)
A little chopped spinach (frozen works fine)
A small bunch of Chinese cabbage, julienned, rinsed, and dried
A splash of cream
A little black pepper
Some chopped fresh cilantro

Heat olive oil in a large pan over high heat. Add the mustard seeds and stir a few times until they start to pop. Add onion and a pinch of salt and turn the heat down to medium-high. Saute until translucent, turning the heat down a little if necessary.

Push the onion to the side of the pan, turn the heat back up to medium-high, and add a little olive oil to the empty side. Add the curry powder to the olive oil and stir it in so that it toasts for 5-10 seconds, then stir into the onion. Add the tinda squash and cook, stirring, for a minute or two, then add the chickpeas, a pinch or two of salt, the turmeric, and a liberal sprinkling of cumin. After a minute more, add 1/4 cup of water and cover the pan. Turn the heat down to medium-low and let simmer for 10-20 minutes, adding more water if it starts to dry out, until the squash and chickpeas are tender. At some point, taste it and make sure it's flavorful -- if not, you might want to add some more curry powder. When it's almost done, add the spinach and cook for 2-3 more minutes.

Last, turn the heat back up to medium, stir in the cabbage, and cook for just a few moments until it starts to wilt. Turn the heat off, add the cream and a dash of pepper, and adjust salt and other seasonings to taste. Sprinkle with a little cilantro, and serve.

Serves 2.

Stir-fried Amaranth Greens with Toasted Almonds and Mustard Seeds

Easy and delicious (good for when you totally forgot the leafy green side dish till the last moment):

Ingredients
A couple handfuls amaranth greens, per person
1/4-1/2 tsp black and/or yellow mustard seeds, per person
1 tbsp sliced almonds, per person
Olive oil
Kosher salt

Toast almonds in a wide pan over medium-high heat, stirring or tossing frequently. Just as they begin to brown, add a tablespoon or two of olive oil and stir to coat, then immediately add the mustard seeds. Stir and fry for a few seconds, then add the amaranth greens. Cook for 2-3 minutes, stirring occasionally and pressing the leaves against the pan for a few seconds from time to time. Add a tablespoon or so of water, cover the pan, and let steam for few moments till the water evaporates, then uncover, sprinkle with a little salt, and serve.

Best. Chickpeas. Ever.

At some point last week, I decided it was about time to learn to soak my own beans. Now, if you've soaked beans before, you probably think this is about as momentous an announcement as someone declaring they've decided to stamp their own envelope in the old-fashioned, lick-it-yourself sort of way.

But, if you're like me and tend to assume beans grow in cans in the supermarket aisle, you may not yet know that home-soaked beans (or home-grown beans, as my husband dubbed them after noting that they grew to twice their initial size after soaking and had therefore been grown, in the home -- can't argue with that) are (a) simple to prepare (kind of embarrassingly simple, actually, in light of the fact that I had never considered doing it before), (b) way cheaper, especially for anyone moving their culinary practices in an eat-food-mostly-plants sort of direction, and (c) way tastier. This last one nobody told me, which has me slightly irked because I'm pretty sure I would have done this sooner if they had. Although maybe I wouldn't have believed it could make that much of a difference. But apparently home "grown" beans have an entirely different taste, and texture, than their canny canny cousins.

So, I soaked some cannellini beans last week, and got hooked, and yesterday morning found me trying my hand at chickpeas. Which were again incredibly easy. If (like me) you have no clue how to do this, here's a cheat sheet:
1. Rinse a bunch of dried chickpeas, checking through them carefully for stones
2. Throw in a pot of water (the water should be several inches above the beans, because they'll expand quite a bit), bring to a boil, and boil for two minutes
3. Turn off the heat and let them to soak for about two hours (you can also just let them soak in cold water overnight, instead)
4. Drain and rinse the beans, then add them back to the pot with some fresh water and a few whole peeled cloves of garlic, and simmer them for another 60-80 minutes until they're tender
5. Drain and stick in the fridge until you're ready to use them

6. Optional, but highly recommended: Make the following recipe. Which turned out to be...well, what the title says.

Ingredients
3 cups cooked chickpeas (soaked and cooked yourself, else canned)
1 Meyer lemon, zested and cut in half
2 cloves garlic, pressed
Salt & pepper
Ñora pepper (optional)
1 yellow onion, chopped
3/4 cup black Forbidden rice (could substitute brown basmati rice & adjust the cooking time)
Saffron threads
Scant 1/2 tsp cumin seeds (or two generous pinches)
Scant 1/2 tsp yellow mustard seeds (or two generous pinches)
1/4 cup broth or water
3/4 cups cooked chopped spinach (frozen works: thaw for 2 minutes in the microwave and then drain. If fresh, blanch, drain, then chop)
1/4 tsp ground turmeric
Aleppo or other hot pepper, to taste
Pinch or two ground cumin
Pinch or two sweet paprika


Whisk the juice of half the lemon with a generous glug of olive oil in a bowl. Add the garlic, a pinch of salt, and some black pepper and ñora pepper if you have it. Add the chickpeas, stir to coat, and marinate in the fridge for about half an hour.

Saute about a quarter of the chopped onion in a small pot over medium heat until it softens. Add the black rice and a pinch of saffron and cook, stirring, for a minute or two, then add a little less than one cup of water. Cover, bring to a boil, then turn heat down and simmer for 20 minutes or until done. (If there is extra liquid left at the end, uncover, turn heat to medium, and cook for another minute, stirring to evaporate the water.)

Meanwhile, heat about 2 tbsp olive oil in a wide pan over medium-high heat. When hot, add the cumin and mustard seeds and toast until they start to pop (about 10-20 seconds). Immediately add the rest of the onion and cook, stirring, for several minutes. Just as it starts to brown, add the chickpeas (and a little more olive oil if it's too dry) and cook, stirring occasionally, for about 3 more minutes.

Next, add the spinach, turmeric, a pinch or two of salt, pepper, and Aleppo. Cook, stirring, for a few more minutes, adding the broth as it starts to get dry. (Depending on how cooked your chickpeas were to begin with, you may want to cover the pan and let it simmer for a couple minutes at this point.)

Add the cooked rice, stir, and cook for a minute or two until heated through. Then dust with a bit of cumin and just a little paprika. Add the lemon zest, cook for about 30 more seconds, and then turn off the heat. Cover pan and let sit for 10 minutes to blend the flavors. Adjust salt and pepper to taste.

Serve hot or at room temperature, garnished with a lemon wedge. Goes well with roasted carrots with cumin seeds (below).

Serves 3-4 (or 2 for dinner with some leftovers)

Soft Set Eggs with Shiitake Mushrooms and Amaranth Greens

Found at the coop: Amaranth greens. No idea what to do with these. The internets suggested something called callaloo soup, which was great fun to say, repeatedly (go on, you know you want to try it), but which was accompanied by some greenish-gray pictures that didn't look particularly appetizing. The next meal was breakfast, so we thought we'd put them in an omelette and see what happened (only we like revueltos, or Spanish soft set eggs, better than omelettes, so that's what this is).

Ingredients
Olive oil
1/2 tsp black mustard seeds
1/2 green bell pepper, chopped
3-4 scallions, sliced
1 clove garlic, pressed
4 shiitake mushrooms, sliced
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
A few shakes of crushed ñora pepper
Coarsely chopped amaranth greens (about 2 cups, or a little more)
4 pastured chicken eggs

Break the eggs into a bowl, leaving the yolks whole. You can make this with two whole eggs and two egg whites, or all whole eggs.

Heat a little olive oil in a nonstick pan over medium heat. Add the mustard seeds and toast for 10-15 seconds, stirring, then add the pepper and scallion and cook for about 2 more minutes. Add the garlic, saute for another minute, then add the mushrooms, salt, black pepper, and ñora pepper. Cook until the mushrooms just start to release a little liquid, then add the amaranth greens and saute until just wilted.

Pour in the eggs, turn heat down to medium low, and slowly stir the eggs in with the vegetables. They should set softly as you stir. I like to break one yolk, stir once and wait for a moment, then break the next. You want the white and yellow to still be distinct when it's done.

After a minute or two, the eggs will have set. Serve hot.

Serves 2 for breakfast.

Purslane with Sweet Onions

One day last week, while perusing our Coop's vegetable aisle and pining after the now-absent baby rainbow chard, my eyes fell on a bunch of some weedy looking thing I'd never seen before. A little detective work with the signs above (not purple kale, because it's not purple...not carrots, because I definitely know what those look like) suggested the mystery vegetable was purslane. I had no idea what purslane was, although it sounded vaguely familiar. (Turns out this is because Michael Pollan mentions it in passing as an example of how wild foods are often very healthy, which, apparently, purslane is.) But something about the way the tips of the weedy little sprigs jutted forward looked like a challenge. I will buy you, I said to them, hopefully under my breath although in retrospect, one never can be sure. I will buy you, and I will cook you. I fixed the stems with a steely gaze.

The problem, it turned out, when Phase I of my two-part plan (the buying of the purslane) had been completed, was that nobody seemed to know how to cook purslane (which was, if you recall, the crucial Phase II). I could find recipes online for salads and some people suggested using it on sandwiches, but I had distinctly (and hopefully silently) sworn to cook it, and a salad seemed like wimping out. Also, it tasted citrusy, almost sour, and I thought it might need something sweet to balance the flavor. So:

Ingredients
Olive oil
1 large onion, halved and sliced into thin half-rings
1 bunch purslane, washed
Salt & pepper, to taste

Heat olive oil in a wide pan over medium-high heat. Add onion rings and saute until golden and sweet-smelling, turning down the heat a little if necessary to avoid too much browning (although a little bit browned is perfect).

Meanwhile, cut the bottom 1/2 inch or so off the purslane stems, and then chop coarsely (I left it as a bunch and just sliced in one-inch intervals).

When the onions are carmelized, turn the heat back to medium-high and add the purslane.

Stir-fry for a minute or two, until the leaves just begin to wilt, add salt and pepper, and serve.


The citrusy taste of the purslane goes particularly well with salmon -- for dinner that night, we covered a piece of wild salmon with black mustard seeds and a few curry leaves, pan-fried it, then served over a bed of wild rice cooked with some chopped shallot: