Grapefruits, Toni Morrison, and being forgetful at the grocery store

The challenge of a weekly CSA delivery in my opinion is using up all the produce thoughtfully before the next delivery happens. I like this part and that's why I like getting weekly surprise produce.

This week I got grapefruits alongside the kale and carrots and apples and such. Every time I think about grapefruits I think about the book Tar Baby by Toni Morrison, specifically a scene where Margaret and Valerian, a married couple who own a particularly nice home on a Caribbean island called L'Arbe de la Croix, are eating breakfast:

Sydney returned with a bowl of crushed ice in which a mango stood. The peeling had been pulled back from the shiny fruit in perfect curls. The slits along the pulp were barely visible. Valerian yawned behind his fist, then said, "Sydney, can I or can I not order a cup of coffee and get it?"

"Yes sir. 'Course you can." He put down the mango and filled Valerian's cup.

"See, Margaret. And there's your mango. Four hundred and twenty-five calories."

"What about your croissant?"

"One twenty-seven."

"God." Margaret closed her eyes, her blue-if-it's-a-boy-eyes and put down her fork.

"Have a grapefruit."

"I don't want grapefruit. I want mango."

Valerian shrugged. "Slurp away. But you had three helpings of mousse last night."

"Two, I had two. Jade had three."

"Oh, well, only two ..."

"Well, what do we have a cook for? Even I can slice grapefruit."

"To wash the dishes."

"What dishes? According to you, all I need is a teaspoon."

"Well, someone has to wash your teaspoon."

"And your shovel."

"Funny. Very funny."

I read Tar Baby when I was fourteen. I think my older sister read it for English class a couple of years prior to that and I picked it up off the shelf where it lived next to all the other assigned readings (Scarlet Letter, To Kill A Mockingbird, that sort of thing). I've always been an avid reader, but Tar Baby was the first book I had actual trouble putting down. There were some parts that made me uncomfortable: depictions of fear, anger, intrusion, hints of violence and intimidation, far more latent commentary on racial tension than my teenaged brain could not fully absorb or parse, and yet I couldn't stop reading. For some reason, my primary associations with the book are corduroy ("the swish of cloth - corduroy against corduroy or denim against denim - the sound only a woman's thighs could make"), peppermint (after the candy that bore the character Valerian's name), grapefruit, and Paris (Jadine modeled there before heading to the Caribbean).

So what did I do with the grapefruit from my CSA? Well, I ate one of them for a snack at work and decided that meant I should use the other one in a non-breakfast setting.

I turned to Mark Bittman, whose fantastic app "How to Cook Everything Vegetarian" is among the very best apps I've ever spent money on. I typed in the ingredient "grapefruit" and came up with a good number of options. I settled on the following:

Jean‐Georges's Rice Noodle Salad with Grapefruit and Peanuts
By Mark Bittman
(From the How to Cook Everything Vegetarian for iPhone^® app)

Introduction:
This is an adaptation of a recipe from my first book with Jean‐Georges Vongerichten, Cooking at Home with A Four‐Star Chef. Here cold rice noodles are spiked with grapefruit, peanuts, vegetables, herbs, and spices to make a flavor‐packed salad in which the whole is greater than the sum of its parts but individual flavors remain distinct.

Use a couple of oranges, tangerines, or even peeled and sliced fresh plums or peaches in place of the grapefruit if you like.

Ingredients:

• 1 or 2 small fresh chiles, minced, or about 1 teaspoon hot red pepper flakes, or to taste
• 1 clove garlic, finely minced
• 1 tablespoon packed brown sugar
• About ¼ cup freshly squeezed lime juice
• 2 tablespoons soy sauce
• 8 ounces rice vermicelli
• 1 stalk lemongrass
• 1 large grapefruit, peeled, sectioned, and chopped
• ½ cup chopped roasted peanuts
• 1 medium to large ripe tomato, peeled, cored, seeded, and chopped
• 3 scallions, minced
• ⅓ cup coarsely chopped fresh mint leaves
• ½ cup coarsely chopped fresh cilantro leaves

Steps:

1. In a small bowl, combine the chiles, garlic, sugar, lime juice, and soy sauce. Taste and adjust the seasoning. (This dressing may be prepared a day or two in advance; if anything, its flavor will improve.)
2. Soak the rice noodles in fairly hot water (about 120°F, just too hot to touch) for 10 to 20 minutes, or until soft. Meanwhile, set a large pot of water to boil. Trim the stalk of lemongrass and peel off enough layers to expose its tender core. Finely mince enough to make about 1 tablespoon.
3. Mix the grapefruit, ⅓ cup of the peanuts, the tomato, scallions, mint, ⅓ cup of the cilantro, and the lemongrass together in a large bowl.
4. Drain the noodles and plunge them into the boiling water. When the water returns to a boil, drain the noodles and rinse in a colander under cold running water until cooled. Drain well, then toss in the large bowl with the grapefruit mixture and the dressing.
5. Divide the salad among serving bowls, garnish with the remaining cilantro and peanuts, and serve.

I started making this tonight and realized that I had no rice noodles. I'd been to the store no fewer than three times in the past week and had forgotten each time to pick some up. I wanted to smack myself on the forehead, but I'd just chopped up a jalapeno and thought it wise not to risk getting jalapeno in my eye (right?). I made the executive decision to continue fixing dinner, but instead of rice noodles, I grated up some rainbow carrots (hooray, CSA rainbow carrots!) and chopped up a cucumber to round things out. I also added some crumbled tofu to my leftovers; it will marinate overnight and be delicious for lunch tomorrow at work.

So, no noodles in the following pictures. Oh well. It was a pretty tasty dish, though if you're not into grapefruit, by all means, don't add it. It's a prominent flavor to say the least. I added more green onions than the recipe called for, and put a dash of sriracha on the finished product as I ate it.


Done with the dressing; on to the salad part ...

 

Rainbow carrots from my CSA added crunch and color:

Finished salad. Success in the face of forgetfulness.

On kiwifruit

Ah, kiwi. Exotic green insides and foreboding fuzzy outsides. Brightens a fruit salad so well. My CSA deliveries for the past two weeks have included kiwis and so I've been eating them here and there - on their own (peeled), and in a smoothie or two (again, peeled). They are quite tasty, I must say, but it turns out that they make my lips go numb! I seem to be kiwi averse! Numb, prickly lips after eating fruit seems unusual, no?

I don't remember ever having had a problem with kiwis before, but admittedly, I don't generally buy them, preferring apples, stone fruit, and berries, but nevertheless I was surprised by the experience.  

Anyway, please note that I am not attempting to cultivate an eclectic food allergy or anything: I'd just as soon go out and eat kiwi with girlish abandon. I have it on good authority, however, that I should probably steer clear of them, so ... well, sorry kiwi.

Kale, chickpea and tamarind stew

Here's another delicious recipe from Yotam Ottolenghi, whose column (The New Vegetarian) ran in the Guardian for a few years. It remains one of my favorite spaces to read about food, and I'm pleased that so many of his non-vegan dishes work very well with a few veganizing tweaks.

I fixed up a batch of this swiss chard, chickpea and tamarind stew yesterday, using kale in place of chard because my CSA delivery this week included a big bunch of tasty-looking kale. I confess that I'm not quite as "sold" on kale as some folks ... I find it quite tough compared to spinach (or even chard), and even though it is sometimes billed as the remedy for all that ails mankind, I don't cook with it all that often. I have been trying to be a bit more open-minded, though, and one thing I've learned is that I prefer it cooked to raw. That's just me, obviously. To each his/her own.

I love this stew because it's simple, and apart from sorting out a particularly integral but unique ingredient (tamarind paste), it practically makes itself. It's filling, healthy, wonderfully flavorful, and quick.

I made a couple of substitutions, which I've called out in parentheses here:

Yotam Ottolenghi's swiss chard, chickpea and tamarind stew
Recipe found here

4 tbsp seedless tamarind (I used about 3 tbsp of tamarind chutney, purchased at Whole Foods)
400g swiss chard (stems and leaves), cut into 1cm slices (I used kale from my CSA)
1 medium onion, thinly sliced
2 tsp whole caraway seeds
1½ tbsp olive oil, plus extra to drizzle
1 tsp tomato paste
400g tinned plum tomatoes, chopped up, juice and all
350ml water
1½ tbsp caster sugar (I skipped the sugar)
400g cooked chickpeas (I used a can of chickpeas, drained and rinsed)
1½ tsp whole coriander seeds, toasted and ground to a powder (I used pre-ground from a jar)
Salt and black pepper
Juice of 1 lemon
200g Greek yogurt (optional)
1 big handful coriander leaves (I skipped, but might've used cilantro if I'd had some around)

For rice
350g short-grain rice (I used brown long-grain and cooked according to package directions)
20g butter (I used Earth Balance)
700ml water

Whisk the tamarind with a little bit of warm water until it dissolves into a paste. Set aside. Bring a medium pot of salted water to the boil, blanch the chard for two minutes and drain.

Put the onion, caraway and olive oil in a large, heavy-based pan and sauté over medium heat for 10 minutes, until the onion is soft and golden. Add the tomato paste and cook, stirring, for about a minute. Add the tomatoes, water, sugar, chickpeas, ground coriander and chard, and season. Strain the tamarind water through a small sieve straight into the pot. Bring to a boil, cover and simmer for 30 minutes, by which time it should be the consistency of thick soup. Adjust by adding water or by cooking uncovered to allow the liquid to evaporate. Taste, and adjust seasoning.

While the stew is cooking, put the rice, butter and a pinch of salt in a medium pan. Over medium heat, stir to coat the rice with melted butter, add the water and bring to a boil. Cover with a tight lid and simmer on a low flame for 15-20 minutes. Remove from the heat and set aside, still covered, for five more minutes.

To serve, spoon the rice into shallow soup bowls, then make a crater in the centre of each mound. Add the lemon juice to the stew, stir and pour a ladle or two into the rice crater. Spoon yogurt on top, if you like, drizzle with oil and finish with lots of coriander.


A photo of the vegetable prep. I just love the way red onions look when chopped! I quickly realized that just ripping the big, stalky kale leaves was much quicker, by the way.

This is my answer to tamarind paste, found during a fruitless search for tamarind paste at Whole Foods. This brand contains a tamarind, cumin, cardamom, coriander, fenugreek, lemon, and many more things. Basically, it's delicious, less work than fussing with tamarind paste and really makes the stew. Might not be the easiest thing to find, admittedly ...

 

I had a slight coriander fail during the production of this meal ... I learned several things in the process: 1. I had forgotten to pre-blanch the greens, 2. I should've used a bigger pot, 3. I should concentrate more when adding things to an over-full pot. Oh well.

  

Thankfully, despite not blanching the kale at the beginning, it all cooked down pretty quickly. I added a few minutes of cooking time to the stew overall to make sure the greens were tender enough. 

 

My CSA this week also included lemons! So I was happy to have fresh, tasty ones on hand for the "add the lemon juice to the stew" part. 

 

Finished stew over rice. Yum. 

Ratatouille

When I made the decision a few months ago to eat mostly vegan food, I knew that I'd need to source new recipes and modify some that were already in my rotation. I almost never follow recipes exactly, generally out of laziness or some secret finickiness that I must have somewhere, but I try not to deviate from a new recipe too seriously the first time I make it. Enter this ratatouille recipe. Definitely my favorite new-to-me recipe, it hails from the gorgeous cookbook "Plenty", by Yotam Ottolenghi, who writes The New Vegetarian column here for The Guardian and owns a couple of restaurants/delis in London - I'm 62% sure I passed the Kensington location once while wandering around the area on a visit, but perhaps the building just looks similar to something else I'm remembering ... or perhaps I'm just wistfully wishing I could teleport ...

 

I learned while researching this post that in addition to being an accomplished chef and author of enviably good cookbooks, Mr. Ottolenghi has a master's degree in comparative literature. I enjoy this fact because I do too! And from time to time I feel a pang of something resembling sadness about the fact that I didn't end up continuing for a PhD or following a traditional academic career track. I wouldn't say that it keeps me up at night, but I think about it a bit and I felt a happy kinship upon learning more about Ottolenghi's background. It makes me less inclined to lament the basic inertia which is the modern office, and more inclined to be grateful that I ended up with a pretty good job and a fantastic recipe for ratatouille.  

 

Anyway, back to the recipe. It really is a good one. And I would recommend trying to stick closely to it (my small swaps are noted below). There is something to the combination of vegetables and order of cooking that really just makes it all sublime and magical.

 

Ottolenghi has the following to say about the dish:

 

Although I call this ratatouille the name doesn't do it any justice, as this is the most magnificently delicious dish, nothing like the drab pile of limb zucchini I'd normally associate with the name. I was given the recipe by Tamara Meitlis, a friend and a wise cook who would tell you - and I can't agree more here - to get all your vegetables prep done before you start cooking. I also advise you to follow the instructions closely; overcooking the vegetables is exactly the point here.

 

Also, this yields a TON of ratatouille. I made a half recipe yesterday and still ended up with about four generous servings. I am excited about the ample leftovers.

 

Rataouille (from Yotam Ottolenghi's Plenty)

 

Serves 6

7 tbsp sunflower oil (I used much less - probably 3-4 tbsp of oil)

2 small onions, cut into 1 1/4 inch dice

4 garlic cloves, sliced (I confess - I use 6!)

1/2 fresh green chili, thinly sliced

2 small red peppers, cut into a 1 1/2 inch dice

1/2 small butternut squash, peeled and cut into a 1 1/4 inch dice

1 small parsnip, peeled and cut into a 1 1/4 inch dice

1 cup french beans, trimmed

1 medium zucchini, cut into 1 1/4 inch dice

1/2 large eggplant, peeled and cut into 1 1/4 inch dice

1 small potato, peeled and cut into a 1 1/4 inch dice

2 medium tomatoes, peeled and chopped

1/2 tbsp sugar (I skip the sugar)

1 tbsp tomato paste

salt and black pepper

1 cup water

chopped cilantro to garnish (optional)

 

Pour two-thirds of the oil into a large heavy casserole dish or a pot and place on a medium-high heat. Add the onions and fry for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Next, stir in the garlic, chili and red peppers and fry for another 5 minutes. Add the squash and parsnip and continue frying for 5 minutes.

Using a slotted spoon, lift the vegetables out of the pot and into a medium bowl, leaving as much of the oil in the pot as possible. Top this up with remaining oil. Add the French beans, zucchini and eggplant to the hot oil and fry for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.

 

Return the contents of the bowl to the pot. Add the potato, tomatoes, sugar, tomato paste and plenty of salt and pepper. Stir well, then pour in the water. Cover with a lid and leave to simmer gently for 30 minutes. Taste the vegetables and add more salt and pepper, if you like.

 

Finally, preheat the oven to 400 F. Use a slotted spoon to gently lift the vegetables from the pot and into a large, deep roasting pan to make a layer about 1 1/4 inches thick. Pour the liquid over the vegetables and place in the oven to cook for 30 minutes. At this point all the vegetables should be very soft and most of the liquid evaporated. Garnish with cilantro, if you like, and serve.

 

(Note: I have made this a few times and sometimes need to leave in the oven longer to make sure all water is evaporated - usually around 45 minutes, but I keep a close eye on it)

 

 

Prepping vegetables ...

 

 

Just about to put everything in the oven ...

 

Final product, served with a flashy sprig of cilantro and a wisp of steam.

Drinking of the green! ... and vegan coconut-cinnamon-cocoa pudding

Happy St. Patrick's Day to all. I celebrated early last night and turned some white wine into green wine using food coloring. Sláinte! Thus, as tipsy boys in sparkly green top hats roam the streets looking for girls in shamrock-printed tutus and green plastic beads (... and vice versa) I'll be sipping a bit of local wine turned festive.

Unrelated to St. Patrick's Day, but related to this weekend, I fixed up a tasty vegan pudding out of coconut milk last night. I added cinnamon and Dutch cocoa powder, and managed not to eat it all at once (though I'm sure I could've!).

Vegan coconut milk pudding with cocoa & cinnamon

Makes about 2 cups

16 oz can coconut milk (I used the "lite" kind)

3 tbsp corn starch

1/8 c. agave nectar, or to taste (could also use 1/4 c. brown sugar)

1 tbsp cinnamon

1/4 c. Dutch cocoa powder (regular unsweetened cocoa would work too)

Whisk all ingredients together in a saucepan over medium-low heat. Whisk constantly until mixture begins to thicken (4-6 minutes). Continue to whisk as mixture thickens (another 2 minutes or so?) being careful not to burn it. Transfer to bowl and cool to room temperature. Refrigerate until cool; several hours or overnight. Enjoy with or without green wine.

Afghan food or something allegedly like it

This week I tried fixing Afghan* food and it turned out really well! Or at least it was really delicious. Saying it turned out "well" might suggest that what I made was tasty AND authentic, something I can't really confirm. Tasty, yes, authentic ... who knows. The closest I've been to Afghanistan is India, and even though it's only 800 or so miles away, there's a lot of difference (and a lot of Pakistan) between those two places.

 

Why Afghan food? Here's a chart I made to explain:

 

Require further explanation? Fair enough. I made that chart in about 30 seconds and it kind of makes no sense. Here goes. This all started five years ago. I worked in Seattle's Ballard neighborhood at that time and one of my favorite lunchtime haunts was a place called the Patty Pan Grill. This brick & mortar iteration of Seattle's oldest farmer's market concession (long before food trucks were hip, I believe) was the site of many a really good vegetarian or vegan lunch long before I was really trying to eat much vegan food. Their veggie yakisoba noodles and delicious signature spicy red chile sauce were affordable, cooked to order, and really just very fabulous. I get a little nostalgic and quite hungry thinking about their phenomenal root vegetable quesadillas, especially on very gloomy-rainy workdays. Sadly, the PPG (as my coworkers and I called it) no longer has a permanent location in Ballard, but I still get to eat the aforementioned treats from time to time, which is pretty amazing indeed.

 

(I promise I'm getting to the Afghan food part.)

 

General love for the PPG was well-understood by several coworkers and one day someone gave me a copy of PPG owner/founder Devra Gartenstein's book "The Accidental Vegan". This book sat on my shelf through two moves and numerous attempts at feng shui, and finally I took it out and read through it about two months ago (around the time I decided to try eating mostly vegan food). I tried several of the recipes, including one for Afghan Stew. I liked the stew well enough, but didn't think it was amazing. It made me more curious about Afghan food in general, though. (Italicized for emphasis).

 

So, this week, a friend of mine visited Seattle. She was staying in the University District and as I was trying to figure out where we should have dinner I remembered a place called Kabul, an Afghan restaurant in Wallingford (a neighborhood near the U-District) that I'd been wanting to try for some time. We went there on Tuesday night and had really spectacular dinner. I had the Qorma-i-Sabzi, which was a little bit like Indian saag, but a bit lighter/less creamy. My friend had Badenjan Bourani, which was really good, too. I'm not a major eggplant fan (neither am I a hater), but when it's done really well I am always happy to eat a ton of it.

 

Having thus sampled two dishes at an Afghan restaurant (and therefore basically now a world-renowned expert!) I decided to poke around the internet and see what sorts of things I could make at home. I had mint and carrots from my CSA to use up, and also had a butternut squash lying around that I wanted to do something different with.

 

First dish: my take on kaddo bourani, a pumpkin dish (kaddo = pumpkin). As I understand it, kaddo bourani generally involves meat and is finished with a yogurt sauce (bourani or borani refers to the yogurt sauce). I stuck to tomato sauce, adding lots of fresh mint at the beginning and end. It made enough for three big servings and I enjoyed each one. It's a delicious blend of sweet and savory and a fresh take on one of my very favorite winter vegetables.

 

Recipe: Afghan-inspired squash

Serves about 2-3 as main dish; 6 as a side

 

1 lb butternut squash, peeled and cut into 1-inch cubes

1 medium onion (I used a sweet yellow one), pureed in food processor

1 tbsp vegetable or olive oil

2-4 garlic cloves minced (your preference)

1 tbsp minced fresh ginger

1/2 tsp dried turmeric

2 tsp dried coriander

1 tsp chili powder (or more if you like)

3-4 tbsp tomato puree

1 cup water

1 tbsp agave nectar (could also use 3 tbsp sugar)

salt

bunch fresh mint

 

Heat oil in large skillet (a wok would work well; I don't have one, though). Add garlic and sautee for a minute or two. Add ginger, turmeric, coriander, chili powder, cook for 1 minute. Stir in onion puree and cook 8-10 minutes or until onion begins to turn golden.

 

Add tomato puree, agave nectar and water. Heat to boiling, stirring as needed.

 

Add a few teaspoons chopped mint and the squash. Stir a bit to incorporate. Reduce to simmer and cook for 25 minutes or until squash is tender. Check occasionally and add more water if needed as sauce reduces. Remove from heat. Garnish with remaining mint leaves and serve with flatbread, rice, quinoa, or equivalent.

 

 

Here's a shot of the squash being added to the pan:

 

 

 

The finished product would be divine over rice or quinoa, or with flatbread. Here's a close-up:

 

Another shot of the finished squash, served here with a bit of poached whitefish (not vegan, obviously):

 

For my second attempt at Afghan-inspired vegan food I fixed soup. I combined a few of the elements I found while googling "Afghan stew" and came up with something filling, simple, and delicious. It also gave me a chance to put this week's rainbow carrots to excellent use and to finish up the mint from this week's CSA as well. Aren't these rainbow carrots beautiful??

 

 

 

 

Recipe: Afghan-inspired stew 

Serves 4-6 and makes great leftovers

3 cloves garlic, minced

1 large onion, chopped into 1/2-inch pieces

2 tbsp dried marjoram

2 tbsp dried coriander

2 tsp dried mint - or - 2 tbsp chopped fresh mint if you can

1 tbsp vegetable oil

3 large carrots, chopped into 1-inch pieces

2 zucchini, chopped into 1-inch pieces

4-6 cups water (use more or less depending on how thick you want this. I used 4.)

3/4 c lentils (any kind is fine; I used red)

28 oz can chopped/diced tomatoes, not drained

1/8 c. low-sodium soy sauce

2 tsp dried dill weed

green onions for garnish (optional)

 

Add vegetable oil to large pot (12 quart or thereabouts) and heat to medium high. Add minced garlic and cook for about a minute. Add onions and dried marjoram, coriander and mint, stirring. Cook for about a minute until fragrant. Add carrots, zucchini and 1/2-1 c. water. Cook over medium heat for about 10 minutes until vegetables soften and begin to brown.

 

Add remaining water, lentils, tomatoes, soy sauce and dried dill weed. Cover and bring to a boil, then reduce to simmer and cook for an hour until lentils are softened, stirring occasionally. Serve with green onions as garnish, or if you like, with a bit of Greek yogurt or sour cream atop.

 

 

Here's a picture of the veg (note the rainbow of carrots!) cooking in 1/2 cup water:

 

 

 

Here's a shot of the finished soup as I'm about to dig into it:

 

*I wondered as I wrote this if I shouldn't call it "Afghani" food. Internet to the rescue. I turned to a 2001 article in Slate magazine from to settle this. It should be Afghan. Says Slate. Good enough for me and my humble blog post, but I'll freely admit that I may be getting it all very wrong. Such is life. Apologies if I'm completely wrong.

CSA, week two

As I prepared to pick up my second CSA delivery today I took a look at what was left from last week's box and saw this:

 

 

Apparently I am not much for pears. I confess, pears just aren't my thing. I do like red pears well enough; not quite sure what the difference is, but life is funny like this. So I took the four pears to work and distributed them amongst grateful coworkers who think I'm crazy for not liking pears.

 

My day was hectic and full of long meetings. I was about to head home and nearly forgot to pick up my surprise fruit & vegetable box for the week! Forgetting would've meant missing out on the following delights:

 

Romaine lettuce

A bunch of radishes

Oranges

Apples

Red pears (allowing me the opportunity to redeem myself in the eyes of pear fans)

Rainbow carrots (!)

Fresh mint



So ... off to brainstorm and cook!