Soup from the Late Autumn Market Pantry: Cabbage & White Bean with Root Vegetables

Last Sunday we woke up to what seemed like the umpteenth day in a row of gray skies.  I love gray days...but they had been around for so long at that point that even I was tired of them.  I just wanted to hole up in the house with a book....and put on a big pot of soup for dinner.  I didn't even want to go to the store, so whatever soup I made had to be something that could be made with things I had on hand.

Fortunately, my pantry is well-stocked with winter storage vegetables from my famers' market right now.  Cabbage, turnips, sweet potatoes, winter squash, onions, garlic, leeks...  Not to mention my regular staples of cured meats (bacon/pancetta, prosciutto/ham)....and a couple varieties of dried beans.   I even had some stock on hand.  (Although, I am not afraid to make my soups with water, so lack of stock would not have been a deal breaker...I would have just added more onion and/or leek to the soup.) Knowing I had the makings of soup on hand I decided to put some beans on to soak (using my modified quick soak method) and wait until later in the day to think about exactly what kind of soup I was going to make. 

As I considered what to make, the presence of the cabbage and dried beans in my stash put me in mind of a classic hearty soup-stew from the Southwest corner of France (the Landes, the Béarn and the Pyrénées) called Garbure.  In addition to cabbage and beans it typically includes one of the famed preserved meats of the region—duck, goose or pork confit, along with the gelatinous broth produced by the confit process (sometimes called "duck/goose jelly").  Unfortunately I don't live in the south of France so these things aren't to be found in my working pantry.  But rich meats and broths do not have to be included in a Garbure—there are many versions that are made with a simple broth or even a combination of water and broth.  The real hallmark of Garbure is the cabbage.

The remaining vegetables that are included in the soup are those that would be abundant on the farm during the winter months—leeks, onions, potatoes, turnips and carrots.  If you shop at your Farmers' market, these will be the things you will have too. 

Traditional versions of Garbure are said to be so thick that a wooden spoon or a ladle will stand erect when thrust into the center of the soup. This thick mixture is then ladled into individual bowls over slabs of brown bread (in much the same way Americans sometimes serve Ham & Bean soup ladled over a chunk of cornbread or a split biscuit). 

The soup I made for our dinner was much lighter and broth-y than these traditional Garbures.  I didn't add any starchy white potatoes, which tends to thicken a soup (and is particularly noticeable in successive reheats).  Furthermore, I added a higher proportion of liquids than is probably typical. 

The vegetables you use when you make Garbure are up to you...as long as they are winter vegetables.  I liked the idea of an all white/cream/pale yellow/pale green soup, so I didn't include any carrots...or orange sweet potatoes or winter squash.  All of these would be at home in this soup, but I happened to have some white sweet potatoes (Bonita) from my market, so I chose to use them and forged ahead with the idea of a monochromatic soup.  Potatoes would obviously have been fine, but as mentioned above they add thickness, and I really wanted a lighter soup.  I also added leeks and turnips (some lovely Goldball turnips...but classic white, purple top turnips would be fine). I could have included celery—adding them to the soup with the leeks and onions—but just chose not to.

As you can see, this is a homey, flexible soup.  For the given quantity of cabbage and beans, four or five cups of additional vegetables is about right.  Water/stock/bean cooking liquid can then be added to achieve the body and thickness that you prefer. 

After I made my soup I realized that it would make a perfect post-Thanksgiving soup... if you happened to be the one who roasted the bird.  Chunks of dark meat...along with a dose of any of the salty pan drippings left from the roasting process...would make fantastic stand-ins for the traditional duck or goose confit and accompanying "jelly." Unfortunately, it didn't fall to me to roast the turkey this year.  But I know it would be delicious, so I will have to keep it in mind for the next time it is my turn to host the big meal.  Cold, gray days...perfect for soup...are never in short supply in late November.    

Cabbage & White Bean Soup with Root Vegetables

2/3 cup (about 4 1/2 to 5 oz.) dried great northern beans, soaked (overnight or with quick soak method)

olive oil

2 cloves garlic, peeled

Several sprigs thyme

1 to 2 T. olive oil

2 oz. bacon (or salt pork), cut in a 1/4-inch dice

1 large or 2 small leeks—white and pale green parts only, halved, well-rinsed and cut in a 1/3-to 1/2-inch dice (about 1 1/2 to 1 3/4 cups)

2 cloves garlic, peeled and thinly sliced cross-wise

1/2 medium onion, diced (1 cup)

2/3 lb. turnip, peeled and cut in a 1/3- to 1/2-inch dice (2 cups)

2/3 lb. sweet potato (a "white" variety, if available), peeled and cut in a 1/3- to 1/2-inch dice (2 cups)

3/4 lb. wedge of cabbage, cored and cut into a rough 1/2-inch dice (3 cups)

4 c. Chicken Stock

2 c. Water

Olive oil

Finely minced flat leaf parsley

Drain and rinse the beans.  Place them in a large saucepan and cover with fresh water by 2 inches.  Bring to a boil.  Lower the heat and skim off the foam that has risen to the surface.  Add a generous drizzle of olive oil, the garlic and thyme.  Cook the beans at a gentle simmer, stirring occasionally, until the beans are tender.  Or, place the soaked, drained beans in a shallow gratin with the garlic and thyme.  Drizzle with the olive oil.  Cover with boiling water by an inch, cover the pan with a tight fitting lid, or a piece of foil.  Transfer to a 325° oven and bake until tender.  Whether you cook the beans on the stove top or in the oven, they will take about an hour and 15 minutes to cook.  Add salt to taste when the beans are half cooked.  Beans may be cooked ahead.  Cool the beans in their cooking liquid.

In a large stockpot, heat the olive oil over medium heat.  Add the bacon and cook until rendered and beginning to turn golden and crisp around the edges. Add the leeks, onions, and the garlic along with a pinch of salt and continue to cook until the vegetables have begun to soften—about 10 to 15 minutes.  (If you are adding any carrots or celery, add them with the leeks and onions.)

Add the turnip, sweet potatoes and cabbage and stir to coat in the fat and cooked vegetables.  Add a good pinch of salt and continue to cook, stirring occasionally until you can hear the vegetables sizzling and see that the cabbage has begun to wilt/soften.  Add the stock and enough water to just cover the vegetables—they should be snug, but move freely and easily when stirred.  In any case, the amount of liquid is up to you.  Use less water if you want thick, hearty soup and use more if you want a lighter, broth-y soup.  Be mindful that the cabbage will collapse a bit as it cooks. 

Bring the soup to a simmer.  Taste and season the soup with salt.  Cover the pot, leaving the lid slightly ajar.  Simmer, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are just tender—about 20 to 25 minutes.  Add the cooked beans with their liquid.  Return the soup to a gentle simmer and cook briefly (5 minutes or so) to allow the flavors to blend.  Correct the seasoning, adding freshly ground black pepper, if you like.  Serve drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled generously with parsley.  Serve with a loaf of crusty bread and some cheese.

Makes 2 1/2 quarts soup (enough for 5 or 6 servings)

Printable Version

Golden Couscous with Chicken, Carrots, Turnips & Summer Squash

I tend to think of braises and stews as being autumn and winter foods.  But recently as I looked at some of my farmers' market vegetables I realized that I had the makings of a traditional Moroccan-style couscous of chicken and vegetables.  I have always thought it was odd that these stews often feature a combination of what I think of as winter root vegetables (carrots and turnips) and summer squash (or zucchini).  But there they were...young carrots, golden turnips and yellow squash...all in my market basket at the same moment.  And I have to admit that as we sat down to our hot, fragrant and spicy bowl of stew and couscous on a recent rather sultry evening, the food seemed to be a perfect (although unusual for me) match for the day. 

I should say up front that the dish I prepared is by no means an authentic couscous.  An authentic couscous would use dried (as opposed to canned) chickpeas...and it would definitely not use our ubiquitous instant/pre-steamed couscous.  A true Moroccan...or Algerian....couscous is prepared in a special pot called a couscoussière.  The pot is constructed like a double boiler-style steamer.  The bottom portion is a typical stewing pot and the top piece has a perforated bottom so that the couscous (a dried granular, semolina pasta) can steam over the fragrant stew—taking on the perfume of the spices in the stew as it cooks.  The cooking process takes two or three hours and twice during that time the couscous is turned out onto a large pan (like a paella pan) so that it can be hand "fluffed."  I had the pleasure of participating in the making of a traditional Algerian couscous many years ago while I was working in France.  It took the better part of an afternoon, and although I enjoyed myself immensely, when I want to put dinner on the table here at home, I am grateful for our pre-steamed couscous—which only takes about 10 minutes to make (and is pretty much all that one finds at American grocery stores).

The preparation of the "stew" portion of the couscous follows all of the basic rules of braising and stewing.  I wrote a stewing basics post several years ago that goes into all the pertinent details.  If you are a novice to stewing...or aren't happy with the way your stews turn out...you might take a few moments to read that post.  A well made stew or braise is, I think, one of the finest foods around.

When I made our stew, I chose to use all chicken drumsticks.  If you don't like to eat with your hands, drumsticks aren't the best choice.  But if you don't mind, they are perfect...the one end making a convenient little handle.  Just make sure you provide plenty of napkins...or even finger bowls of water.  You can also make it with thighs—which are a bit easier to tackle with knife and fork...or are easily deboned in the kitchen so that people don't have to wrestle with bones at the table at all.  I would discourage the use of white meat for this stew.  You must pull the white meat out when it is just cooked or it will be tough and dry.  The vegetables will then have to go on cooking until they are done.  The vegetables take 50 minutes to an hour to cook.  The dark meat pieces are a perfect match since they will cook to beautiful, flavorful tenderness in just this amount of time.

Finally, the choice of vegetable varieties is up to you.  I happened to bring home some lovely Gold Ball turnips along with my carrots and yellow squash.  The result—when combined with the saffron and turmeric—was what I thought was a fantastically beautiful study in yellows, oranges and golds.  But you can obviously make this dish with regular white turnips.  And even though I have lumped the carrots and turnips together in the ingredient list, I would encourage you to use roughly an equal quantity of each.  The stew will be a bit sweet and one dimensional without the turnips..and will tend towards bitterness without the balance of the carrots.  You may also use regular old zucchini instead of the yellow squash.  In the fall, you could make this dish with winter—instead of summer—squash.  Add winter squash 10 minutes after the root vegetables have been simmering for 10 minutes.

Chicken Braised with Carrots, Turnips and Summer Squash

2 1/2 to 3 lbs. chicken drumsticks, thighs or a combination

2 T. olive oil, divided

1 1/2 T. butter

1 1/4 lb. carrots and turnips—in any combination that you prefer (see post)—trimmed and peeled

10 to 12 oz. summer squash or zucchini

1 large onion (12 oz.), diced

3 to 4 cloves garlic, minced

1 2-inch piece cinnamon stick

1/2 t. (slightly mounded) ground ginger

1/4 t. (slightly mounded) turmeric

2 c. chicken stock or no-salt canned chicken broth

Generous pinch of saffron, crumbled

1 can chickpeas, drained and rinsed

1/2 T. freshly squeezed lemon juice...more or less as needed

1/3 c. finely sliced flat leaf parsley

1/3 c. finely sliced cilantro

2 T. Harissa (more or less, to taste)—purchased, or make your own (recipe below)

Season the chicken generously with salt and pepper.  In a large braising pan (wide enough to hold all the chicken and deep enough to accommodate all of the chicken and vegetables) set over moderate heat melt the butter in 1 T. of the olive oil.  When the butter is melted, increase the heat.  When the butter foam subsides, add the chicken (skin side down if using thighs).  Carefully brown the chicken until the fat is rendered and the skin is crisp and golden.  Regulate the heat as necessary to maintain and active sizzle without scorching the chicken.  Drumsticks will need to be carefully rotated and will take longer—perhaps 20 to 25 minutes.  Thighs will primarily need to be browned on the skin side with only a quick surface sear on the side without skin and will take less time. 

While the chicken browns, cut the vegetables.  Cut the carrots on a short diagonal into 3/4- to 1-inch chunks.  Cut the turnips into a rough 3/4- to 1-inch dice.  Trim the ends away from the squash.  Cut into 1-inch chunks. 

Remove the browned chicken pieces to a plate.  Add the onions to the pan along with a pinch of salt (and more olive oil if the pan seems dry).  Cook the onions over moderate heat—reducing the heat if they onions start to brown too much—until quite soft...15 minutes or longer, if necessary.  Add the garlic, cinnamon stick, ginger and turmeric and cook until fragrant (about a minute).  

Add the broth and the browned chicken (along with any juices that have been released as the chicken sits) to the pan.  Bring to a simmer.  Crumble in the saffron and season with 3/4 t. kosher salt (less if you have used salted broth).  Add the carrots and turnips and bring to a simmer.  Cover with a tight fitting lid and simmer gently for 20 minutes.  Add the squash...making sure all the vegetables are submerged in the broth...return to a simmer, cover and cook another 20 minutes.  Add the chickpeas, cover and continue to simmer until the vegetables and chicken are tender—another 10 to 20 minutes.  Taste and correct the seasoning.  If the dish seems very sweet...or one dimensional...add a squeeze of lemon.  

Serve with cilantro and parsley scattered over.  Pass Harissa separately so each diner can drizzle it on to taste (or...if you prefer...and you know that everyone will enjoy the heat of Harissa, stir 2 T. of Harissa into the broth prior to serving).  Serve accompanied by Apricot & Pistachio Couscous.

Serves 4 to 6.

Apricot & Pistachio Couscous

1 c. couscous

3/4 t. kosher salt

1/2 c. sliced dried apricots (75 grams)

2 T. unsalted butter

1 1/4 c. water

1/2 c. pistachios, toasted and coarsely chopped

1/4 t. cinnamon

Place the couscous in a medium sized bowl.  Add the salt and apricots and toss to combine.  Cut the butter into chunks and scatter over the surface.  Bring the water to a boil and pour over, swirling the bowl gently to make sure the water penetrates all of the couscous.  Cover tightly with plastic wrap and let stand for 10 minutes.  Uncover, add the pistachios and cinnamon and fluff with a fork.  Taste and correct the seasoning.

Printable Recipe (Stew & Couscous)

Harissa

1 t. cumin seed

1/2 t. coriander seed

1/2 t. caraway seed

4 hot red dried chiles (I use chile de árbol)—about 2 inches in length, stemmed and seeded or not...as you prefer...and rough chopped

2 cloves peeled garlic

3/4 t. coarse salt, or to taste

1 medium red bell pepper—roasted, peeled, and chopped coarse

1 t. tomato paste

1 T. olive oil

Toast whole spices and chiles in a dry skillet until fragrant, then cool.

With an electric spice grinder, a cleaned coffee grinder, or a mortar and pestle, grind seeds and chiles fine. Transfer ground spices to a small food processor and add garlic and salt.  Grind mixture to a paste.  Add roasted pepper, tomato paste, and oil and process until smooth.

The harissa will keep, covered in a jar in the refrigerator, for weeks. It is HOT, savory and delicious.  Serve as a condiment with couscous and tagine. Makes 1/2 cup.

Notes: 

• I use a rounded measure for each of the spices...and I remove the seeds from half of the chiles. 
• If using a spice or coffee grinder to grind the spices and chiles, let the grinder sit for a moment or two before opening to allow the spices to settle. If you open it right away some of the spices and more significantly some of the chiles will be airborne—which will irritate your eyes and nose. 

(Harissa recipe courtesy of my friend Chef Nancy Stark)

Printable Recipe (Harissa)

Salad of Late Spring Vegetables with Mint, Feta & Black Olives ...and a great Basic Vinaigrette

One day last week I joined a friend at a small bar & grill near my home for lunch.  I ordered a Reuben.  I couldn't resist.  And it was delicious.  But as is so often the case, it was very large...too large.  And even though I only ate half of it, it was just too much—so much heavier than the kinds of things I normally eat for lunch.  When the dinner hour rolled around I still wasn't very hungry.  What I really wanted was a plate of raw vegetables.

As I looked through my vegetable drawer, I realized that something fresh, light and raw was definitely within my reach.  The market this time of year is serving up young, crisp root vegetables (radishes, carrots, white top "salad" turnips), crunchy head lettuces (like iceberg and romaine)...and peas of all kinds.  As I looked at all of this bounty I remembered a salad I taught in a recent class.   The salad features shaved radishes and lightly blanched snow peas...but it's mostly an idea for how to combine and enjoy the best vegetables of late spring in their raw and lightly cooked state.  Suddenly the light and fresh meal that I craved was taking shape. 

Two things set this salad apart:  the vinaigrette...and the combination of the olives, feta and mint.  Over the past couple of weeks I have made this salad with lots of different combinations of vegetables, but always the same dressing and garnish.  It has been delicious every time. The vinaigrette is my current "house" vinaigrette.  It is from Monique Jamet Hooker's Cooking with the Seasons and is appropriately dubbed "Basic Vinaigrette."  It is tangy and flavorful, but neutral enough to go with all kinds of different ingredients and styles of salads.  You can even turn it into a creamy vinaigrette by adding some heavy cream (add a tablespoon of cream for every two tablespoons of vinaigrette).  It is a great vinaigrette to keep on hand.  It doesn't separate (the presence of the Dijon...and mixing it in a blender...contribute to a stable emulsion) and it stays liquid in the refrigerator, ready to be used without having to be set out to warm up and become liquid again.

As for the garnish, the salt in the feta and olives does a fantastic job of drawing out the flavors of each vegetable.  This is what the classic pairing of radishes with butter and salt is all about—elevating a simple raw vegetable and allowing it to shine.  Similarly, if you have never enjoyed a carrot, cut into slender sticks and accompanied by a little pile of salt in which to dip them, you should give it a try.

The mint too seems indispensable to me.  It adds the perfect cool and fresh tone to the salad.  I'm pretty sure I would miss it if it weren't there.  It does not seem like a coincidence to me that at the same time the young root vegetables and peas are thriving on the farms in my region that the mint in my garden is at its best—reveling in the cool days of spring.  Mint is a wonderful partner for the vegetables of spring.  If you don't have mint, I'm sure other soft herbs would be good too...flat leaf parsley...perhaps some dill...or basil...  But I don't think any of them would have quite the same effect as the mint.   

The manner of cutting the vegetables is important too.  Everything should be finely/thinly sliced or shaved.  The lettuces, since they are inherently thin, can be cut into a small rough chop, but I think they look pretty when shaved/thinly sliced.  Carrots, radishes, turnips and fennel should all be thinly sliced on a mandolin or the salad becomes an exercise for your jaw more than anything else.  Snap peas and snow peas benefit from a one minute blanch in boiling water.  It sets their bright green color and softens their crunch just a bit.  It would be better to eat them raw than to cook them to mush though....a minute really is sufficient.  And make sure you rinse them under cold running water or drop them in an ice bath to stop the cooking (and then spread them on towels to dry so the water clinging to them won't water down your vinaigrette).  After blanching, the peas can be added to the salad whole...or sliced on the diagonal into two or three pieces.  English peas are also pretty in this salad—tossed in raw or blanched.  I have even added asparagus...thinly sliced on a slight diagonal.  You can blanch it...or not.  Asparagus can also be shaved into long ribbons with a vegetable peeler...in which case you would add it raw. 

Shredded Iceberg, radishes, sugar snap peas, asparagus, sunflower shoots and mint

I would advise against using too many different kinds of vegetables.  In addition to the lettuce, a medley of four or five (or less) seems like a nice number...each item remains identifiable in the mix.  Too much more than that and the individual interest of each one is lost.  As with the original snow pea and radish salad that inspired mine, you can dispense with the lettuce altogether (if you don't have it...or don't like it), but I find that a little adds fluff and a bit of lighter crunch in the midst of the more serious crunch of the root vegetables.  

Finally, when you are choosing your vegetables consider whether they are hot and pungent...or sweet and mild...and balance them accordingly.  I personally like a salad of at least a third...preferably half...sugar snap or snow peas.  Peas are naturally sweet...and their crunch is delicate.  The salad would seem more like a relish or root vegetable slaw without them.

I don't very often eat such a light meal for dinner, but on the evening in question—served with a bit of nice bread—it was just the thing.  It will probably be the rare occasion when this salad appears on my dinner table as anything but a side (it would be great with grilled burgers...or fish...or chicken...).  But since that first dinner, I have had it for lunch several times.   Each time the composition of vegetables and lettuces has been slightly different.  And each time it has been a delicious little celebration of the light and fresh foods that are filling my farmers' market right now. 

Salad of Late Spring Vegetables with Feta, Olives & Mint

1 lb. (trimmed weight) young spring vegetables—use a mix of three or four of the following:  radishes, carrots, fennel bulb, white top salad turnips, asparagus spears, sugar snap peas, snow peas

6 oz. (more or less) chopped or thinly shaved ice berg lettuce or romaine hearts

Salt & Pepper

1/2 c. mint chiffonade

About a half cup basic vinaigrette, plus more for drizzling

1/2 c. olives, pitted and cut into lengthwise strips

1/2 to 2/3 c. crumbled Feta

Prepare the vegetables:  For sugar snap and snow peas, remove the strings. Bring a pot of well-salted water to a boil.  Add the peas and blanch until the water returns to a boil—about a minute.  Transfer the peas to a bowl of ice water.  When cold, lift out and spread on kitchen towels.  Blot dry.  They may be left as they are, but I like to cut them into 1/4-inch strips on the diagonal.

Asparagus may be cut in thin slices on a short diagonal and added raw or blanched (like the peas), or they may be shaved into long strips using a vegetable peeler and added raw.

Fennel and young root vegetables should be trimmed and sliced thinly crosswise (at a slight angle if appropriate) using a mandolin.  Peel the carrots and salad turnips first, if you like.  I would recommend peeling if the skin is especially tough or dirty.

Place the vegetables, lettuce and mint in a large bowl.  Season well with salt & pepper.  Drizzle in about a third cup of the vinaigrette.  Toss until everything is well coated...adding more vinaigrette as necessary.  Taste and correct the seasoning.  You may add the Feta and olives and toss to combine—or plate the salad (on individual plates or in a large serving bowl) by layering handfuls of salad and sprinkling of feta and olives in between the layers, finishing with a final scattering of feta and olives and a drizzle of vinaigrette, if you like.  Serve right away.  If you have not used any lettuce, the salad may be held briefly in the refrigerator before serving.  Serves 4 as a light entrée or lunch...8 as a side salad. 

Notes: 

• Quantities of vinaigrette, mint, olives and Feta should be to taste.  I have given amounts only as a starting point.  You should alter to suit your preferences and your palate.
• I think this salad is best when 1/3 to 1/2 of the vegetables are made up of sugar snap or snow peas.  As you consider the vegetables you will add, think about the character of each...whether they are hot and pungent...or sweet and mild...and balance them accordingly to obtain a pleasing whole.
• The quantities in this recipe are easily divided for an impromptu lunch for one...or multiplied for a large party or buffet platter.  In general, the amounts given are a guideline.   You should use amounts and quantities that suit your appetite and your palate.
• Sprouts and shoots make a delicious addition to this salad.  More substantial varieties can be tossed in with the lettuce and vegetables...more delicate ones should be scattered over the finished salad.

Basic Vinaigrette:

1 T. finely minced shallot

1 small clove of garlic, minced

1/4 c. red wine vinegar

Salt & freshly ground black pepper

1 T. Dijon mustard

3/4 c. oil—olive oil, or half olive oil and half vegetable oil

1 T. finely minced parsley

Place the shallot, garlic, vinegar, pepper and a half teaspoon of kosher salt in the cup of an immersion blender...or regular blender.  Let sit for five minutes.  Add the mustard. With the blender running, add the oil in a thin stream to form a thick, emulsified dressing.  Add the parsley and process briefly...or simply stir in.  Taste and correct the seasoning.  Makes 1 cup vinaigrette.

The dressing keeps at least two weeks in the refrigerator.  If all olive oil is used, it will solidify under refrigeration and you will need to bring to room temperature before using.  When made with half vegetable oil it will still be pourable when cold.

Note: You may add the parsley with the Dijon...just be aware that your vinaigrette will have a pale green cast to it.

(Vinaigrette recipe from Cooking with the Seasons by Monique Jamet Hooker)

Printable Recipe

What's in Season?... Turnips

When I flipped to the February drawing for my 2016 "Twelve Months of Fresh Food" calendar I was surprised to see turnips.  

It is not that turnips are not in season right now...they are in fact in season in their capacity as a winter storage vegetable.  My surprise was mostly because in recent years I have come to think of them more often as a young, tender root from the farmers' market during the cooler early and waning days of the growing season.  In that capacity, they are delicious raw (in a salad)......or lightly braised in butter (as a vegetable side). 

                                   

But it was nice to be reminded of them as one of the wonderful root vegetables that make up the winter pantry.  In that role, their pleasantly bitter edge can add depth and complexity to winter soups and stews as well as vegetable purées, gratins and side dishes.   I was glad to have a reason to purchase some this month (we all get into our own little culinary ruts sometimes...). 

Like most storage vegetables, you have to be careful when you purchase them to make sure you don't get a hold of a specimen that has been improperly stored...or stored too long.  Storage turnips will almost always look a bit scuffed or marred...but they shouldn't be deeply scratched or gouged (they will decay rapidly where the skin has been broken).  They should be firm and heavy for their size as well.  If they feel light they will be dry and pithy or spongy.  Alice Waters in her book Chez Panisse Vegetables mentions that you should avoid storage turnips that have begun to re-sprout as they will have become woody.  I would imagine that they would also be excessively bitter at this stage. When you get them home, store them in an open plastic bag in the vegetable drawer of your refrigerator. 

For my winter turnip recipe I'm sharing a Spicy Moroccan Roasted Chicken dish.  The recipe is an adaptation of a Cornish Hen recipe that I have been making (and teaching) for years.  

I had a couple of reasons for changing it.  For one thing, I like Cornish Hens...but I love chicken thighs.  But more importantly, the chicken thigh version is a bit more streamlined...and my goal in posting this recipe is to encourage people to try turnips.  Having to truss, baste, carve, etc. might put people off.  I am including the adjustments for the Cornish Hen version in the notes at the bottom of the recipe though, for those who want to try it. 

In addition to chicken thighs, turnips and a lively blend of Moroccan spices (cumin, coriander, caraway, paprika and cayenne), this dish includes sweet winter squash and cipollini onions—both of which temper the heat of the spices...and any bitterness in the turnips...nicely.  I add more sweetness by serving it with a cinnamon scented couscous studded with golden raisins.  If you are in the mood for a lighter meal, a fluff of arugula dressed with lemon and olive oil would make a great side too.  If you have never liked...or never tried...turnips, you should give them a chance in this recipe.  They add great flavor...without being overpowering.

Once you've tried the turnips in this dish, you will probably want to try them in other ways.  You might sample them in a hearty and traditional Guinness stew...perfect for St. Patrick's Day (which is just around the corner)...or in a rich and creamy gratin with sweet potatoes and Yukon Gold potatoes.   Whether you try these...or some other....recipes, I think you will soon find that there are many ways to prepare this oft neglected vegetable of the winter months.

Moroccan-Spiced Chicken with Butternut Squash & Turnips

1 1/2 lbs. chicken thighs, trimmed of excess fat (or use legs...or a mixture of thighs and legs)

About 2 t. kosher salt, divided

1 t. coriander seed
1 t. cumin seed

1/2 t. caraway seed

1 1/2 t. paprika

1/4 t. cayenne pepper

3 T. olive oil

Zest of one lemon

1 1/4 lb. butternut squash, peeled, seeded and cut into 1-inch chunks

3 medium turnips (about 10 to 12 oz.), peeled and cut into 1-inch chunks

6 oz. cipollini onions (8 to 12, depending on their size...look for 1 to 1 1/2 inch), peeled

Freshly ground black pepper

Coarsely chopped cilantro

1 lemon, cut into wedges

Plain yogurt to serve, optional

If time permits, salt the chicken 12 to 24 hours ahead.  Use up to 3/4 t. of kosher salt per pound of chicken...I find a teaspoon of kosher salt for 1 1/2 lbs of chicken to be about right.  Cover and refrigerate.

Preheat the oven to 450°. 

Place the spices in a dry sauté pan over medium-high heat, shaking occasionally, until fragrant.  Transfer to a plate to cool.  Grind in a spice grinder or with a mortar and pestle.  (If whole spices are not available, just use ground spices.)  Combine the toasted spices with the paprika and cayenne in a small bowl with the olive oil and lemon zest; set aside. 

In a large bowl, toss the vegetables with a teaspoon of kosher salt and pepper to taste.  Pepper the chicken and add it to the bowl.  Drizzle the spicy oil over all and toss until everything is well coated.  A wide rubber spatula or your hands work great for this.  Spread the vegetables and chicken (skin side up) on a lightly oiled rimmed sheet pan, distributing everything evenly.   

Place the pan in the oven and roast, stirring the vegetables and basting the chicken with the pan juices two or three times as they roast.  Because all ovens are different, you will have to watch carefully to make sure that 450° is the right temperature for your oven.  You want everything to be cooking at an active sizzle.  If after 20 minutes nothing is happening, increase the temperature by 25°...if things are snapping and popping aggressively...or smoking, reduce the oven temperature by 25°.  Continue to roast until the thighs are cooked through (juices should run clear) and the vegetables are tender and golden brown—about 45 minutes.

Transfer the chicken and vegetables to a platter or individual serving plates and scatter the cilantro over all.  Serve with lemon wedges and a dollop of yogurt on the side, if desired.  Accompany with cinnamon and raisin couscous...or steamed basmati rice...or, for a lighter meal, serve with arugula dressed with lemon and olive oil.  Serves 4

Variation for Cornish Hens:  Replace the chicken thighs with two 1 1/4 to 1 1/2 lb. Cornish Hens.  Reduce the oil in the spice mixture by a tablespoon and add a tablespoon of honey and a tablespoon of lemon juice to the mixture.  Season the hens (12 to 24 hours ahead, if time).  Stuff a quarter of a lemon in each of the cavities and tie the legs together with cotton twine.  Toss the vegetables with salt and pepper, add the Cornish hens to the bowl and pour the spice mixture over all, tossing to coat everything thoroughly.  Place the hens and vegetables in a shallow baking dish just large enough to hold the hens and vegetables in a snug single layer.  Start the birds in a 475° oven.  Roast, basting the birds occasionally with the pan juices.  After 20 minutes or so (when the birds have begun to take on a deep color), reduce the oven temperature to 400° and add 1/2 cup of water to the roasting pan.  Continue to roast until the birds are fully cooked (juices should run clear) and the vegetables are tender and golden—another 20 to 30 minutes.  (If at any time the pan juices become dry, add more water.)  Keep the vegetables warm while you rest the birds (at least 10 minutes).  Cut the birds in half and serve one half per person.

Printable Version

Cornish Hen variation...

Cinnamon Couscous with Golden Raisins

1 c. quick-cooking couscous

1/2 t. kosher salt

1/4 t. cinnamon

2 T. unsalted butter

1 1/4 c. boiling water

1/2 c. golden raisins, plumped in boiling water and drained well

Place the couscous in a medium sized bowl and toss with the salt and cinnamon.  Add the butter.  Pour the boiling water over, give it a stir and cover with plastic wrap.  Let stand for 10 minutes.  Remove the plastic, add the raisins and fluff with a fork. Serve immediately.   Serves 4

(Couscous recipe adapted from One Good Dish by David Tanis)

Leftovers for lunch....

A Traditional Menu for St. Patrick’s Day

This week I taught one of my favorite classes…a traditional Irish menu for St. Patrick’s Day.  American’s seem to love St. Patrick’s Day….and they celebrate with gusto. The tradition of marking the day with a platter of corned beef and cabbage is firmly entrenched.  But my understanding is that in the land of St. Patrick himself, this is not the dish upon which most will feast.  Irish tables are more likely to feature a hearty beef or lamb stew.  Cabbage might appear, but will probably show up folded into a dish of fluffy and buttery mashed potatoes.  So rather than follow the traditions of my own country, I have hopped back over the Atlantic for my St. Patrick’s day spread….one that features soda bread, colcannon potatoes, a delicious Guinness beef stew and a double-crusted lemon curd tart.

The stew that I make for our St. Patrick’s Day meal is a simple—and to be honest, classically French—beef stew featuring Guinness and root vegetables.  A few years ago I wrote a post detailing the basic processes of braising and stewing.  If you have never made a stew before, this post would be a great primer—all of the rules that apply to the red wine-based stew that I posted then would apply to this Guinness stew.   It is the Guinness—not the technique—that plants this stew firmly in Ireland. 

It is worth noting that even though this stew is Irish because of the ingredients, it would not be correct to call my Guinness stew “Irish Stew”.  A traditional Irish stew is a baked casserole of layered onions, potatoes and lamb.  Occasionally a few carrots are added.  It is a rustic and delicious dish…and if I don’t make Guinness stew, this is the stew that I make.  My favorite example of it can be found in the March 2004 issue of Martha Stewart Living.  Because I can’t help myself, I do make a couple of changes to her recipe.  First, I brown the lamb and soften the onions (in the same pan in which the lamb has been browned) prior to layering everything into the casserole.  Then, I add two or three large carrots—peeled and cut into thirds—placing them on top among the whole potatoes after the stew has been in the oven for an hour or so.    

I have already posted the recipes for Brown Soda Bread and Colcannon potatoes.  I will only add here that I am always….   always    ….struck by how delicious these two foods can be.  People who think they don’t like whole grains will enjoy this bread—slathered with a generous quantity of sweet (unsalted) butter.  The same goes for the potatoes and those who think they hate cabbage.  The glory of Irish cooking is its simplicity and its connection to the land—which produces soft, low-protein wheat, oats, rich dairy products and abundant cool weather crops (among other things).  These things are on full display in these two dishes.  If you have never tasted either of these foods, you should definitely give one…or both…of them a try. 

I finish my Irish menu with a double crusted lemon curd tart.  This recipe is from a column that ran in Bon Appetit in March of 1992.  The author of the article (Gerri Gilliland) was raised in Ireland but was living and working in the United States as a chef.  Her article was written to introduce Americans to a more traditionally Irish St. Patrick’s Day feast.  Because I was curious to see how much I had altered her tart recipe over the years, I pulled my copy of that issue this week.  I was gratified to discover that our menus are almost identical.  In fact, the origin of my Guinness stew is probably her recipe.  I have altered both the stew and the tart over the years, but not so much as to make them unrecognizable from the originals.  I am pleased to give her credit.

As Gilliland points out in her article, this menu is perfectly suited to a weeknight party.  (Serendipitously, in the year her article was published, St. Patrick’s Day fell on a Tuesday…just as it will this year.)  For the tart, the lemon curd should be made the day before (so it will be thoroughly chilled)—and the dough can be made—and even rolled out—the day before.  It is then a simple matter to fill the crust and bake the tart after work.  The stew can also be made ahead—in fact, it is better this way since this allows the flavors to develop more fully.  Simply make the stew on Sunday or Monday, cool it down and then before reheating, scrape any solidified fat off of the top.  Bring it to a simmer over very low heat—or in a low oven—while you are making the Colcannon.  If you would like to greet your guests with an appetizer, Gilliland suggests that nothing is more Irish than a platter of thinly sliced smoked salmon to accompany your brown soda bread.  Barring that, a nice platter of Irish cheddar or Dubliner cheese would be good too.

Whether you prepare all—or even just one—of these dishes, I hope that you and your family and friends will take the opportunity afforded by this holiday to gather at a table and experience the traditional tastes of the delicious foods of Ireland.  Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

Guinness Beef Stew

2 1/2 to 3 lbs. boneless beef chuck (trimmed of excess sinew and fat), cut into 1 1/2-inch pieces

Salt and pepper

Flour for dredging

3 to 4 T. olive or vegetable oil

2 medium yellow onions, diced

6 to 8 cloves garlic, peeled and thinly sliced

4 or 5 sprigs thyme

1 sprig rosemary

1 12-ounce bottle Guinness stout

3 to 4 cups stock (beef, lamb or chicken) or water

2 lbs. root vegetables (carrots, parsnips, celeriac, turnips and/or rutabagas) peeled and cut into 1-inch chunks

Getting ready to make a double batch...

Season the meat generously with salt and pepper.  If time allows, season the meat up to 24 hours ahead.  Wrap and refrigerate.  Dredge in flour and shake off the excess. 

In a wide deep sauté pan or Dutch oven, heat some of the oil over medium-high heat.  Add the meat and brown on all sides.  Don't crowd the meat in the pan.  If necessary, brown in batches, removing each batch to a plate while you do the next.  

It will take 10 to 20 minutes per batch to brown the meat.  Regulate the heat as necessary to maintain an active sizzle—it shouldn’t spatter and smoke.

Remove the final batch to a platter and reduce the heat to medium or medium-low.  Add the onions to the pan—adding  more oil if necessary.  Sweat the onions until translucent and beginning to caramelize—about 10 minutes.  Add the garlic and continue to cook until fragrant.  Add the Stout to the pan and bring to a simmer, scraping up all of the caramelized bits from the bottom of the pan.  Reduce the Stout by half.  Return the meat to the pan along with any accumulated juices and the herbs.   Add enough hot water or stock to cover the meat.  Bring to a boil; reduce the heat, cover and simmer (heat should be very low), stirring occasionally, until the meat is almost tender—about 1 1/2 to 2 hours.  (The stew may also be transferred to a 325° oven to be cooked.)  

Add the root vegetables and continue to simmer, covered, until the meat and vegetables are tender (another hour or so).  Taste and correct the seasoning with salt and pepper.  Remove the herb sprigs before serving.

Serves 6 to 8.

Note:  If you prefer a thicker stew, you may thicken it with a roux after it is done cooking.  To prepare the roux, melt 2 T. of butter in a small saucepan.  When foam subsides, whisk 2 or 3 T. of flour.  Cook stirring constantly for a minute or two—the roux will be bubbly and straw yellow. Remove from the heat.  You may use the roux immediately, or let it solidify and use it later.  To thicken the stew, place the stew over moderate heat.  Maintaining a gentle simmer, add the roux, bit by bit, until you have achieved the thickness you desire.  It is unlikely that you will need all of the roux.  In my opinion, the stew is more delicious if the sauce is only lightly thickened. 

Printable Version

Double Crust Lemon Curd Tart

 

Sweet Tart Dough:

1 c. (2 sticks) unsalted butter (227g)

3/4 c. sugar (150g)

2 egg yolks (40g)

2 t. vanilla

2 1/2 c. all-purpose flour (300g)

2/3 c. cake flour (92g)

Briefly cream the butter and sugar.  Beat in the egg yolks and the vanilla.  Add the flours and mix until just combined.  Divide the dough into three equal portions.  The dough may be used right away, or chilled and rolled out later (let it soften slightly before rolling it out).  Press each portion into a thick disk.  Wrap in plastic and chill until ready to use.  For the lemon curd tart you will only need 2 of the disks.  The other may be frozen for another use. 

Lemon Curd:

1 c. sugar

Zest of 3 lemons

2/3 c. strained lemon juice

3 eggs

4 oz. (1 stick) unsalted butter, cut into pieces

Combine the sugar, lemon zest and lemon juice in a medium saucepan and bring to a boil over high heat.  In a medium-sized bowl, whisk the eggs until homogenous.  When the lemon syrup boils, whisk it into the eggs in a thin stream.  Return this mixture to the saucepan and place over medium heat.  Stir constantly until the mixture is visibly thickened—this will only take about 3 minutes.  Remove from the heat and whisk in the butter, piece by piece.  When the butter is fully incorporated, turn the curd into a bowl and press a piece of plastic wrap to the surface.  Chill overnight.

Build and Bake the tart:

2 disks of tart dough

Cold lemon curd filling

1 egg white, beaten until frothy

Additional sugar for sprinkling (1 T. or so)

Sweetened whipped cream

Fresh raspberries (or other favorite berry)

Between 2 sheets of plastic wrap, roll one disk of dough into a round about 1/8-inch thick.  Peel off the top sheet of plastic and invert the round of dough into a buttered 9- to 9 1/2-inch removable-bottom tart pan.  Ease the dough into the pan being careful not to stretch it and pressing it against the sides of the tart pan.  Use your hands to gently press the dough against the upper rim of the tart pan so that the dough is trimmed flush with the pan.  Spoon the cold lemon curd into the tart shell.  Roll out the second round of dough.  Place it on top of the filling.  Press the edges together to seal.

Place the tart onto a cookie sheet and bake in a preheated 375° oven until the top and sides are golden brown—about 35 minutes.  Remove to a rack and let stand for 5 minutes.  Brush the top of the tart with the beaten egg white; sprinkle with the sugar.  Bake 10 minutes more.  Cool the tart on a wire rack.  When completely cool, slice and serve with whipped cream and fresh berries. 

Printable Version

(Recipes adapted from Bon Appetit, March 1992)