By Nancy Harmon Jenkins (Zester Daily)

A recent trip to the produce market led me to sing hymns in praise of winter vegetables. I returned home with familiar cauliflower and broccoli, as well as fennel, which I’ve learned can be as good roasted in a gratin dish with a light cheesy topping as it is raw in a salad. Other finds included an enormous, 2-pound black radish, something totally new to me; and leeks, without a doubt the true key to all good things in the winter kitchen.

Years ago, for reasons too complicated to explain, I spent a couple of winters in a very small French village, population just less than 3,000, in the Vercors mountains above Grenoble. We stayed, my baby girl and I, in a pension called La Crémaillère run by Madame Jacquet, one of those fierce French women utterly lacking in social graces but who was a genius in the kitchen. The babe went to the école maternelle (nursery school) each morning, while Mama hovered over her typewriter, engaged in writing a novel (not my first, and no, it was never finished).

Toward lunchtime, up from Madame Jacquet’s kitchen would float inevitably the enticing aroma of leeks, steeped and braised in butter, ready to form the base of whatever potage du jour was on Madame’s menu for that day. Perhaps a little garlic accompanied them, occasionally an onion to add its more acerbic flavors to the mix, and then carrots one day, little purple-topped turnips another, simple potatoes a third. But every lunch began, as was considered only proper in the bon ménage bourgeois Madame Jacquet maintained, in company with her equals all over France.

Aromas bring back memories

From that day to this, the enticing aroma of braising leeks has evoked France for me more strongly than any other, more strongly even than the penetrating odor of Gauloise Caporals — strong French cigarettes — that used to be the distinguishing fragrance of the Paris Métro.

So when I chop a leek, rinse it carefully and toss it in a pot with a tablespoon of butter and a tablespoon of oil, it is to France that my culinary instincts turn. Those French soups are so simple, so easy and so inviting that I’m ready to revive them for my winter table. And because we’re always looking for ways to put more healthful vegetables on the menu, a potage du jour can be an elegant way to add to that slot as well.

Because I already had the cauliflower, why not, then, a potage au chou-fleur for a first course at dinner? I was not surprised to discover that my good friend Josée di Stasio, who has a great French-language food program, “A la di Stasio,” on Quebec television, has a recipe for a leek and cauliflower soup. For 4 servings, di Stasio simply sweats out 2 chopped leeks and 2 cloves of garlic in olive oil, adds a cut-up cauliflower, then 6 cups of broth (chicken or vegetable — enough to cover) and cooks until the vegetables are all tender. I would also add half a peeled and cubed potato to give the soup a nice creaminess. Then puree it, using a stick blender or an old-fashioned vegetable mill, and serve it up, garnished with chopped parsley or chervil or any other green herb that tickles your fancy.

Another time, though, I went back to a favorite recipe from “The Four Seasons of Pasta,” the book I published last year with my daughter Sara, to find a great cauliflower “sauce” for pasta. It isn’t really a sauce, but it is delicious mixed with pasta, and the sultana raisins and pine nuts give it a pleasant Sicilian touch. We think penne rigate is the perfect shape for this, but any short, stubby pasta will do.

If you look at the photo below, you will probably notice I left out the chili. That’s because I didn’t have one and it was too cold and late to go to the grocery store for one chili pepper. I also substituted pumpkin seeds for the pine nuts, just because I felt like it. This is all just proof that most recipes, including our own, are not engraved in bronze. Make do with what you have!

Penne rigate con Cavalfiore alla Siciliana

(Sicilian cauliflower pasta with leeks, raisins, pine nuts and a bit of chili)

Prep time: 15 minutes

Cooking time: 20 minutes

Total time: 35 minutes

Yield: Makes 6 servings

 
Ingredients

1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil

2 leeks, white and light green parts, thinly sliced to make 2 cups

2 garlic cloves, thinly sliced

About 1 pound cauliflower, separated into 1-inch florets

1 fresh red or green chili pepper, seeded and thinly sliced

1/2 cup dry white wine

1/2 cup golden sultana raisins, plumped in hot water and drained

Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

About 1 pound (a 500-gram package) penne rigate

1/2 cup freshly grated sharp pecorino

1/2 cup pine nuts, toasted

 
Directions

1. Combine the olive oil with the leeks and garlic in a large, deep skillet and set over low heat. Cook, shaking the pan and stirring, until the leeks are softened but not browned, about 10 minutes.

2. Add the cauliflower and sliced chili. Cover the pan and cook over low heat, stirring occasionally, until the cauliflower is tender, 10 to 15 minutes. Check from time to time and add a tablespoon or two of water or some of the wine to keep the vegetables from sticking to the pan.

3. When the cauliflower is tender, add the wine along with another 1/4 cup of water and raise the heat slightly. Simmer over medium-low heat until the liquid has reduced to about 1/2 cup, about 10 minutes. Toss in the raisins and simmer just long enough to mix the flavors together.

4. While the vegetables are cooking, bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil. Add plenty of salt and the pasta and cook, following package directions, until the pasta is al dente.

5. Drain the pasta and toss with the vegetables in the skillet, then turn into a warm serving bowl and toss again with the grated cheese and pine nuts. Serve immediately.
Note: You could easily substitute bright green broccoli for the cauliflower in this dish, but it will cook in much less time than the cauliflower. Or try it with a colorful mixture of broccoli and cauliflower together.

Copyright Nancy Harmon Jenkins via Zester Daily and Reuters Media Express

The post Winter Vegetables Are The Heart Of Cozy Meals appeared first on Ubiq TV | English News Channel.

By Clifford A. Wright (Zester Daily)

Mick Jagger nailed one problem with turnip greens when he sang “Down Home Girl” in 1964:

Lord I swear the perfume you wear

Was made out of turnip greens

And every time I kiss you girl

It tastes like pork and beans.

The songwriters, Jerry Leiber and Artie Butler, were two Jewish boys from Baltimore and Long Island, respectively, who were unlikely ever to have eaten turnip greens and pork and beans. The song was first sung by Alvin Robinson, but became well known when the Rolling Stones recorded it in Los Angeles in November 1964.

Those turnip greens were on a plate somewhere “down home” in Louisiana. Turnip greens are poor people’s food and you’ll almost never find them in a modern Cajun or Creole cookbook unless they get tossed into a gumbo z’herbes.

Yes there is a problem with smell, as is true with all the cruciferous vegetables. But the one group of people who do something with turnip greens other than cook them with a ham hock are the Italians, who also are a major part of New Orleans’ culinary heritage. One classic preparation would be a dish of boiled turnip greens dressed with fried fresh bread crumbs.

Turnip Greens With Fried Bread Crumbs

In Italian, “cime” can refer to turnip greens, rapini or broccoli rabe, any of which can be used for this preparation. This is a very simple preparation and so although it’s delicious, it is essential to use the proper ration of olive oil, bread crumbs and salt to the greens. Every bite has a nice texture to it.

Serves 4
Ingredients

2 pounds turnip greens, rapini or broccoli rabe

Salt to taste

¼ cup extra virgin olive oil

2 cups fresh bread crumbs
Directions

1. Bring a large pot of water to a boil over high heat, salt lightly then cook the greens until soft but still bright green, about 10 minutes. Drain well in a strainer, pressing out excess liquid with the back of a wooden spoon. Chop the greens coarsely.

2. In a nonstick sauté pan, heat the olive oil over medium-high heat, then cook stirring the bread crumbs until golden and crisp, about 3 minutes. Add the greens and cook, tossing, until mixed well with the bread crumbs, about 1 minute. Season with salt and serve.

Copyright 2016 Clifford A. Wright via Zester Daily and Reuters Media Express

The post Give Turnip Greens The Italian Treatment appeared first on Ubiq TV | English News Channel.