Roasting: God's Answer To Winter

As the frigid winter months trail off and taunt us poor, northeastern souls with three days of nearly 60 degree weather, many of us find that despite our lighter coats, our refrigerators continue to crumble under the weight of winter produce. My spirits have been much higher this winter than last, as I finally figured out the secret to making it work (culinarily speaking). I'd originally balked at winter's arrival, having barely made it through the last one with any shred of enthusiasm. But this year I discovered what chefs have known for years—the trick that keeps their menus afloat when it should otherwise drown in a sea of roots and Seasonal Affective Disorder. It turns out that even the least delicious of winters is surmountable by mastering the simple act of roasting. It seems so easy a solution when I look back at it now, like I've been thinking so long and hard about the individual ingredients that I've missed the bigger picture. Sometimes a variation on one technique is all you need to make it work.

I'd long ago hit a wall when confronted with cabbage and thought for sure the two enormous ones I'd received during my last CSA distribution would be the straw that broke this camel's back. There was nothing left to do with them. I'd sauteed and braised, stuffed and dressed. There were slaws and stir-fry's aplenty, not to mention soups and stews. It seems I'd done all that my stove-top permitted, except for, of course, lowering my head and seeing what was lurking below. But one day while pondering what had suddenly made everyone love brussels sprouts and other formerly detested vegetables, I got to thinking: people love them because they're roasted. Roasting diffuses that fetid odor associated with the overcooked sprouts of many childhoods, while also rendering them crunchy and almost entirely maintenance free. You just coat them lightly in olive oil and toss them in a hot oven. What are brussels sprouts, after all, but teeny, tiny cabbages? Couldn't I just apply the same technique with a few adjustments?

Of course I could! The question was really how to down-size the cabbage in order to not roast it in one big sphere. I decided to try halving the cabbage, removing the core, and then slicing down on the cabbage halves to create wide strips (about 1 inch wide). The rest went just like roasting any old veggie. I tossed all the strips in extra virgin olive oil and lightly salted them before spreading the strips out on an aluminum foil lined sheet pan (easy clean-up!). I popped the tray into a nice hot oven (400 degrees) and 20 minutes later I had roasted cabbage. The edges closest to the core were soft and buttery while the outer edges crisped and charred, adding a wonderful crunch. It reminded me of the kale chips I'd made so many times this year, where the stems softened and the outer bits crisped and browned. I knew immediately that the cabbage would make a great side for a meat dish, so I served it alongside an Argentinean-style steak topped with a spicy chimichuri (but it'd be even better alongside a pork roast or even some chops). And so, as I wait patiently for the bounty of spring and summer I leave you with this one winter blues remedy. Cabbage is super cheap, especially when you consider how much of it you get. One head makes a ton of food, so if you're trying to find a way to eat seasonal and/or local, give this roasted cabbage a shot. It'd make a great and healthy side to some sausage or even a hot dog night. The next time, I think I'll do what I do with brussels sprouts and add a pinch of red pepper flake and vinegar for some heat!

Roast Cabbage

1 medium head of cabbage (green or red)
extra virgin olive oil
salt

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Halve and core the cabbage. Place cabbage cut-side down and cut into 1-inch strips. 

2. Toss cabbage lightly with extra virgin olive oil and spread out on an aluminum foil covered baking sheet (you may need to roast on two sheets to avoid crowding the pan). Roast in the oven for 15-20 minutes or until browned and crispy. Enjoy!

-Laura

Mon Petit Chou, Part Deux

I'm not sure about where you live, but the weather here in NYC has slowly been getting milder, and with it my impatience for spring and it's culinary bounty have hit an all-time high. My last visit to the farmers market for fresh produce was met with little more than the remnants of winter roots, and I left with a bag full of cabbage and the hope that my new herb plants could tide me over until conditions improved. So this week, as the temperature rose to a lovely spring-like 60 degrees, I found myself wishing for something more than the ugly reminders of winter sitting in my fridge. But since that's what I had and I didn't want it to go to waste, I figured I'd just have to find a way to work with what was hopefully the last of my winter supply. Inspired by the recent festivities of St. Patrick's Day, I figured I could take my leftover tiny head of cabbage and make a modern (and significantly tastier) cabbage soup. And since I don't believe in simply boiling bacon (how could they mess that one up?), I decided to make mine chock full of meaty goodness.

This is a really great way to use up an entire head of cabbage without feeling as if you're going to OD on the stuff. I don't really know anyone that looks forward to a big, fat plate of cabbage, so a soup is a natural vehicle for making it more palatable. The first time I had cabbage soup was during a cold and rainy trip through Ireland. I was a college student at the time and was told that the best way to see Ireland in a weekend was to take a bus tour. And so, I spent two and a half days on a bus that improbably wound it's way through dirt roads and up the many rolling green hills of Ireland, spilling gas and exhaust all over the ruins and ancient abbeys where we paused. There was almost no food and lots of Irish whiskey, until our last day when the tour guide/bus driver/purveyor of whiskey insisted we eat a proper Irish dinner at a proper Irish pub. The options seemed bleak (has no one in Ireland heard of frying?), but ever the intrepid foodie, I went full force, ordering the cabbage and boiled bacon soup. Needless to say, it was bland and managed to make bacon look and taste worst than the sole of my shoe. I was put-off from any soup containing cabbage for years, but have recently redeemed the poor vegetable as one that needs a little more TLC to reach it's full potential.

And so I began by browning the sausage (chicken-apple) then removing it and sauteing the cabbage in the sausage oil and brown bits until it was slightly wilted. Then I added thinly sliced garlic, rosemary, and a hint of salt and pepper. Once it was reduced in volume (by half) and half cooked, I added some tomato paste, parsley and a hint of paprika. Then I added the beans and chicken broth, bringing the whole thing to a boil until the cabbage softened a bit more, but still had a tiny bit of bite (no mushy cabbage here!). The sausage went back into the pot and the whole dish was ready to be served. I made this as a quick after work dinner (all done in 30 minutes), with canned beans, but you could certainly use fresh beans for that slow cooked taste and thick, starchy consistency. It's really well rounded with the tiniest hint of spice, and could be even more filling and hearty for colder days with the addition of a few potatoes. Here's my recipe, I hope it helps tide you over until Spring is officially here!

Cabbage Soup With Sausage, Chorizo And White Beans

1 small head of cabbage, cored and thinly sliced

1 15 oz can of white beans (cannellini beans or great northern), rinsed and drained

4 cups of chicken broth

2 mild flavored sausages (I used chicken-apple), sliced (about 1 1/2 cups)

1 dry chorizo, chopped (about 1/2 cup)

2 Tbsp fresh parsley

1/2 Tbsp tomato paste

1/4 tsp smoked paprika

2 garlic cloves, thinly sliced

1/2 tsp fresh rosemary

extra virgin olive oil

salt

pepper

1. In a soup pot, brown sausage (not chorizo) in olive oil until dark and crispy on the outside. Remove to a plate and set aside. Add cabbage to the pot and saute until slightly wilted and reduced in volume by half. Add garlic and rosemary and saute until garlic is fragrant, about 1 minute. Season with a pinch of salt and pepper.

2. Stir in tomato paste and paprika and  cook until dissolved, about 30 seconds. Add beans, chorizo and broth and bring to a boil. Cook until cabbage is done (not mushy, with a little bite), and add the sausage before serving. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Enjoy!

-Laura

Mon Petit Chou

I've always found it strange that the French involve cabbage in their most common term of endearment, "mon petit chou" (as I learned in my 6th grade French class many years ago). I can't think of a less appealing vegetable visually, to say nothing of the way it smells. I don't know many people that routinely profess their love for it either, so why the famous expression? A little research told me that some people believe it refers to the French word for cream puff, which evidently has some common etymology or reference to cabbage. It certainly is a more romantic reference, but it just so happens that I actually bought a "petit chou" the other day at the farmers market, which got this whole language ball rolling. While it was cuter than your average cabbage and only about the size of my fist, I must say that it presented the same problems as a regular old cabbage the size of my head. What the heck do I do with it, and will I want to eat the results when I'm finished?

But since I'm scraping the bottom of the seasonal food barrel, I felt like I had no choice but to buy the little bugger. I haven't made any cabbage this winter and it's in season, so I figured I'd at least give it a shot. I'm generally not a fan of masking natural flavor and texture, instead choosing to work with whatever the natural characteristics of an ingredient are and enhancing them whenever possible. But I knew this particular ingredient would prove difficult to tame and enhance in any positive way, so I made sure to take my time coming up with a recipe. As a lover of all things tart and sour, I tend to like my cabbage with plenty of pucker, which also happens to be a great remedy for the smelly and generally unpleasant taste and smell of boiled or overcooked cabbage. So after delving into the recipe archives, (the recent Ruth Reichl lecture in the back of my mind) I found a solution in the most recent December issue of Gourmet. A lovely looking recipe for balsamic-braised red cabbage was paired with sweet pan-seared scallops. I'd have to settle for just the cabbage, but it looked like the right idea.

The dish was easy and the final product was tasty, although I had to make major adjustments to the recipe. It was definitely short on liquids, and if you followed the recipe to the letter, the result (at least on my stove, with my pans) would have been a burnt, gloppy reduction and undercooked cabbage. But with some extra water and a few extra tablespoons of vinegar, it actually came out beautifully, not to mention better than I expected. The cabbage still had some bite and wasn't too mushy or limp, and the flavor was great. Slightly acidic, but also a bit sweet, the balsamic vinegar was a perfect foil, and the butter made it silky and luscious (two words I have yet to hear alongside "cabbage"). It'd be a great side dish to pair with roast chicken or pork chops, or even with spiced scallops like the recipe originally says. Here's my version:

Balsamic-Braised Red Cabbage

adapted from Gourmet, December 2008

1 small head red cabbage, cored and thinly sliced

3 Tbsp butter

2 bay leaves

2 cups water

5 Tbsp balsamic vinegar

salt

ground black pepper

Melt butter in a large non-stick skillet over medium heat. Add cabbage, bay leaves, 1 tsp salt, and cracked black pepper, tossing to coat. Stir in 1 cup water and 4 tablespoons of vinegar, tossing to coat. Cover and simmer, stirring occasionally, until cabbage is cooked through. If the cabbage starts to get dry, and more water 1/4 cup at a time until cabbage is tender. Enjoy!

-Laura

Get Your Green On, Part II

I cannot get enough of greens. It may have something to do with the lack of heat in my apartment as the temperature dips below 45 degrees at night, or perhaps because I've been battling a second round of sore throat, but I've been crazily craving greens. Two weeks ago I made a delicious and super fragrant dish of kale with fall spices. Last week, as I shivered beneath my wool blanket I began to think about another great way to make greens. We've all heard of collards slow cooked with smoked ham hocks, so I figured (possibly in a frost bitten state of hallucination), why not try replicating these flavors in a faster, simpler, easier dish, with a quick cooking green?

While spinach would have been super fast and very healthy, I still had an entire bunch of beautiful red kale sitting in my fridge. It takes slightly longer to cook than other greens --probably because it's actually a wild type of cabbage and not actually a "green"--but it's very good for you, which is why it's a common ingredient in vegan cooking. It's hyper-rich in Vitamins A and C, and is being extensively researched as a possible cancer preventer. All of these amazing health benefits aside, it's actually super tasty and has a nice crunch and bite that other greens don't. So instead of taking the sweet-meets-savory route that I did last time, I figured I'd make that nice, hearty collards and hammocks inspired dish with some fresh chorizo and smoky bacon. And since it'd been a while since I added a little Spanish twist to something, I decided to saute the whole dish in some paprika and garlic infused olive oil.

I started out by cooking up the bacon in a nonstick skillet, then removing it to a plate and cooking up the chorizo in the bacon drippings and then removing that to a plate with the bacon. Then I created a simple refrito, which is just garlic cooked in olive oil until just before it starts to brown, with a tablespoon of paprika added to the oil after it cools down off of the heat. Then I started sautéing the kale in batches on medium-low heat (paprika can burn easily, so don't be tempted to turn it up much higher). Once it all cooked down so the whole bunch fit in the pan, I added some wine, malt vinegar and water (apple cider or juice would be delicious too!). After covering it and lowering the heat so it could slowly wilt and cook down, it was ready to be served. I added the meats back in, tossed it all together then served it up. There was hardly any effort involved at all, and I had a big heaping plate of healthy greens by the end of it (despite the chorizo and bacon). It was so hearty, I didn't even end up grilling the steak I meant to eat with it, I just ate the whole plate of greens. Here's the final recipe:

Spanish Style Red Kale with Chorizo and Bacon

1 bunch red kale (green would do as well, but takes less time to cook)
1 fresh chorizo sausage, casing removed
4 strips of bacon, roughly chopped
Extra virgin olive oil
2 large garlic cloves, thinly sliced
1 Tbsp smoked paprika
1/4 cup white wine
2 Tbsp malt vinegar (cider vinegar would also work)
1/3 cup water
salt
pepper

1. Cook bacon in a large non-stick skillet until crispy and remove to a plate. Add chorizo to skillet, breaking it up with a wooden spoon and cook until done. Remove to plate with bacon.

2. Add olive oil to pan if there are not enough drippings (I needed about 2 tablespoons) in the pan, along with the garlic. Cook on medium-low heat until just starting to brown, then remove from heat. When the oil has stopped sizzling, add paprika to oil and stir to combine (this is called a refrito).

3. Return pan to heat and add kale in batches until it all fits in the skillet. Add white wine and vinegar and cook covered until kale is wilted and cooked through (about 10-15 minutes). Add bacon and chorizo, pepper, and taste for salt (mine only needed a pinch). Serve and enjoy!

-Laura

The Quest Continues

After a weekend of eating processed and fatty (albeit delicious) food while out of town, it was clear that I needed to do my best to return to my usual eating habits. Since springtime brings out the best in me (spring vegetables + bacon = the best in me) I figured the time had come to make some more spring veggies as a sort of cleanse. I generally run screaming from anything that even sounds like a cleanse, but in this case I actually felt like my body needed it, and that almost never happens. I figured I'd start with something like cabbage, which in my never ending quest to convince the world to try unpopular foods, needs all the support it can get.

Like brussels sprouts and other green things from our childhood, cabbage has long been massacred by mothers across America. For years the culinary heads of our households were braising cabbage for up to an hour, breaking down its every fiber and creating a stench so foul that even the dog pretended not to be hungry. But it's not their fault. As I mentioned in my brussels sprouts post, it had long been held true that certain veggies were to be cooked in in bitter liquids for upwards of 30 minutes. The fact is that not only do most vegetables lose the majority of their nutrients in that kind of preparation, but their flavor is transformed into a smelly mess, and the texture becomes a disaster the likes of which FEMA couldn't fix. So it's no surprise that you rarely hear people say that there's nothing they'd love more than a big bowl of cabbage.

But that could all change if we give this delicious veggie a chance. Whether in a salad preparation, pickled or stir-fried, cabbage is quick to cook up, good for you, and actually really tasty. And like anything in my repertoire, it's great when paired with bacon or other pork products. This time I paired a mild napa cabbage (also known as Chinese cabbage) with some sweet and plump spring peas (which I prefer frozen because they're picked and frozen at their peak), spring onions and honey ham. For a bit of zing and a bit of freshness I added a good helping of lemon zest and the juice of half a lemon to brighten up the flavor. The dish takes only about 15 minutes to prepares and makes an excellent side dish. Here's the recipe:

Napa Cabbage with Peas and Ham

1/2 a large Napa cabbage, shredded
1 garlic clove, thinly sliced
1 spring onion, finely chopped
1 cup honey ham, cut into strips
1 cup frozen peas
6 Tbsp olive oil
Juice and zest of half a lemon
Grated Parmesan cheese
salt
pepper

1.Heat oil, garlic and spring onion in a large skillet. Cook until just before garlic starts to brown and add cabbage, ham and lemon zest.

2. When the cabbage starts to wilt (about 5 minutes), add the peas and cook until cabbage is done, about 1-2 more minutes. Season with salt and pepper and add lemon juice. Toss to coat and serve topped with Parmesan cheese. Enjoy!

-Laura

Why So Blue?

Well, it was bound to happen. My mom has left, and now my apartment, which only two days ago felt stifling and repressive, feels surprisingly lonely and empty. Fortunately, I have a refrigerator full of random ingredients and leftovers to keep me company. Few challenges get me out of a rut like pulling together a meal from scraps. I love puzzles, and even though cooking can be a puzzle unto itself, nothing is better than taking random pieces and putting them together to see if they fit. The likelihood for disaster is high, but it's almost always certain that you learn something along the way. Even if it ends up in the garbage.

So as I stretched out on my once crowded sofa, I got to thinking about what, if anything, I could do with the odd assortment of goodies left in my fridge. There were vegetable remnants from various soups and stews, a few meaty, plump beef shanks, several cheese and deli meats, a smattering of fresh spices, and two heaping bowls of salsa. Although nothing in particular was calling out to me, I decided to try making something somewhat out of my comfort zone. Half a head of cabbage was holding up surprisingly well in my crisper, so I figured I'd give it a go and see how many other scrappy bits I could make work. I thought about adding a few other veggies and possibly braising the cabbage in stock, but I've never been one to make a vegetable heavy dish. So instead, I decided to pack in the pork. That's right, loads of salty, crispy bacon and spicy, juicy morsels of chorizo. But I wanted more for this dish than just the usual porcine suspects--something completely different that would give it depth of flavor was clearly in order.

What could I possibly have waiting in the wings that could stand up to the already bold (and completely perfect) favors of bacon and chorizo? Cheese, that's what. I had Parmesan, which would get completely lost amid the flavors in the dish, and a fairly strong Gouda that didn't really excite me at all. But then I spotted it, way in the back of the fridge, tightly wrapped in foil--a nice chunk of Roquefort. Would blue cheese work? Would I be ruining my dinner and wasting a pricey piece of cheese on a culinary pipe dream? Would the pungent smells of cabbage and blue cheese frighten the neighbors? So like any modern gal, I took to the internet and found that there are already recipes out there for cabbage in blue cheese sauce and cabbage stuffed with blue cheese, so I figured melting a few rich chunks of Roquefort couldn't hurt.


It actually turned out to be quite the delicious dish! I must admit that I may have gone a bit overboard with the meat products, but they tasted great to me. I shredded the cabbage so that every piece of bacon and chorizo was nestled against a long, fragrant tendril of cabbage. The cabbage itself took on a lovely languid texture, nice and soft without being the least bit mushy. I mixed in a bit of the blue cheese and then studded the top of the dish with a few pieces as well. It stood up well to the other flavors without overwhelming them. In the end, I was pleasantly surprised with how successful the dish was--it was definitely hearty enough to eat as a main dish by myself. The recipe will be for the quantity I made, but it multiplies easily, and would definitely be more than enough as a side dish for two people. Here's how to make it for yourself.

Sautéed Cabbage with Bacon, Chorizo and Roquefort

1/2 a head of cabbage, shredded
1 chorizo
2 pieces fatty bacon, sliced
2 large cloves of garlic, thinly sliced
1/2 tsp thyme (ground or roughly chopped are fine)
1 tsp parsley
3 tsp lemon juice
1/4 cup Roquefort or other blue cheese
salt
pepper (white is best, but black will do)
extra virgin olive oil (optional)

1. Add cabbage to a pot of salted, boiling water. Cook until cabbage is almost done but still has a bit of a bite. Drain and set aside.

2. Cook bacon in a large sauté pan until crispy. Remove and set aside.

3. Allow rendered fat to cool, then add garlic and chorizo to pan on medium low heat. Before the garlic starts to brown, add the cabbage and sauté on medium heat. Add the thyme, parsley, and pepper and check for salt. If it looks a bit dry, add the olive oil.

4. Add lemon juice, cook for another minute then stir through half of the blue cheese.

5. Plate and top with remaining blue cheese. Enjoy!

-Laura