I have a problem with risotto. Nothing against, in fact, quite the opposite...I can't get enough. I love cooking with fresh ingredients and altering them as little as possible and risotto is the perfect foil. Some veggies, like greens, can be slowly folded in, gently wilting in the heat of warm broth and lending their flavor to the rice, instead of losing it to blanching water, or being masked by onions and garlic. But it's not just vegetables that make me love this rice dish, it's risotto's ability to absorb any flavor you send its way. As the rice cooks, it gently releases starch granules, giving it the signature creaminess risotto is known for. That creamy liquid then easily takes on the flavor of whatever you choose to put in your risotto, be it fresh vegetables, saffron, herbs, or a purée (like mushroom or butternut squash). That means you get significantly more flavor bang for your buck, and with minimal effort, to boot. Twenty minutes of stirring and a little chopping (or not, if you're using a purée) and you're well on your way to a flavorful and elegant dish. It's no surprise then, that risotto is one of the first things great seasonal restaurants add to their menu when they want to showcase a special ingredient. Be it morels, fiddlehead ferns, ramps or summer squash, there's no better way to spotlight great ingredients and rich flavors than with a risotto.
And so, a flavor junkie like myself needs to learn a little self control in order to avoid exponential waistline growth (all that starch is no good for a slim tummy). Gone are the days when I made risotto once or twice a week, relying on the short 22-minute cooking time and knowing I'd have a chic meal in roughly the time it took to make a tuna fish sandwich. Now I treat risottos as good restaurants do: as a platform for particularly lovely ingredients to shine. It's with that in mind that the latest incarnation of risotto primavera came to mind. With more rainbow swiss chard, turnips and garlic scapes than I knew what to do with thanks to my CSA, I figured, what better way to get the most flavor out of these organic guys, than to toss them all into a risotto and let them sing? And sing they did, in perfect harmony with each other, every ingredient adding its own layer of flavor and resulting in a creamy dish so delicious I didn't even add the parmesan cheese at the end. Each veggie went in at a different stage in the cooking process, with the garlic scapes going first so they'd have enough time to soften and also so they could sauté with the onion and rice and release some subtle garlic flavor. Then came the turnips, which were small and tender, so although they needed a little bit more time to cook, it wasn't as bad as if they'd been large. And last came the swiss chard, which I folded in along with the last ladleful of broth to keep them bright green and with a little bit of bite.
Altogether the dish had an earthy, full flavor, a little sweetness from the turnips, some deep vegetable flavor from the swiss chard, and the slightest hint of garlic flavor from the scapes. Overall it was very impressive, not to mention beautiful. I made sure to utilize those swiss chard stems, which can be tough if left whole, but that easily soften in the broth and add so much beautiful color and flavor when diced. The turnips turned a lovely yellow, having absorbed the color of the broth, and the chard remained bright green with striking yellow and red stripes down the center. I promise you, one taste of this dish and you'll be craving not only risotto, but fresh spring veggies. Here's the final recipe:
Spring Risotto
(serves 2)
1 1/2 cups arborio rice
1 large or 2 small green onions (whites only), chopped
1/2 lb rainbow or green swiss chard, leaves julienned, stems diced
5 small turnips or 3 large, diced
4 garlic scapes, cut into 2 inch batons
4-5 cups chicken or vegetable broth, warmed
1/4 cup grated parmesan cheese (optional)
extra virgin olive oil salt
1. In a large, non-stick skillet, saute spring onions and swiss chard stems in olive oil until fragrant, about a minute. Add rice and cook until white and opaque.
2. Add a ladleful of broth and turnips. Lower heat to a simmer, and stir until broth is absorbed. Add more broth, stirring frequently until absorbed. Repeat until rice is cooked through and only slightly al dente.
3. Add swiss chard before the last ladleful of broth. Stir until swiss chard is wilted and risotto is creamy. Add parmesan cheese if desired, and serve. Enjoy!
-Laura
Well dear readers, I am back in culinary action and with a vengeance thanks to my new CSA program. After a long hiatus and semi-self-imposed break, I've been officially reinvigorated. On Wednesday I picked up my first batch of certified organic seasonal produce grown in Norwich, New York on the Norwich Meadows farm, which provides the majority of the products for my CSA (community supported agriculture). They also source nearby farms in order to provide a greater variety or products, so the eggs may come from one farm and the honey from another. The pick-up was just a few blocks from my house in Hells Kitchen and super easy. Each member comes ready to weigh or count out their share of each vegetable and places it in what are hopefully reused or reuseable bags. If there's something you already have enough of, don't want, or don't need, there is a swap box where members can make an even exchange of produce. I was a little disappointed that we got such a large number of turnips (which I'm not quite sure how to use), and assumed that I'd just find a swap box full of turnips. But it turns out that my fellow shareholders are more creative than I, and the box was chock full of the other goodies we were provided with. Among them was a carefully curated bag of gorgeous rainbow swiss chard (the greens were mixed this week, but you could sort through them if you wanted a particular type), which I immediately swapped for my enormous bag of turnips. All leftover and unclaimed shares are donated to the church where the pick-up is held and passed on to the homeless, so at least I know that if I can't make it one week, my food is going to someone that needs it.
Even though there were several other goodies in my bag (including green garlic, purple spring onions, bok choy and rainbow radishes), I was overly excited to make the swiss chard. I love greens, particularly swiss chard, and had been waiting for them to appear at the farmers market. They've only recently started showing up in micro green form and are still on the pricier side, so I was overjoyed to have a double dose of full grown leaves (and a few little guys) to work with. Swiss chard looks hearty, but unlike its winter green cousins, actually cooks down quite easily and very quickly since it's not built to withstand the winter cold. I didn't get to take on braised greens very much this winter, so I decided a quick braise with a few treats thrown in would do the trick on a humid, rainy day. After doing some research I decided that I could add some nuts for crunch (I went with toasted pine nuts) and maybe a fruit or raisin for texture. I was going to start out with dark currants, but ended up choosing dried cranberries. I lack a sweet tooth and instead have the less common tart tooth, so I figured I'd add some bite with the cranberries.
The dish came together incredibly quickly, if fact, chopping up the stems is what took the longest. Some people like throwing them out, but I highly recommend keeping them for crunch and color. And if you don't want to use them here, don't toss them! Keep them and throw 'em into a soup or stock for flavor, and even a little color (the red stems impart a nice hue on stocks and sauces). I was initially a bit worried about the cranberries, thinking that they may not act as required, but they were more than up to the task, transitioning from wrinkly, prune-y lumps to gorgeous, plump, ruby hued spheres. They even lost a bit of their tartness as they cooked, lending the dish just the right bit of balance. the little bit of chicken stock that I braised everything in really helped tenderize the greens and added a bit of depth to the dish. In the end it turned out great, and would make a delicious side dish to almost any meal (or a great vegetarian meal). The rainbow colors are gorgeous, nice and bright for this time of year, or you could go with regular green swiss chard and have a nice Christmas colored dish on your hand. I was really happy with my first dish made in a good long while, so here's the very easy recipe I came up with.
Rainbow Swiss Chard With Cranberries And Pine Nuts
1 1/2 lbs rainbow swiss chard (regular green will do), stems and leaves roughly chopped
2 large or 4 small spring onions, whites and light green parts thinly sliced
3 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
2 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1/2 cup pine nuts, toasted
1/2 cup dried cranberries (currants or sour cherries would work too)
1/3 cup chicken or non-tomato based vegetable stock
salt, to taste
pepper
1. Heat oil, spring onion and garlic in a large skillet until onion is soft and garlic is fragrant. Add pine nuts and cranberries and cook until cranberries are plump, about 2 minutes.
2. Add swiss chard in batches until it is all in the pan, slightly wilted. Add stock, season with salt and pepper and toss to coat. Cook, covered, until stock is mostly absorbed and swiss chard is cooked through but not soggy. Taste for salt and pepper and serve. Enjoy!
-Laura
As a few disgruntled readers have pointed out, I've been noticeably absent from the blog for a week or two. The bad news is that I've been a bit lazy due to my recent unemployment. I thought I'd have all the time in the world to cook and experiment until I found another job (I have a bit of a bright side complex), but the truth is that not having a reason to get up early in the morning is tough, and really sets a bleak and apathetic tone for the day. Coming home and cooking was always my way of leaving the work day behind, of stretching my culinary muscles and getting creative by giving the logical side of my brain a rest. I don't know if I'm more upset that my job was cut (this economy thing really does affect everyone) or that my favorite part of cooking was taken away without my permission. But that's all fodder for a different kind of blog.The good news is that I haven't actually stopped cooking, and it's still my favorite thing to do. Even better, while I probably won't be taking any road trips any time soon, my last one provided quite a bit of culinary inspiration all on its own. Our last night in Montreal involved a rich and delicious meal at Le Club Chasses et Pêche, an underground restaurant that somehow managed to blur the line between chic bordello and hunting lodge. The sleek lights were dimly lit while the amber glow of simple white candles illuminated each spectacular dish. The menu is based on the restaurant's theme of hunting and fishing (as the wall mounted antlers reinforced), and has been considered a modern and elegant take on "surf and turf". Needless to say, it is certainly the most refined version of surf and turf I've ever seen, starting with the exquisite piglet risotto, and followed by a veal and sweetbreads dish served over bacon, artichokes, greens, mushrooms and a curious unknown ingredient.
It looked like a curly seashell and crunched like a radish, but with a mild flavor that we just couldn't place. Was it a potato and the fancy knifework of a talented chef? Some kind of root vegetable? Some weirdo pearl onion? These question gnawed at me for days, until a week later I came upon the following sign at the farmers market:
After being borderline rude and slightly violent to the tourists blocking my view, I elbowed my way to the front and found the answers I'd been looking for. And after accosting the vendor with questions for a good five minutes and trying a handful of them raw, I knew I had to give these little buggers (actually called "crosnes") a go. It turns out they are popular in France and named after the town where they were cultivated after their import from China in the nineteenth century. They're also known as Chinese or Japanese artichokes, and taste like a lot like a mild sunchoke with a radishy crunch. They're meant to be eaten with the skin on, since that is what provides most of their actual flavor. Without the skin they'd be flavorless and discolor quickly. It was just my luck that they happen to be in season during the winter, which explains why I saw them twice in a row this time of year.
It didn't take long to figure out what to do with them, since I'd been wanting to try a dish based on some of the flavors I'd experienced in Montreal. Everything there had a deeper, richer flavor, even if it wasn't creamy or particularly heavy. I began to realize that everything was made with beef, veal or duck stock instead of chicken stock. There was an inherent salty goodness and depth of flavor to all of the reductions, sauces and soups, that I just wasn't used to tasting here in New York. That very day I bought some beautiful greens (rainbow swiss chard, to be exact) and delicious shiitake mushrooms, and planned to build a dish inspired by Montreal. In the end I braised the chard in beef stock, with the mushrooms and crosnes, along with shallots and lots of finely sliced garlic. The dish was amazing, and achieved exactly the kinds of flavors I was looking for. If you can't find crosnes, diced sunchoke would make a great substitute. Here's what I came up with:
Braised Swiss Chard with Shiitake Mushrooms and Crosnes
4 cups loosely packed swiss chard (I used rainbow), tough stems removed
1 1/2 cups shiitake mushrooms, sliced, stems removed
1 1/2 cups crosnes
1 cup beef or veal stock
1 large or two small shallots, thinly sliced
2 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
3 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil
salt
pepper
1. Add shallots and extra virgin olive oil to a large, non-stick skillet and sauté on medium heat. When the shallots begin to caramelize, add the garlic, crosnes and mushrooms and cook until mushrooms soften.
2. Add swiss chard to skillet in batches until it's all wilted and fits in the pan. Cook a minute further, then add 1/2 cup stock and season with pepper. Cover and cook on low heat until stock is absorbed. Taste for salt (I only needed a pinch since my stock was salty). If the greens are still not cooked through, add 1/4 cup broth and cook covered until they're tender and wilted. Enjoy!
-Laura
