Miso Happy

Dumplings are awesome. I like every incarnation of them, large and small, crispy and soft, and everything in between. There's a reason that every country on every continent has their own version, from naked gnudi to fluffy potato perogi. Like all amazing food that's popular these days, dumplings the world over began as peasant food, filled with leftovers, cheap cuts of meat and affordable roots and vegetables. Some of them don't have fillings at all, but are instead self-contained balls of dough, corn or matzoh, slowly swollen and puffed in hot liquid. I'm an equal opportunity food lover and enjoy these exposed dumplings just as much as their conservative counterparts.

But of all the shapes they take and all the myriad ways they can make it to my plate, nothing makes me happier than finding dumplings in my soup. I still remember taking refuge on cold winter days in a tiny noodle soup shop downtown. The servers spoke only Chinese so I pointed to a strangers heaping bowl of soup and asked for the same. I expected to find bok choy, scallions and some kind of meat, but much to my surprise there were tiny pork and shrimp dumplings tucked under my noodles. It was like finding the Christmas stash, only these gifts were meaty and wrapped in dough. I've learned to make my own noodle soups and classic Cantonese style dumplings since then, but recently I've started experimenting with new soups, and I think more interestingly, new dumplings.

I had an obscenely large sweet potato leftover from a shoot I styled recently and didn't have the faintest idea what to do with it, so I took a look at my recipe ideas list (I keep a list on my fridge of recipes I'd like to make, or of perishable ingredients I need to use pronto). On my list were a cornucopia of dumpling ideas, all using delicious springtime ingredients like fresh peas and asparagus. It was clear that I hadn't given any thought to applying winter vegetables to dumplings, and my goodness, what a great way to use up these winter roots and veggies! So, I took my sweet potato and sauteed it with spring onions, garlic and red pepper flake for a little heat. I used some of my leftover miso paste to make a quick, salty miso soup that contrasted well with the sweet pockets of bright orange dumplings. It was a delicious, warm, and believe it or not, incredibly refreshing meal. It also made for a nice, light dinner (which doesn't always happen in the winter when I crave comfort food), and made me realize that I can always use dumplings when I have leftover ingredients. Here's how to make them for yourself:

Miso Soup With Sweet Potato Dumplings
serves 4

6 cups of water
4 1/2 Tbsp light miso paste (shiro miso)
1 large sweet potato, peeled and cubed
1 large or 2 small spring onions, finely sliced
1 garlic clove
1/4 tsp red pepper flake
1/4 cup sherry or shiao hsing wine
3 Tbsp soy sauce, divided
2 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 Tbsp butter
juice of 1/2 a lemon
16-20 dumpling skins

1. Bring water to a boil and add miso paste, lemon juice and 2 tablespoons of soy sauce. Stir to combine and keep at a low simmer until the dumplings are ready.

2. Meanwhile, heat olive oil, butter, sweet potato, spring onions, garlic and red pepper flake in a non-stick skillet. Cook on medium-low heat until sweet potatoes are halfway cooked through. The scallions burn easily, so bring the heat down if they start browning.

3. Turn heat to low and add sherry or shiao hsing wine and soy sauce. Cover and allow to steam until sweet potatoes are soft and cooked through. Remove from the heat and mash sweet potato mixture (you could use a food processor, food mill or potato ricer, but I went with the old fashioned potato masher for easy clean-up).

4. Fill dumpling skins with 3/4 teaspoon of the mixture. Wet edges and seal by gathering the edge and lightly twisting it while you press it together. Drop dumplings in boiling miso soup and cook until skin is soft and slightly translucent (about 5-7 minutes). Serve with lemon wedges and extra sliced scallion. Enjoy!

-Laura

Sweet Child Of Mine

I have had a long and tumultuous love affair with sweet potatoes. It began innocently enough. I would see them once a year at the Thanksgiving table and ignore them, finding that they were generally bland and less sexy than the cornucopia of delicious dishes before me. As I grew older I eventually came to appreciate the simple pleasure of a baked sweet potato--the way its inherent sweetness complimented a tart cranberry sauce, how when it was lightly buttered it took on an almost whipped texture, and best of all, how it tasted after streaking a coral colored forkful through a juicy puddle of turkey gravy. But after a few happy years, my relationship with the sweet potato grew stale. I found myself disinterested and more and more drawn to the green beans laced with paprika and Spanish ham. Unable to resist the temptation of a creamy and luscious macaroni and cheese. Drooling at the mere thought of crispy turkey skin and moist stuffing.

It was only after several years of formal separation that I came to see the sweet potato in a new light. It was about 6 years ago when I first spent a Thanksgiving at the Cuadra household (my Thanksgiving home away from home), where I tasted a baked sweet potato dish that showed this humble ingredient in a new light. It finally became clear to me that like so many Thanksgiving ingredients, sweet potatoes need some sort of culinary wingman--that super charismatic, can't resist flavor that elevates it to where it needs to be to win you over. In this case, the part of the wingman was played by marshmallows, which because if their intense sweetness, allow the sweet potato to shine as a slightly more savory ingredient. Now I find myself attracted to the sweet potato dish, even stealing away the crunchy browned bits when no one is looking.

I was reminded of this relationship while perusing some of the stalls at the greenmarket this past weekend. I came across so many interesting new fall ingredients, including a lovely type of sweet potato that was completely foreign to me, known as the "finger" sweet potato. These sweet potatoes were long and nubby, and for the most part thinner than your index finger. They have a slightly redder skin than your average large sweet potato, but cook much faster and have a milder flavor. It took me a while to come up with something to do with them, but once I thought about roasting, I knew exactly what I wanted to do. I'd originally thought about a honey glaze, but had been wanting to experiment with a balsamic one, so I reduced some regular balsamic vinegar and sugar, then slowly melted in some butter to keep the glaze from hardening in the oven. I seasoned the whole thing with just a little salt (sometimes acid like vinegar can be interpreted by your taste buds as salty, so I didn't want to overdo it) and some dried thyme that I broke up with my fingers. It was delicious and fragrant, and left my apartment smelling of fall. Here's how to do it for yourself:


Roasted Finger Sweet Potatoes

1/3 cup balsamic vinegar
1 Tbsp sugar
2 cups finger sweet potatoes, peeled, or 2 large sweet potatoes cut into steak fries
1/2 stick of butter, cut into tablespoon slices
1/2 tsp dried or fresh thyme
salt
fresh ground black pepper

1. Preheat over to 400 F degrees.

2. Simmer vinegar and sugar in a non-stick skillet or saucier over medium-low heat until slightly reduced, about 3 minutes. Slowly add butter 1 piece at a time, stirring to combine (I like using a rubber spatula so the glaze doesn't stick and harden).

3. Add sweet potatoes and thyme to skillet and toss to coat. Cook 1 minute further and transfer sweet potatoes to a non-stick or foil covered baking sheet. Bake, stirring often, until potatoes are browned and cooked through, about 30-35 minutes. Enjoy!

-Laura