Showing posts with label sunchokes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sunchokes. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

How To Pull A Henry Higgins


Much like people, some vegetables are just not attractive. There, I said it. I know, I know, all people are beautiful in their own way, but let's get serious: If you had to choose between a gorgeous, plump peak tomato, or a knobby, peak Jerusalem artichoke, which would you choose? In fact, I can think of not one person holding their breath for any of the pale, hairy produce of winter, while most of us are clamoring for even just a glimpse at the season's first piece of asparagus. But again, as with people, sometimes the beauty of fresh ingredients lurks deep within, requiring careful coaxing and manipulation to shine through. But more often than not it lies just beneath the surface, requiring little more than a peel and scrub to reveal its inner Eliza Doolittle.

I recently decided to perform my own little My Fair Lady/Pygmalion style transformation on the aforementioned Jerusalem artichoke, also known as the sunchoke. Knobby and brown and generally unremarkable in flavor and appearance, they're often missed by farmers market shoppers or confused with potatoes and turnips and other miscellaneous winter produce. They certainly are the wallflower of the market, but something about them struck me during my most recent visit. Surrounded by the season's first spring greens—watercress, arugula, and baby swiss chard, I couldn't help but see these woody little suckers in a new light. Why not pair them with the best of what the season has to offer, dressing them (so to speak) with a simple and sophisticated vinaigrette? Adding some bright ingredients might act like a sweep of shadow over the lids or a dab of gloss on the lips, contouring the sunchokes and making up for what isn't there while accenting what works. Its crunchy texture and mild flavor are its best asset, which are easy to flaunt with the right companion ingredients.

With all of what was now available at the market it wasn't hard to find what to use or figure out what the final dish should be. I find sunchokes to be significantly more delicious in their raw state, which is crunchy with a raw potato-like texture. The flavor is somewhere between a Yukon gold potato and an artichoke heart or stem, which I much prefer to its cooked flavor (which I find to be overly sweet and reminiscent of parsnips). After wrestling with exactly what to do I decided to finely slice the sunchokes (which were at their peak and abnormally large and smooth) with my mandoline, and use them as a base for a transitional seasonal salad. I laid them flat on a plate, slightly overlapping each other, and gave them a good drizzle of extra virgin olive oil and a squeeze of lemon, which would help them to stay nice and bright (much like potatoes, they can start to brown once peeled). After a healthy pinch of salt and fresh black pepper I reached for the lovely spring greens I'd bought at the market—arugula, watercress and young rainbow Swiss chard, and dressed them simply as well (but with a little lemon zest for extra zip). I piled them high atop my plate, already blanketed with sunchokes, and ate the whole thing (along with seconds) as a light spring dinner.

The sunchokes held their own alongside the gorgeous greens, standing out for their snappy crunch and subdued sweetness, the perfect compliment to the airy, peppery greens. I'm sure we can all relate to this Cinderella story somehow, although I do find that with food (unlike people) it's a lot easier to make the unappealing beautiful. Sometimes it's about cracking that tough outer shell, or carefully peeling back the layers and digging deep within, like an artichoke whose thorny leaves struggle to protect its tender heart. I suppose in the end we're not so different from that artichoke. So the next time you see something at the market or in a store that looks tough, complicated, or maybe even a little bit ugly, give it a try. You never know what beauty and flavor may lurk beneath the surface.

Sunchoke and Spring Green Salad
(makes 2 generous portions or 4 salad course portions)

2 large or 4 small sunchokes (try to get the fattest ones you can find)
4 cups of spring greens (this can be anything from a mesclun mix to arugula, baby swiss chard, or watercress)
1 lemon (juice and zest)
extra virgin olive oil
kosher salt
freshly ground black pepper

1. Zest the lemon into a small bowl or plate and set both the lemon and the zest aside.

2. Thinly slice sunchokes (about 1/16 inch) using a mandoline or the slicing tool of a box grater (or very steady knife-work). Place slices flat on a plate so most of the plate is covered in a thin layer of overlapping slices. Drizzle with good extra virgin olive oil and lemon juice. Season liberally with salt and black pepper.

3. Place greens in a large bowl and drizzle lightly with extra virgin olive oil and lemon juice. Season liberally with salt and pepper and toss to combine. Add lemon zest and toss to combine. Top sunchokes with greens and serve. Enjoy!

-Laura

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Love Me Blender


It's taken a few years, several apartments and the kindness of many strangers, but I've finally amassed a decent bunch of kitchen bling. For all it's lack of counter and storage space, my kitchen now possesses nearly every appliance known to man, and certainly has everything I need to make pretty much anything. While I've fallen in and out of love with many appliances over the years, the one item that will always hold the most space in my heart is the blender. Year after year, as the weather turns cold and the bright, juicy produce of summer fades away, the markets overflow with greens and tough root vegetables. In my experience, in the only tool that consistently makes something delicious out of these less than lovely ingredients is a blender.

Whether you're looking to make a meal out of a soup, or a simple puree to garnish, the blender is the master of any task. Lately it's made its way off the pantry shelf to take up permanent residence on my kitchen counter. This time of year I'm especially drawn to making soups, not only because of what's in season, but because of the weather. It's way too easy for me to curl up under a blanket and dial those magic numbers that bring food to the door, so I always make sure and have the basics on hand to make a delicious soup out of almost anything. Having a blender means you're half-way there, and all you're missing are aromatics. With one onion or shallot and a clove of garlic you're ready to go. If you have a few herbs or spices you'll be golden, but otherwise all you need is some chicken broth. Keep those around (to recap: blender, onion, garlic, broth, herbs/spices) and you'll always have a warm meal within arms reach, and with the advent of dirtying only one pan.

My most recent soup came with the advent of
Jerusalem artichokes, also known as sunchokes, finally becoming prevalent at the farmers market. For anyone that's not familiar with them, Jerusalem artichokes are the tuber of a plant similar to the sunflower. They're said to taste faintly or artichoke, which they do, only very subtly (I think of them as part potato, part artichoke). It's important to choose those that have the smoothest skin, and if possible the thinest. Many people don't peel them, but I prefer to. If you plan on shaving them into a salad or using them in some other raw preparation, remember to soak them in acidulated water (water with lemon juice or white vinegar) to keep them from browning, as tubers often do. I quickly peeled and chopped mine, then sautéed them with onion, garlic and a handful of fresh thyme. I added some broth and a little something extra and clamped on the lid until everything was cooked through. After the mixture cooled down a bit I added it to the blender with a little more stock and pouf!--I had soup. I topped it off with some homemade croutons for crunch and some quickly sauteed chorizo for a little extra spice. Here's the recipe:

Jerusalem Artichoke Soup

4-5 medium Jerusalem artichokes, peeled and diced
1 onion, thinly sliced
2 small garlic cloves, roughly chopped
1 tsp fresh thyme
2 cups chicken or non-tomato based vegetable stock
1/4 cup cider or malt vinegar
salt
ground white pepper

1. Sauté onion and garlic on medium heat until starting to brown, then add Jerusalem artichokes, pepper and half of thyme mixture and sauté two minutes further.

2. Add vinegar and enough broth just to cover mixture, then cover and simmer until Jerusalem artichokes soften. Remove from heat and allow to cool slightly.

3. Carefully add entire contents of pan to blender and puree until smooth (remember to remove the center part of your blender lid when blending hot food to release the pressure). Add broth as necessary to achieve proper consistency and help your blender along. Taste for salt and pepper and serve garnished with croutons and chopped chorizo (or anything you like). Enjoy!

-Laura