Archive for the ‘greens’ category

dandelion days

May 5, 2013

On arrival last week, I surprised not to see bright dandelions dotting the lawn—like everything else, they’re behind schedule this spring. Since I’m late to the garden party, too, I’m OK with their tardiness; I know that once the blooms do show up, the greens turn from pleasantly bitter to tough and aggressive.

I’ve been eating the greens on and off for the last week, and even though there are plenty of immature plants available for harvest, I’ve noticed the young leaves are tougher than usual—hungover and disoriented from their extra-long winter nap, they’ve come up fighting. It takes an extra measure of determination (in the form of prolonged chewing) to assimilate them.

Friday saw the first splashes of yellow, which was not entirely bad news, as I’ve been wanting to try this. For dinner, I thought I’d prepare dandelions two ways, beginning with my standby method with the greens (slowly brown onions, add sherry vinegar, boil down while stirring with a spoon dipped in honey, add greens). After I threw the greens in the pot, I clapped on the lid, turned off the heat, and began the fritters.  I didn’t have milk, so I substituted yogurt thinned with water. I also used a blend of quinoa flour and corn flour (more of the former). And I added some snipped chives—a brighter echo of the caramelized alliums in the greens.Image

Dip. Twirl. Sizzle. Hmmm…. the bottoms darkened but the tops remained quite liquid. Of course I hadn’t brought the recipe into the kitchen with me, and of course I didn’t think to go upstairs and review it. Had I done so, I would have seen that the instructions say to flip the flowers. I might also have noticed that the illustrations showed stems trimmed to nothing between the time of the dipping and the finished product (although the recipe made no mention of this tedious task). Luckily, I had the oven on for something else, so I moved the fritters in for a few minutes—problem solved. They were delicious, nicely complemented by some of last year’s pickled beets, but too fussy to repeat anytime soon.Image

The next morning, I added a chopped handful of dandelion greens and some sesame seeds to the leftover fritter batter. I probably would have had better luck if I had tried several smaller fritters instead of one large one (which fell apart). Not exactly what I had pictured when starting out, but once doctored with some sriracha, sesame seeds and cilantro, it was a great start to the day.Image

Once, I saw dandelions only as unwanted competition for the plants I chose to tend and did my utmost to eradicate them. But after a couple of years of wrestling with the green-and-gold bullies, I found some respect on the flip side of my annoyance. These “weeds” are masterful in their employment of two opposite, yet equally successful, survival strategies. With their hairy taproots, they dig deep; at the same time, their achenes—aided by aerodynamic pappus—have perfected the art of letting go.

My admiration hasn’t stopped me from trying to rout them from my garden, but I’m no longer so hard on myself when I see that familiar cluster of jagged leaves emerge….again. I know that their will—and skill—for survival is far beyond my feeble attempts at suppression.

And besides, they’re delicious.

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salad days

July 3, 2011

thursday morning harvest

greens with home fries

arugula fennel frittata

lettuces w/marinated strawberries & toasted squash seeds... frittata on the side

struggling toward spring

May 12, 2011

The journey along the 200 miles that separate New York City from Otsego County is a trip not just through geography, but through time. In the city’s immediate suburbs, lawns are lush and neat, having already been subjected to several buzzes with the lawnmower. But as you head up the river, late spring dials back to early mud season. The grass becomes patchy and slightly wild, like the hair of a toddler yet to go under the clippers, and densely dotted with dandelions. Some of the city trees have already acquired the glossy opacity of summer, but to the north the bright wet green of the newborn leaves seems almost unnatural, like the color of a blown-to-bursting birthday balloon. Further up the road to winter, brown and black still predominate, softened only by a scattering of muddy evergreens.

Winter hangs around for a long time in Otsego County, but even so the small, leafy garden just off the kitchen, well-stocked with perennials and self-seeders, is beginning to awaken. Poking around, I find some patches of kale and wild arugula beginning come back, so I begin the finicky task of removing weeds around them. This space is home to one pretty invader whose main defense is fragility. With the barest tickle, her  spreading, round-leafed greens come away from the soil, but they inevitably leave a tangle of roots — fine as cornsilk — behind. It would be much more efficient for me to scoop out the entire top layer — weeds and wanted plants together — and start anew. But with our short growing season, a couple of weeks of early growth are near priceless.

It’s too early to set out most fruiting-type plants; Memorial Day weekend is the “safe” time up here, though it’s not uncommon to have to cover tomatoes against a June frost. There are some seeds — mostly root vegetables — that can be cheated a little bit early, and so I spend a couple of hours digging up a few rows. Since I’m only working a small section, I use my favorite tool, a short-handled fork alternating with my fingers. (At the end of the month, when I have only a couple of days to fill out the remaining 1000’, I will resort to tools that offer more power, if less finesse.) While I’m at it, I clear around the garlic, planted last fall.

It’s slow going, but the hands-in-the-dirt method is the only hope of truly routing out a weed, roots and all. Also, it’s wonderful to greet the earthworms that seem to be more abundant with each year. Working slowly and close to the ground, I’m able to remove them from the path of my sharp tools… most of the time. Inevitably I find myself apologizing to severed halves of these beneficial creatures. Of course, the joke’s on me — the sorrow I feel upon slicing a worm is about as logical as the triumph I feel upon getting out (almost) a dandelion root. It is only a matter of time before what appears to be violence reveals itself as nothing more than a means of propagation.

raiding the pantry

January 6, 2011

It’s taken me awhile to figure it out, but now I know: eating well in winter is more about planning than canning. Shell beans, winter squash, potatoes, garlic go from the ground to the pantry with no processing required. So I planted lots of them. This December, I spent more time in Roseboom than anywhere else, so it was a great opportunity to enjoy the fruits of my labors.  

I. Spicy peanut-squash stew. Hack a giant squash in two and set it to roast in the oven, along with a head or two of garlic, anointed with oil and wrapped in foil. On the stove, soften chopped onions and garlic in olive oil, then add spices (I used cumin, coriander, cayenne) and toast a bit. Scoop in some peanut butter, plus maybe a little water, and stir until melted; turn off heat. Squish the roasted garlic into the pot. When the squash is manageable, peel and chop into cubes. Add these to the pot, along with enough water to get the consistency you want. At this point you can puree into an elegant bisque-like creation (maybe add some cream or coconut milk) but I prefer a chunky, inelegant stew. It is especially good with brown rice added, but all I had was crushed wheat, and that worked pretty well. Something green added just before serving is always a good idea, and I was able to dig some kale out of the snow—at least the for the first few servings.

II. Black beans, brown beer, purple potatoes. I once read a recipe for black beans cooked in dark beer until the beans were soft and the beer reduced to a syrup. With company expected for dinner, I needed to stretch the recipe a bit, so while the beans simmered in Ommegang I sauteed onions in oil, followed by spices, then added water and some chopped purple potatoes. (Regular potatoes would work as well, but they take on an unappetizing gray color in black bean soup.) Combined the pots, added some garlic, and voila: a nice hearty supper. I also chopped up some of last summer’s dried tomatoes, added them to warm olive oil, and served on homemade bread provided by my guests.

III. Extravagant lentils. Sometime in January, my kitchen is going to be gutted. So this business of cooking from the existing larder is not just about feeding myself and avoiding the trip to the market. It’s also about spending down the stores before I have to move the contents of my kitchen into the living room. This makes me feel a lot better about decimating supplies of luxury ingredients like dried porcini mushrooms. I put them into a stew of lentils, roasted garlic, celery, and leftover red wine.

IV. Bean, tangerine…  Cook chopped-up tangerine (with peel) and onion until carmelized,then throw in some chopped ginger and red pepper flakes. Add squash seeds and cook til toasted. Green beans can go straight from the freezer to pot.

V. Nightshade elixir. Ground cherries were this year’s garden discovery. They look like small tomatillos and taste something like a tomato crossed with a pineapple. Starting in August, my one plant threw off a handful or two of ripe fruit every day. Just before the frost hit, I picked it clean, gathering more than 700 full pods, some more ripe than others. I put them in jars with vodka and honey. I’ve read that this kind of preparation should sit for six months, but I threw caution to the wind served them in shot glasses following a recent dinner. They taste like strawberries.

VI. Cornmeal mush. I’m glad the Quaker company has retained the traditional name for the most basic recipe on its cardboard canister. The Italian title may be more musical, but cornmeal mush is good enough for me. I had it for breakfast with butter and maple syrup, for lunch (after a freak thaw revealed perky greens under the snow) with kale and carmelized onions.

VII. Something Asian….ish. On New Year’s Day, my friends up the road host a party in their sweet little straw house. Guests are asked to bring an Asian dish to share. I had a few relevant ingredients on hand—a lime, ginger root, coconut, sesame seeds—but I couldn’t figure out how these might combine with the other ingredients in my winter pantry. So I mixed them up with an egg and some sugar and made macaroons.

monochromatic

June 28, 2010

It seems incredible that the garden has been monochromatic for so long. But it’s not that the squashes and tomatoes and melons are late—it’s that the greens came so early. There’s lettuce, lettuce everywhere, and not a thing to eat. My search for varied treatments is complicated this year by my lack of refrigeration—eggs and cheese can be great for mixing things up, but they’re not part of my palette at the moment.

A typical morning harvest looks like this…

 … which became shells with walnuts, garlic scapes, random greens and herbs, red pepper, coriander.

And salad, of course.

 Today, I’m eating assorted greens, cooked with rice and spices in coconut milk. Not so pretty, but delicious.

 The tomatoes can’t come soon enough… but I’m not complaining. Just because the garden isn’t offering much variety doesn’t mean I can’t keep things interesting.

potlucky

June 19, 2010

A designer has taken up residence in my barn. She’s the not the first tenant—a woodchuck moved in to the lower level earlier this spring—but she’s definitely the preferred tenant. On the rare days when we’re both home in the evenings, we sometimes meet at the picnic table for an impromptu potluck. She has a working refrigerator, so she brings the cold beer. I have a garden, so I bring the food.

So far, the yield is all greens, all the time. I love a good, simple salad, but a bowl of leaves is not dinner. Last night I began by pounding a large clove of garlic (I’m fighting a cold, and besides it tastes good) to a paste with some salt. Then I added about 3/4 cup of walnuts (for protein) and kept grinding. Since the walnuts contributed plenty of oil of their own, I just used water to thin, then tossed the creamy dressing with a mix of arugula, romaine, lots of fresh oregano, and some toasted stale bread.

good morning, sorrel!

May 16, 2010

You’re looking lovely today. That shade of green really suits you.

Come inside, I’d like to introduce you to a couple of friends of mine.This is Butter. And here comes Eggs.

Bread and Coffee have been waiting to meet you, too!

And you already know Chives, of course.

See, I knew you’d all get along.