Learning to Love Turnips

The fun part about eating seasonally is getting to try new things. There has been a lot of that so far this spring, what with the ramps and spring garlic. When I was at Union Square last week on one of my semi-regular lunchtime farmers market trips, I came upon turnip greens, and realized they would be the perfect side to the bison flank steak I had marinating in the fridge for dinner. At this time of year, the turnip greens are attached to little turnips freshly plucked from the ground, so you can eat the whole plant.


my how dirty you are

I feel like Alice Waters, cooing over baby vegetables emerging from the earth, such as turnips and radishes, that can be sliced and eaten raw in salads or dipped in mayonnaise or butter and popped whole into one's mouth. I added some baby turnips to a variation on my Greek salad last week and they served me just fine.


before: raw potatoes and turnips

However, I've never been a fan of roasted or mashed turnips, which always seem to more sour and bitter than their raw counterparts. But give that I'd only ever roasted old turnips that had been stored winter-long, I thought I would give these baby turnips the benefit of the doubt and hope that they would come out sweeter. They didn't.


after: rosemary roasted potatoes and turnips

But luckily, I also roasted potatoes alongside the turnips to round things out. I scattered olive oil, salt, pepper, and dried rosemary from my container garden over the veggies, and roasted them until they browned on the bottom. Mmm. I managed to eat all of my turnips, with the help of mouthfuls of roasted potatoes.


before: just-washed turnip greens

As for the turnip greens, I wasn't sure how to cook them. I ended up steaming them and then sauteeing similar to my typical kale preparation, which seemed appropriate because its shape, broad leaves intersected by thick stems, reminded me of kale. However, unlike kale, these greens actually do wilt down - from what seemed to be an overwhelming bunch of greens that I feared we would be eating for days, down to two manageable side portions. And those two portions were delicious, healthy, and restorative - a deep green, a little sweet and not so bitter, warmed up with lemon and mustard. Apparently turnip greens are so full of vitamins that they are on the list of the world's healthiest foods. Paired with garlic, also on the list of world's healthiest foods, extra virgin cold pressed olive oil, lean and iron-rich bison steak, and roasted potatoesand turnips, this was one healthy meal indeed. Nothing like devouring a terrific meal and feeling good about myself while I do it.


after: sauteed turnip greens and spring garlic

Sauteed Turnip Greens and Spring Garlic

1 bunch turnip greens
extra virgin olive oil
2 stalks spring garlic
1 tbsp mustard
2 tsp lemon juice
1 tbsp water
salt
pepper
crushed red pepper

Chop baby turnip roots off turnip greens and reserve the turnips for another use. Rinse greens thoroughly. Trim off the stems, and chop rough pieces.

Steam over simmering water for about five minutes, stirring occasionally, until the turnip greens are mostly wilted.

Meanwhile, mince spring garlic and sautee the garlic in olive oil over medium low heat until softened and slightly browed. Add turnip greens and continue to sautee, turning the heat down to low. Whisk together mustard, lemon juice, water, and spices in a bowl, and then add to the pan, stirring to combine. Cook another few minutes, until greens are completely wilted.

Rice Pilaf with Chickpeas and Spring Vegetables

My dear fun sister Lisa is graduating from college next week, and what would graduation be without a party to celebrate? My mother has relinquished cooking responsibilities for her graduation party to Lisa and I, our family's resident foodies. I love planning and cooking for parties so it wasn't long before we started brainstorming ideas, some of which will surely appear here after the fact. Among those ideas was a light pasta with spring vegetables, which transformed into a rice pilaf instead, because I have a hard time warming up to tomato-sauce-less pasta. I made a test run tonight, and the healthful combination of rice, chickpeas, and tender green vegetables was so wonderful that this one is being added to my rotation.

Spring garlic, also known as green garlic, has just come into season and is making the rounds on the blogosphere. I was eager to try it when I saw it at Union Square today, especially because I figured it would go perfectly in the rice pilaf I had planned for dinner. Spring garlic looks, slices, and cooks like the texture of a small leek, but with a sharper garlic taste and smell. I wasn't sure if I could cook the whole plant, since google resulted in conflicting advice. In his artful New York Times article, Daniel Patterson seems to be telling us only to use the white and light green parts. Meanwhile, Farmgirl Fare encourages us to go ahead and use the whole thing. So I did what seemed right, which was to use the whole stalk, minus the tough outer dark green leaves. Someone correct me if I'm wrong.


This dish is brilliant and warm and very green, like early spring. The creamy chickpeas, heightened by an hour of simmering and a bright tinge of lemon, contrasted perfectly with crunches of asparagus and mouthfuls of soft rice. It would have been more perfect if I were capable of cooking fluffy rice instead of the gummy wet rice that always comes out of my saucepans, but that's a challege for another day. I used a mixture of brown short grain rice and black himalayan rice, lending it a colorfully dark hue, but any rice that pleases you would suit this, as would bulgur or orzo I think.


Likewise, other spring vegetables such as peas or fava beans (which are not yet in season here in New York) would also do well in this dish. I couldn't much discern the green garlic, but I'm sure it helped things along. The parsley came from my herb garden, where it is flourishing over all the other herbs, straight on its way to becoming a veritable bush of parsley. And the cheese is optional, but cheese makes everything better, don't you think? I was out of parmesan, so I used a sharp Edam-like cheese, or a swiss cheese would work.


Rice Pilaf with Chickpeas and Spring Vegetables

3/4 cup dried chickpeas
1 cup rice
2 stalks spring garlic
1 bunch asparagus
couple handfuls baby bok choy
1 tsp lemon juice

The day before or that morning, place chickpeas in a pot covered with a couple inches of water to let soak.

After 6-24 hours, drain chickpeas, rinse, and return to pot. Refill with water, again covering chickpeas by a couple inches, and add a pinch of salt to water. Bring to a boil and then let simmer 45-90 minutes until chickpeas are tender. Drain and set aside.

Just after starting chickpeas, combine rice with 2 cups water and a pinch of salt. Bring to a boil and let simmer until rice is tender.

While chickpeas and rice simmer away, clean spring garlic as you would leeks and dice its stalks, discarding tough dark green leaves. Sautee spring garlic in olive oil over medium low heat.

Rinse asparagus and break off woody ends where the asparagus naturally breaks in your hand. (Reserve ends for future use, such as soup or dip.) Chop asparagus into one-inch pieces and sautee with garlic for a couple minutes.

Rinse and roughly chop baby bok choy and add to sautee pan. Continue to sautee another few minutes until wilted.

Combine chickpeas and rice in pan with vegetables. Stir in lemon juice and salt pepper and pepper to taste. Add grated cheese, if desired, and garnish with parsley.

Impromptu Greek Salad and Homemade Hamburgers

Ever since I eagerly devoured an awesome Greek salad at Westville in the West Village, I have been craving the combination of leafy greens and creamy feta. So Wednesday during lunch I followed my cravings. I wandered through the Union Square Greenmarket, beginning with a selection of a variety of lettuces, bright red radishes that were calling out to me, a red onion, and finally, feta cheese from Lynnhaven Farms. Back in midtown, I stole little plastic cups of balsamic vinegar from the deli across the street (shhhh). Then at my desk, I chopped and assembled the. best. impromptu lunch ever. The lettuces had that lively tenderness that signaled freshness.

So I assembled the same salad to accompany burgers for dinner that night, and then for lunch a couple of days later. By then, it was clear that two days in the refrigerator had taken their toll on the lettuce, and they now had the more wilted quality of supermarket mixed greens. See, the difference is noticeable! And although $6 per little tub, the feta cheese was worth it for its creamy, salty tang. It was reminiscent of the goat cheese my mom made when I was a child from the milk of the goats raised in our backyard barn. I didn't know how good I had it then.


As for the burgers, the meat was ground chuck from Hawthorne Valley Farm, picked up from the Greenmarket a week ago and frozen solid. While it took its time defrosting in a water bath, I improvised some hamburger buns that came together surprisingly quickly. The key was taking the necessary amount of flour and yeast out of the refrigerator that morning so they were nice and warm when it was time for baking after work. I used half whole wheat and half all purpose flour to give it a little more fluff than my usual dense all whole wheat bread.

It was a test run for my locavore potluck next month, and they came out good enough that I will be serving them again then. They may not be perfectly round and airy like store-bought buns, but they will be wholesome, made with simple ingredients, and hot from the oven. The recipe below is more for my reference so I can replicate it. And not so much a hard and fast recipe. Because there are things I'm not sure about. Like the ideal size of the pan, and whether the pan needs to have sides so that the buns rise upward. Advice is welcome.

Jesse prepared the burgers with worcestershire sauce, and some freshly chopped sage from the deck. He grilled them to medium-rare perfection served with those salad ingredients again - sliced red onions, lettuce, and feta cheese, albeit non-local ketchup of course. Yum. I'm glad it's grilling season again, that our grill is fixed after a two week hiatus, and that we have another package of local hamburger meat awaiting us in the freezer for a future barbecue.

Hamburger Buns
2 tsp active dry yeast
1/2 cup warm water
1 1/2 cup whole wheat flour
1 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 tsp salt
2/3 cup warm water
1 tbsp olive oil

Combine yeast and 1/2 cup warm water and let sit a few minutes until bubbly.
Meanwhile, combine flour and salt. Then add olive oil, yeast mixture, and half the remaining water. Combine in bowl with a rubber spatula. Add additional water as necessary until a slightly sticky dough forms.

Turn dough out onto a floured surface and need 10 minutes, adding flour as needed so it doesn't stick to everything. Return to bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and place in warm place for 40-60 minutes until doubled in size. (My warm place is inside my gas oven with the door propped open, and in that situation, the dough was over-ready and sighing back on itself when I poked holes into it at 45 minutes, so make sure you check on it periodically.)

Preheat oven to 400. Grease two small or one large baking pan. Turn dough out onto a floured surface and gently press down, pressing out air bubbles. Divide in half and set one half aside under the bowl. Divide each half into five balls (ten balls total) and place on pan. Cover with greased plastic wrap and let sit 25-35 minutes until proofed - the rolls will touch each other slightly. Bake for approximately 20 minutes, removing when rolls are golden brown and hollow when you tap the underside.

The Brooklyn Botanic Garden and the Perfect Spring Dinner

Now that it's spring, what better way to celebrate than to head to Brooklyn Botanic Garden to see the cherry trees in bloom. Admission is free on Saturdays if you can manage to get there before noon. So last weekend after our hearty breakfast of eggs and ramps, we biked down to the BBG. Well I thought it would be mostly downhill. I'm not sure why, except that going south always seems like it should correspond with going downhill. Little did I know that it would actually be uphill most of the way on Washington Ave to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. I guess that would be why they call it Prospect Heights. I was huffing and puffing, and the hill seemed to have no end, with just ten minutes to go before noon. But we managed to make it with minutes to spare. And it was worth it to see tons of pink cherry trees in full bloom.


I particularly liked the culinary beds, to indulge in fantasies of my own vegetable garden. I think swiss chard is such a pretty plant, with its bright colors and shiny leaves.


I also liked the garden paths winding around a pond with Japanese sculptures, lined with elegant weeping cherry trees, willows, and Japanese maples, complete with cute turtles sunbathing on rocks!



There weren't a lot of flowers out this early in the spring, but there were pretty tulips.


I'd like to go back later in the summer to see how the garden changes with the seasons, to enjoy more colorful flowers, and to see how the vegetables and herbs in the culinary beds have grown.


Later that night we enjoyed a great dinner that felt so wonderfully springy because I was lucky enough to find the first asparagus of the season at the Greenmarket the day before. I snapped the tough ends off the asparagus, rolled them in olive oil, salt, and pepper, and then roasted them for 10 minutes at 400. Meanwhile, I let some quinoa simmer away while Jesse pan-fried thin flounder filets in olive oil and seasoned them with salt pepper.


To top it off, I mixed up an herb mayonnaise using garlic, lemon juice, and some parsley from my urban garfunkel garden. I'm not a big fan of quinoa. Although Jesse loves it for its high protein content, and we often substitute it for pasta or rice for that reason, I think it has a dull soft taste that can sometimes ruin a dish. But with a dollop of lemony fresh mayonnaise, the quinoa was transformed into something I could enjoy. And that is something to cheer about.


We enjoyed dinner with cold mugs of Wiesen Edel-weisse beer. It cloudy wheaty bright taste, great for warm spring or summer days, was the perfect complement to our meal.

Ramps, Two Ways

Ramps are a sign of spring. And spring is truly here, with wild warm days that have helped my soul crawl out of the drudgery of winter. Spring has reminded me how great the world can be when it is actually sunny and warm and green everywhere. A kind of wild leek, ramps appear in early spring and don't stay in season for long. I was thrilled when I saw them at the Greenmarket last week and snatched them right up. They can be used in place of onions or garlic, and they are also traditionally eaten with bacon and scrambled eggs.

Since I've already used up my bacon allottment for the month, I chose to pep up my eggs and ramps with butter and a cheddary cheese. Together with a sourdough rye (also from the Greenmarket because I was too busy to bake bread last week), it was a perfect hearty breakfast. Ramps have a very distinct flavor, which is a little more earthy and pungent in smell and taste than onions or leeks. When I rinsed my ramps, I found they had a weird film at the bottom which I peeled off. Also, FYI, you can eat the white bottom part and the green leaves (unlike leeks, of which you can only eat the white part).


Scrambled Eggs and Ramps
1 tbsp butter
1/2 bunch ramps
5 eggs
1 tbsp milk
salt
pepper
2 tbsp cup grated cheddar cheese

Rinse the ramps and chop off the very bottom. Chop into small pieces and sautee over medium low heat in butter until wilted. Meanwhile, slice your bread and place in toaster. Then, whisk eggs, milk, salt, pepper, and cheese in a small bowl until combined. Once ramps are wilted, add egg mixture and stir continually until eggs are just cooked through. Butter your toast and plate with scrambled eggs and ramps.


For dinner tonight, I had planned on using up the ramps in a side dish with swiss chard and orzo, paired with little lamb chops. But when Jesse saw the lamb chops, he decried them as too small, even though the very same size was sufficient last time we had lamb chops. And so I rode my bike off to rehearsal, my first solo ride into Manhattan(go me!!), with plans to pick up a bunch of shrimp on the way home to replace the bitty chops.

Well, frozen shrimp isn't as easy to find as I hoped, and I had to scrounge around to four supermarkets before I found it (ended up at Trader Joe's of course). Once back in Brooklyn, Jesse agreed with me that we should meet at home for dinner. And so I rode home and cooked up dinner quick. Only to get a text saying he's still at the bar, already ate, and will be home "relatively soon" which is now an hour and a half later and nothing. So this dinner will become tomorrow's lunch, and in the meantime, perhaps you might enjoy this dish. From little bites, I can tell you that it was exactly what I was looking for - creamy orzo with lemony shrimp and greens and the pungent taste of ramps. I think feta cheese would kick the whole dish up a notch, but I was too cheap to buy it after so many recent grocery purchases.

Orzo with Shrimp, Ramps, and Swiss Chard

1 cup orzo
15 small shrimp (I used frozen, cooked shrimp with tails already cut off for ease)
1 tbsp butter
1/2 bunch ramps
1/2 bunch swiss chard
1 tsp lemon juice
2 tbsp freshly grated parmesan cheese
salt
pepper

Place orzo in a pot of salted water, bring to boil, and let simmer about 5 minutes, until orzo is tender. Drain in a colander and set aside.

Meanwhile, place shrimp in a bowl of water and let sit for about 10 minutes until defrosted.

Rinse and chop off bottoms of ramps and chop into small pieces. Sautee over medium low heat with butter until wilted.

Rinse and chop swiss chard leaves into small pieces, discarding stems at bottom. Add swiss chard, salt, and pepper to the pan and continue to sautee until wilted.

Add shrimp, orzo and lemon juice to the pan, and stir to combine. Cook another couple minutes until shrimp are heated through. Grate parmesan over top and serve.

My Urban Garfunkel Garden

In just spring, when the world is puddlewonderful.
- e.e. cummings


Yesterday was such a beautiful early spring day. The sun was shining, New York City was bustling with people and plants and life, and I was in an unusually good mood. I've been feeling perpetually grouchy lately, but the warm day filled me with promise of brightness and warmth and happiness before me. As my fried Jessica put it, the day lent a nostalgia for what we knew was to come as in summers past: lazy hot days, sipping cool beers in gardens, lounging around lush parks, walking in warm twilights and nights.


I started out the morning with visits to both McCarren Park and Union Square greenmarkets. The little trays of herbs and plants at the market called to me, and I was determined to make today the day I finally got my urban garden going. My mom is an ardent gardener, and I grew up surrounded by beautiful lawns and flowers, and ate fresh broccoli and peppers from her vegetable garden. But personally, I never had any motivation to get down with the dirt and manual labor of gardening.


Until I started to explore local eating, and realized that the most local way of all is from your own backyard. Or in my case, from a container garden on my miniscule deck. I feel lucky enough in Brooklyn to have any outdoor space at all past a fire escape - ours is a little wooden deck with a grill and a rusty chair, used mostly when cigarette smokers visit. As well, I can walk out onto a small roof space from my window, where the warmth of the black tar will be good for tomatoes and basil later this summer I think.


Without meaning to, I selected flats of parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme from the Blew Farm stand, just as in the Simon and Garfunkel song. Back at home, I was lucky enough to have potting soil left over from the previous tenants. And I had some indoor plants that were on their last legs, from the dry heat in our apartment and the ravages of our dog's teeth. So I pulled out the old plants and gently potted the new baby herbs and set them out on our little deck.


I also had a packet of mixed greens seeds that were a Christmas gift. I was too lazy to start the seeds inside a few weeks ago, so I planted them directly into a container bought at Home Depot. Now I cross my fingers and hope that the seeds will sprout, and that I'll be able to enjoy homemade salads before the oppressive New York summer heat kills them.

And so now, I wait, for nature to run its course. For fickle, blustery early spring to warm around the edges, for plants to sprout, for fresh crunchy vegetables to appear in the farmers market, for my herbs to grow tall. And in waiting, must not forget that I need not wait for warm weather to feel alive.

Dark Days Challenge Week 4: Saturday Mornings

What you see above is a typical brunch in my home on the weekends - eggs, toast, and homefries - and it's all local. I've been waiting to tell you all about my weekend morning feasts until I could say that. Last weekend I found flour at the farmers market, so I was able to make my weekly bread local AND homemade! I don't know how I missed the flour before...maybe I never looked closely enough, or maybe the farmer had just freshly milled some that week. It's from Oak Grove Mill on the Blew Farm in Franklin, NJ, only 50 miles away, and in addition to the whole wheat flour I purchased, he was selling a whole cornucopia of rye, cornmeal, pancake mixes, and buckwheat. I was happy to discover that this local flour worked just as well for breadmaking as King Arthur flour. So there you have it, homemade toast, potatoes and onions from the GreenMarket, and eggs and butter from Ronnybrook Farm. Somtimes I wash my breakfast down with a cup of sweet Ronnybrook milk too.

Afterward, we get dressed and trek a few blocks away to the Greenmarket in McCarren Park, where we refresh our supply of eggs, milk, butter, vegetables, and so on for the next week. (Sometimes I also supplement this with a trip to the Union Square market, if the selection in McCarren Park is particularly scarce). Saturday mornings have become my favorite part of the week ever since I started going to Greenmarkets this summer. For some reason, I really look forward to the chance to be outside in the morning air to pick out my food for the week from farmers who always manage to smile even when that morning air is frigid. And the chance to enjoy a leisurely, terrific, fresh meal, knowing that it's better than Enid's, which I used to think served the best brunch in Williamsburg. When the weather was warmer and the Greenmarket teemed with hipsters, strollers, dogs, and other ecletctic personalities, I was energized on Saturday mornings to wake up as early as possible and get to the market before all the good stuff ran out. Now that it's winter, I'm lazier and sleep in because there isn't much competition over eggs and vegetables, and also because I think I have a touch of seasonal affective disorder.

To think that last winter I didn't even think about where my food came from and felt awkward and intimidated by farmers markets. Actually, I think my whole environmental awareness emerged around this time last year, when I started reading No Impact Man and other green blogs, but my enthusiasm for local eating didn't really start until I was inspired by One Local Summer to make great meals out of ingredients from farmers markets. So next time you're planning a grocery store trip, consider spending a fun morning or afternoon at a farmers market instead. Something tells me you'll find it more enjoyable and rewarding.