Category: Vegetarian & Vegan

Cranberries!


Cranberries are wonderful, ya know? Just like turkey, I gotta ask why we only eat these once a year. When the season comes, (and it’s here right NOW, gang), grab a half dozen more bags than the one you need and freeze them.

photo image-5.jpg

OK, now that you have some, what are y’all gonna make? If it’s just cranberry sauce you crave, bypass that lame recipe on the back of the bag and try my version; folks at our house go nuts for this, and so will yours.

Now, how about a couple things a bit more outside the ‘same old’ box? Here’s a couple of great recipes that explore the savory side of cranberries.

 

Chutney is a spicy condiment that hails from a bunch of southeast Asian and Indian cuisines. Typical chutney blends the flavors of fruits and vegetables with vinegar, spices, and sugar. It’s a wonderful spin from the ordinary, so give it a try.

Cranberry Chutney

1 bag Cranberries
1 small sweet Onion
1 Apple
1 clove Garlic
1/2 Cup Red Wine
1/4 Cup Agave Nectar or Honey
2 Tablespoons Balsamic Vinegar
1 Tablespoon Oil
1/2 teaspoon ground Black Tellicherry Pepper
1/4 teaspoon Sea Salt

In a stainless steel saucepan over medium flame, heat the oil.

Dice the onion. Peel, core and dice the apple. Peel and mince the garlic.

Toss the onion, apple, and garlic into the oil and sauté until the onion starts to go translucent, about 5 minutes.

Add the wine, balsamic vinegar, agave, salt and pepper; incorporate thoroughly and heat through.

Raise heat to medium high and add the cranberries to the mix, stir to incorporate.

Allow to blend to cook on a low boil, stirring more or less constantly. Continue cooking until most of the cranberries have popped and the sauce is nice and thick, about 10 minutes.

Remove from heat and transfer to a glass bowl. Allow to cool thoroughly in the fridge. Chutney will keep in an air tight glass container for a week or so in the fridge, and for a month or two frozen.

 

Now here’s a favorite secret weapon that I’ll call Cranberry BBQ Sauce; trust me when I tell you that this absolutely rocks on game, beef, chicken, turkey, and pork, too. It’s also amazing on potatoes, or in stews or stroganoff.

Eben’s Cranberry BBQ Sauce

1 bag Cranberries
1 Cup sweet Onion
1 bottle Porter
1 large Navel Orange
1/2 Cup dry Red Wine
1/2 Cup Balsamic Vinegar
1/2 Cup Dark Brown Sugar
1/3 Cup Worcestershire Sauce
1/3 Cup Soy Sauce
2 cloves Garlic

Peel and dice onion, peel and mince garlic. Zest and juice the orange.

photo image-6.jpg

photo image-7.jpg
Use a nice, fresh local Porter, like this beauty from Deschutes Brewing.

Throw everybody into a large stainless steel sauce pan over medium high heat and blend well, dissolving sugar thoroughly.

As soon as the cranberries start to pop, reduce heat to achieve a nice, steady simmer. Allow to simmer for 1 hour, stirring occasionally.

Process sauce with an immersion blender, or carefully transfer to a blender, if that’s what you’ve got. Be very careful if you use a blender; process in batches and watch out for the hot sauce. Process until the sauce is uniform and smooth. If you don’t have an immersion blender, AKA. A motor boat, go buy yourself one for Christmas, they’re indispensable.

If you like your sauce a bit chunkier, as we do, you’re done; if you like it smoother, run the sauce through a steel sieve once.

Transfer to a glass bowl or jar and refrigerate for at least 4 hours prior to use, to allow the flavors to marry and the sauce to finish thickening.

photo image-8.jpg

Sauce will do fine in the fridge for a couple of weeks, if it lasts that long…

Latkes!


You say Latkes and I say… Well, latkes, Latkas, or Levitot, if you prefer the Hebrew. Any way you say it, a latke is a delicious little joy associated most often with Hanukkah, (Not the little dude from Taxi…) Fried foods are traditional during this celebration, commemorating the miracle of the oil that burned for 8 days when the Maccabees purified and rededicated the holy temple in Jerusalem. Not to be flippant, but any celebration featuring wonderful stuff like this is my kinda deal!

photo image-5.jpg

These little gems are a breeze to make, and fit right in to the days after Thanksgiving for us Americans, as there is often a plethora of potatoes available. The best variety for latkes as far as I’m concerned is also the best fritte spud, the Russet. You can use a less starchy version like a Yukon Gold if you prefer, but stay away from the waxy reds and whites. While you can certainly make latkes with leftover mashed potatoes, there will a difference in the way they cook and the mouth feel that just isn’t quite right; best save those for turkey shepherds pie instead.

Now, the traditional accompaniment to latkes is applesauce. And since this is a special occasion, whip up a batch of housemade and let that marry flavors and cool while you’re building the latkes.

Use whatever apple you like best for eating, but please, please; no delicious, OK?

4 Apples of your choice
1/2 to 3/4 Cup Water
1/4 Cup Agave Nectar or Honey
1/4 teaspoon ground Cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground Nutmeg
Dash of Sea Salt

Peel, core and rough chop apples.

In a saucepan over medium heat, combine all ingredients and mix well.

When the mixture starts to simmer, cover and reduce heat to medium low. Cook for 15 to 20 minutes, until apples are very soft.

Remove from heat and hand mash with a fork or potato masher.

Pour into a glass bowl, cover and refrigerate.

 

Onto the latkes! First a few points of order…

For the flour, unbleached all purpose is fine, but try whole wheat pastry as well, it’s very nice indeed.

For the oil, stick to Sunflower, Canola, or Corn; they won’t add any heavy flavor notes to the latkes. And speaking of oil, oil temperature is critical to good results when frying; oil maintained at 350° F will ensure nice light, crispy results that don’t taste and feel soggy. Use a candy thermometer to track oil temperature, and always add foods to be fried sparingly to allow the temperature to stay where it needs to be.

5 medium Russet Potatoes
2 medium Sweet Onions
3 medium Eggs
1/4 to 3/4 Cup Flour
1 teaspoon Sea Salt
1/2 teaspoon fresh ground Black Pepper
1/2 to 3/4 Cup Oil

Peel your spuds and toss them into a large mixing bowl filled with enough ice water to completely submerge them.

Skin and trim ends from onions. Toss them into the ice water with the spuds.

Add oil to a frying pan over medium high heat; you’ll want about 1/4″ of oil or so. Have your thermometer handy for gauging oil temp.

Drain your spuds and onions and pat dry with a clean paper towel.

Grate the potatoes and onions with the finer side of a hand grater, or use a food processor or blender if you prefer. The hand method gives the best results for my mind. You want a nice, consistent size and blend of spuds and onions.

Check your oil and adjust heat so you’re sitting right at 350° F.

Place a platter lined with paper towels in your oven and preheat to Warm.

Toss the spud and onion blend into a colander lined with paper towels and gently squash the mix to remove excess water.

Dry off that large mixing bowl and toss your spud/onion blend in.

Lightly beat the eggs by hand and add them to the spuds and onions, then add the salt and pepper.

Add flour 1/4 cup at a time until the mixture holds together on its own, like a chunky pancake batter.

Fill a large soup spoon with a heaping hunk ‘o batter. Slip that puppy into the hot oil and gently squash it down into a cake. Fry one side for approximately 3-5 minutes, until golden brown, then and fry the other side for another 2 to 3 minutes. Look for that nice golden brown on both sides.

Now slide those little golden beauties onto the paper towel covered platter in the oven and keep fryin’. Add a little more oil if needed and watch that oil temp.

Serve nice and hot with the applesauce and a little dish of sour cream, crèma or crème fraîche.

Enjoy!

Eben’s Cranberry Sauce


Here’s my perennial holiday sauce that everybody seems to love; they always ask for it, so I must be doing something right. Give it a shot!

1 12-ounce bag fresh Cranberries
3/4 Cup Water
1/2 Cup Agave Nectar (Sub Honey, Maple Syrup, or light brown Sugar)
1 large Navel Orange
1 Lemon
1 lime
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon Nutmeg
Shake of Sea Salt

Grate zest from all citrus; get all the nice bright orange, yellow and green, (Stop before you get to the bitter white part.)

photo DSC_0001.jpg

Juice lemon and lime. Peel orange thoroughly and rough chop the meat from that; set aside.

Bring water to a boil in a saucepan over medium high heat.

When water is boiling, add cranberries and return to a boil.

Reduce heat to medium and add citrus zest, orange, and juice.

Allow sauce to continue to boil, stirring occasionally until about 3/4 of the cranberries have popped.

photo DSC_0005.jpg

Add cinnamon, nut get and salt, stir in thoroughly.

Remove from heat and transfer to a glass or ceramic bowl. Allow to cool completely at room temperature.

photo DSC_0006.jpg

Cover and refrigerate until serving time. Will last in the fridge for about 5 days or so, if it makes it that long…

Enjoy!

Frijoles Mexicanos


Del sent a comment on the prior post, to whit;
“Maybe you’ll know the answer here but I’m wondering about the use of black beans in a dish referred to as Tex-mex. No bean of that sort has ever crossed the door of any cook on the Tejano side of my family. I’m wondering if it’s a difference of where in Mexico (ones) family originated or if pinto beans were all they found when they got to Texas so that’s what became traditional.
One side of the Mexican heritage in my family came from San Luis Potosi in 1917 and the other side varies from those who came to Texas direct from the Canary Islands in the 1500s to those with origins in all parts of northern Mexico.
No black beans anywhere there or in the family owned small restaurants that we favor. We do see them some in the upscale places (when I get forced into going to them) and in the ones that feature seafood from the central and south gulf coast.
Thoughts?”

(Slightly edited for content, because I can)

It’s an interesting question, indeed. And what a sad, sad thing, to be without frijoles negros in ones life…

First off, I’ll say without hesitation that we’ve had black beans in a bunch of Tex Mex joints in Texas, in the same neck of the woods as Del; what does that say, other than that we apparently don’t go to the same places? Not much.

Next, let’s look at the regions where Del’s people came from.

In the dominant cuisine of the central Mexican El Bajio region where San Luis Potosi is located, the pinto is and was more common than black beans, by far.

And those Canary Island roots are another great melting pot cuisine. Influences of the native Guanche people have blended with the ruling Spanish, as well as the cuisines of African and Latin American slaves and workers. There are beans and bean dishes there, but it’s as likely to be Ropa Vieja made with garbanzos as it is any other dish or variety. So, no big black bean influence there, either, (Albeit there are ‘native’ varieties in Spain and Portugal).

That said, my rather extensive studies of Mexican cuisine indicate that, in fact, black beans are quite common in Mexico, but more so by far in the south than the north and on the east coast more than the west. If you read Mexican regional cookbooks by genuine experts, you’ll find both black and reds in profusion. That said, the regional variations in Mexican cookery are easily as complex as Italian, Spanish, or French cuisines, and anyone who says otherwise is just plain wrong.

Black beans were indeed brought north and integrated into Tex Mex cooking from the get go to some degree, (They’re also common in New Mexican, Caribbean, and Cuban cooking). For my mind, the predominance of the pinto or chili bean en El Norte is likely more driven by gringo taste than by Tex Mex cook’s preferences; the black bean is a relative new comer as a commonly legume en Los Estados Unidos; the reds have been around far longer.

Regardless, cuisines including Tex Mex are rarely static; they evolve and that is a good thing. To some degree, I question the term “authentic” quite often; I mean, technically, ‘Confit’ means meat cooked in oil, and only meat. As such, when Daniel Boulud features a ‘tomato confit’ as part of a dish, is that not authentic?

So, where do Black Turtle beans, as they’re formally known, (as well as Black Magic, Blackhawk, Domino, Nighthawk, Valentine, and Zorro), come from? After all, that’s the real crux of the debate, isn’t it? According to El Universidad Autónoma Agraria Antonio Narroas in Saltillo, Mexico, and as fate would have it, Phaseolus vulgaris were first cultivated around 7,000 years ago in… Central America and Mexico.

The bottom line to me is this; if you make it and you like it, you can call it whatever you like, and use any color bean that floats your boat.

Adios.

Persillade


Here’s another common scenario I’ll bet you’ll cop to. There you are in the produce section, and you stop for cilantro. Right next to that is the parsley. You glance at that and then head for the onions…

I mean, what does anybody actually use parsley for, right? Answer: Persillade. Think of it as a variation on pesto, which in fact, it is. There really isn’t “one right way” to make this stuff, so experiment and make yourself and your crew happy.

Build a batch of this and try it on roast chicken, or potatoes, steak, fish, an omelette, pasta; get the idea? Cool, let’s build it.

Handful of fresh Parsley, about a half cup loose packed
2-4 Tablespoons Extra Virgin Olive Oil
2 cloves Garlic
1 small bulb Shallot
Juice of 1/2 to 1 Lemon
Pinch of Sea Salt

Rough chop the parsley, garlic and shallot. Throw them into your food processor or blender.

Pulse sparingly a few times until you’ve got a nice, even mix.

Now turn the machine on and add a steady, thin stream of olive oil while the processor runs until you have a consistency you like.

Transfer the sauce into a glass bowl, then add fresh lemon juice and salt to taste.

Allow the flavor to marry for at least 1/2 hour prior to serving.

photo image-2.jpg

You can store Persillade in the fridge for a day or two, or freeze it if you want some long-term. This is an excellent sauce to do up in ice cube trays and freeze; just pop a cube out when you want a bit for something fun.

Enjoy!

One Hour Minestrone


OK, so a good few of y’all have asked for the zero-to-minestrone in an hour recipe, so here goes.

There is much leeway in this wonderful soup. You can make it with meat or vegetarian. You can add whatever veggies are in house with confidence. In other words, there are few rules. That said, what I’ll propose as the single non-negotiable point is this: the base stock should be veggie and include white beans, (AKA Great Northerns). As I’ve said numerous times here, try it this way first and then go forth as you see fit thereafter…

So, let’s say that like me the other night, you got a hankering for soup, it’s 5 pm, you have no stock on hand and nothing prepped. Ready?

Open and lightly rinse a can of white beans. Pour them into a sauce pan and add,
2 Cups hot water
1 small Shallot, minced
1 Bay Leaf
Sprig of Parsley, minced
1/2 teaspoon Italian Oregano
Shake Sea Salt
Twist of ground Pepper

Get that up to a simmer and reduce heat so it barely perks along.

Preheat oven to 400 F.

Choose 1 medium sweet onion, then choose carrot and celery for size so that you get roughly 50% onion and 25% each celery and carrot, then rough chop. Toss those on a sheet pan, drizzle with olive oil and shove them in the oven for 15 minutes.

Set a stock pot over high heat with 10 cups of hot water and bring to a boil.

When the veggie timer goes off, pull them out of the oven and throw them into the boiling water. Allow them to boil freely for 15 minutes, then strain or scoop all the veggies out and toss ’em in your compost. Toss the bean pan contents into the stock pot and there’s your speed stock.

Dice 2 or 3 potatoes and a carrot, then throw them in the microwave for a minute or two until just fork tender; add them to the pot. If there are any other root veggies you have or like, do the same with those.

In a sauté pan over medium high heat, toss 1/2 diced sweet onion and a stalk or two of celery until they start to soften and sweat; throw those into the pot. If you have the leaves and tiny shoots on your celery,so much the better, just use that.

Begin scavenging the fridge and shelves. I found fresh frozen corn, peas and green beans as well as canned tomatoes we’d preserved earlier in the year and threw a handful of each into the mix. If you’ve got leftover pasta or rice in the fridge, in it goes; this is how and why minestrone has been made for many moons, capiche?

Now you can make this a broth soup or you can make it stewier if you like. If thickening appeals to you, the simplest way is to just purée some of the soup and add it back; that’ll give you slight thickening and will honor the flavor you’ve chosen exactly, of course. If you want thicker still, use a slice or two of day old bread, or a scoop of some of that rice or pasta you found in the fridge, or even leftover mashed potatoes. Take that chosen thickener, toss it in your blender or processor, add two or three ladles of soup and let ‘er rip, then return that to your stock pot and viola.

Adjust seasoning with salt and pepper to taste, then allow your minestrone to simmer for 15 minutes or so. Take that time to use your preheated oven and make some quick corn bread, or rub slices of baguette with a split clove of garlic and a brush of butter.

Serve hot and bask in your ingenuity.

Enjoy!