Not Just for Vichyssoise: Roasted Leeks

Roasted leeks - I'm making yummy noises in my mind just looking at this

 
Leeks have always been one of those things I have trouble knowing what to do with. I've made potato and leek soup dozens of times, and I love leek and mushroom risotto... and that's about it. With their tendency to pick up grit, their fibrous outer layers - leeks aren't the easiest vegetables to work with, at least for me.

Still, difficult things can offer great rewards. The delicate, sweet flavor of leeks is pretty special, and can get lost in rich or complex dishes. I don't want to oversell, but I think this recipe does them justice. Honestly, I was just fooling around and didn't expect much, but after trying them my first thought was "Holy shit, these are delicious! I'm never wasting leeks again." Sorry; I'm more profane in my mind. But aren't we all?

Seasonally, leeks are usually available from fall though late spring, though this will vary based on you're location (which is why I'm posting it in June - it's still vaguely wintery here in Scotland). Small, firm ones have the sweetest flavor, but too small and they'll be hard to manage and to eat in this form.

I'd happily serve these as an unexpected but simple appetizer, perhaps with a light, subtle dipping sauce, or just eat them all myself. Soon, I'm going to try cutting them into chip/crisp size and separating them rather than leaving them halved like this, but I also really like the combination of crispy/caramelized and velvety/sweet that you get when you leave them together in this form.

Delicious. I hope you think so.

Roasted Leeks

About 1-2 leeks per person.

Fresh, firm leeks
Olive oil
Coarsely-ground black pepper  
Sea salt

Oil an appropriately-size pan, keeping in mind that one with a lip should limit crisping more than a flat pan. Preheat oven to 375F or about 190C. I think. I don't trust my oven here, so regarding temperature and time, keep an eye on things the first time you make these.

Trim the root ends and the green parts of the leeks from where the outer layer begins to get more fibrous. Carefully rinse the sections of the leeks, letting the water run on the ends, especially if there is any looseness between the layers. If the sections are longer than 3 or 4 inches, you may want halve them lengthwise for ease of eating. Cut each section in half to expose the inside of the leek and place them in the pan with the cut side up.

Either drizzle, brush, or apply olive oil generously to the leeks, letting it seep down between the layers as much as possible. I use my fingers to rub the oil up and down them a little bit, without breaking them apart. Sprinkle with black pepper and sea salt to taste, and pop them in the oven for 10-15 minutes. As I mentioned above, my tiny dorm oven's consistency and accuracy is questionable, so keep an eye on things to gauge the time for yourself. They should be crispy on the outside and tender on the inside.

Enjoy!

Those crispy outer layers are like candy

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Lotus, Part I: Baked Lotus Root in a Honey Ginger Glaze

Baked Lotus Root in a Honey-Ginger Glaze

I love potatoes. It could be that I come from Irish and German stock, both potato-hungry nations, or that I ate lots of delicious variations as a child, or that my plump pre-adolescent self identified somehow with their starchy roundness. Whatever it was, I have always been perfectly happy with a bowl of mashed potatoes as a meal.

Having said that, I'd like to make a case for cooking with a much wider variety of starchy vegetables, for enjoyment, excitement and a more nutritionally diverse diet. Not everyone has access to international produce; it's one thing to be able to find five-spice powder, but an entirely different thing to have to hunt down fresh birds-eye chilies or ripe durian (which, amazingly, I have seen at my local Asian grocery, Sunrise Supermarket, about which you will undoubtedly hear more). However, if you are lucky enough to have someone trying to sell you fresh lotus root, you should definitely take advantage of that. I don't want to ignore the major environmental and economical impact of importing international foods, but as I lean very heavily on local produce, I'm going to save that debate for another day.

Raw lotus root - unpeeled, peeled, and sliced

In fact, though it is much more well-known in Asian cuisine, lotus is also indigenous to the American South (though the lotus root I got at Sunrise definitely wasn't locally produced). When collected by locals in the freshwater bayous of Louisiana, lotus seeds are called graines à volers (pronounced grawn-uh-vo-LAY) in Cajun French or more colloquially, "Cajun peanuts," and serve as a convenient summer snack for bayou fisherman and guides, who can harvest the raised pods as they pass by in their boats. Before the Cajuns and Creoles, though, lotus seeds were a dietary staple of the Native Americans of south Louisiana, though unlike their Cajun brethren, they ate the root (technically a rhizome) as well,  most often baked.


When selecting lotus root, look for heavy pieces that are a light warm tan color with no soft spots and little discoloration. The pretty holes you see when you cut a cross-section run all the way through the length of the root and dry out easily, so look for ends that aren't too withered as an indication that most of the root will be usable.

In many traditional Asian cuisines lotus root and seeds are used medicinally, and are considered cooling, balancing influences. There may actually be something to that, as the lotus plant "thermoregulates" - heats or cools the air inside its flowers to make a more comfortable environment for pollinating insects.

Lotus root can be used in stir-fry or soups, pan-roasted, pickled, deep fried as chips, and even candied, and I plan to explore all of those options, but I'm going to start with something simple, easy, and impressive: baked lotus root in a honey-ginger glaze.

If you don't do honey (or don't have access to local honey), agave nectar will work just fine. I know a lot of people will disagree with me about this, but I don't think that every vegan should abstain from honey; if you feel strongly that using the bees for food production is inherently wrong, then more power to you, but I am personally very concerned about honeybee populations and live in an area with access to local, ethically produced honey on every corner, so I buy from small beekeepers who keep the bees healthy and out pollinating. Agave is a great substitute, but is a little thinner than honey, so always keep that in mind.

Grated fresh ginger

Baked Lotus Root in a Honey-Ginger Glaze
Serves 3-4 as a side dish

2 medium lotus roots
1/3 c. honey or 1/2 c. agave nectar
1 rounded Tbsp. freshly grated ginger


Preheat the oven to 375 and grease a baking sheet. Start by finely grating the ginger - if you keep your fresh ginger in the freezer like I do, it's just fine to grate it while it's frozen. It will seem a little soggy when you gather it up to put in the recipe, but as far as I can tell, that's not an issue.

Peel and slice the lotus root. If there's going to be a delay before you can dress the slices, or if you're making a large batch, keep the slices in a bowl of cold water with some vinegar added to keep the lotus from discoloring.

Remove the slices from the water and dry them briefly to remove excess moisture. In a large bowl, toss the slices with the honey and the grated ginger, making sure to coat them as fully as possible. When you're done, spread them in a single layer on the baking sheet and pour any glaze that remains in your bowl over the pieces.

Bake at 375 for 8-10 minutes, turn them over, and bake another 6-8 minutes. They cool somewhat quickly, so feel free to pull one out and sample for texture (but be careful, because I refuse to assume any liability for burned tongues). When they're done, take them out of the pan quickly, because the honey glaze will glue the slices down if you let them cool in the pan. I also suggest putting some water in the pan to let it soak while it's still warm, for the same reason.

Enjoy!




Lotus Root.

Spicy Egyptian Lentil Soup Good Enough to Serve to 50 People at a Rehearsal Dinner

About a month ago, I was browsing Foodgawker and came across a delicious-looking lentil soup. I have a real love of lentils, and am always looking for new treatments (however, as much as I love them, I will never, never make a 70s-style lentil loaf. Have some respect.), so I was very drawn to this Spicy Egyptian Lentil Soup posted by afarmgirlsdabbles. In the blog post including this recipe, she describes a trip to Egypt to visit her sister, during which she reluctantly tried this soup, a local favorite, and was blown away. She was so impressed that, upon returning stateside, she recreated a soup with the rich, complex spice that Middle Eastern cuisines are so good at, accented by the bright flavor of lemon.
 

The original lentil soup as served in Cairo, with a glass of fresh strawberry juice and shawarma. Photo courtesy of afarmgirlsdabbles.

That very night, I made her soup, and had a similarly enthusiastic reaction. So, when I was called upon to help cook for the rehearsal dinner for the wedding of one of my closest friends, and was told that we were going to do a "Soup Bar" of 5 or 6 different soups to serve about 50 people, I jumped at the chance to include this. We served the soups in mismatched, over-sized coffee mugs with a choice of 4 or 5 different breads and a salad. The soup bar worked beautifully and, though my soup was a little more spicy than I had intended, it went over very well, particularly with the lentil-loving bride.

With the author's permission, here is that spectacular soup. I would add a bit more lemon than she suggests, but as she points out in her post, this soup is all about a "beautifully balanced, earthy, spicy heat" and preserving that balance is key. How much spice and lemon is dependent on the freshness of your spices, how long you simmer, how long you've soaked your lentils, etc., so this is a great opportunity to perfect your taste-and-adjust-spices skills. Just keep in mind that, as always, cumin needs to go at the end, because it will get very bitter if it is cooked for too long. Also, I highly suggest using red lentils. I'm sure the soup would still be delicious with green lentils, but the color and more delicate texture of the red lentils is ideal for this soup.


Also, please visit the original post at her blog to look at her gorgeous pictures of Cairo. I'm such a food+travel voyeur, and before too long, I'll be providing you some culinary travel experiences of my own. If all goes to plan and I get my student visa, I'll be in Scotland beginning in September for a Master's program at the University of Edinburgh, and who knows what exciting interpretations of local cuisine that will yield... seitan haggis? Kidding.

Without further ado,  

Spicy Egyptian Lentil Soup 

Serves 6-8

2 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
1 onion, diced into 1/4" pieces
4 garlic cloves, minced
1 large celery rib, diced into 1/4" pieces
1 large carrot, diced into 1/4" pieces
1 large baking potato, peeled and diced into 1/2" pieces
1-1/4 c. lentils (red or green)
2 qts. vegetable broth
2 tsp. ground cumin
1/2 tsp. cayenne pepper
1/4 tsp. turmeric
2 Tbsp. freshly squeezed lemon juice, plus additional lemon slices to serve alongside finished soup
salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

Over medium-high heat, in a large saucepan or small stockpot, heat the oil.  Add the onion and garlic and cook until fragrant, about 2 or 3 minutes.  Add the celery and carrot and cook for another 5 minutes.  Add the potato, lentils, and vegetable broth.  Bring to a boil, then cover and simmer until all the vegetables are very tender.  This should take 40 to 50 minutes.

Puree the soup in batches, using a blender, and return it back to the pot.  Or blend carefully right in the pot with an immersion blender.  Add the cumin, cayenne pepper, turmeric, and lemon juice.  Season with salt and pepper.  I'm not known for adding much salt to my food, but I found myself adding more than I thought I would to boost the flavors.  Just add a bit at a time, tasting after each addition.

Serve the soup hot with slices of fresh lemon on the side.  Some warm fresh pocket bread would also be good with this meal.

Again, thanks so much to afarmgirldabbles for the use of her recipe and picture! Visit her site for more great recipes. 


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Latkefest 2010 - Vegan Latkes Three Ways

I saw a latke recipe a couple of days ago (from The Girlie Girl Army; you can find the original here), and thought, well, I've got some time tonight...

Using that basic recipe as a base, I came up with some non-traditional latkes that use this classic Hanukkah treat as an inspiration, but are made to take more of a starring role in a meal. Here's what I came up with:  


Apple-Parsnip Latkes with Ginger Spread
Bubble-and-Squeak Latkes with Beer Mustard
Horseradish Jicama Latkes with Applesauce

Instructions are at the very bottom, with ingredient lists under each title. I hope you all enjoy these... they are the first original recipes I've included, so I'll appreciate your feedback. I tend to cook by sight and feel (and smell!), so I wrote the recipes after making the latkes, but I'm pretty confident in the proportions. Still, if things start to look funny to you, go with your gut and adjust amounts as you think is best. Enjoy!

Apple-Parsnip Latkes with Ginger Spread

3 potatoes, grated and drained
1 apple, grated and drained
1 medium to large parsnip, grated and drained
1/4 c. grated onion, drained
1/8 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 c. all-purpose flour
1 tsp. baking powder
2 tsp. salt


Serve with a ginger spread or jam - the one by The Ginger People is my favorite.

Bubble-and-Squeak Latkes with Beer Mustard

3 potatoes, grated and drained
1/4 of one small cabbage, chopped finely
1 small white onion, grated and drained
1/8 tsp. nutmeg
1/4 tsp. white pepper
1/2 c. all-purpose flour
1 tsp. baking powder
2 tsp. salt

Serve with a pub-style beer mustard, though avoid using too much, as it will overpower the latkes. As a bit of background, Bubble and Squeak is a British dish with a base of potatoes and cabbage, traditionally prepared with leftover vegetables from a roast. Click on the link above for the Wikipedia entry...


Horseradish-Jicama Latkes with Applesauce

3 potatoes, grated and drained
1 medium jicama bulb, peeled, grated and drained
4 tsp. freshly grated horseradish
2 tsp. ground coriander
1/2 c. all-purpose flour
1 tsp. baking powder
2 tsp. salt

Serve with an unsweetened applesauce.


For each of these recipes, get as much water out as possible from the grated ingredients. Heat a thin layer of canola oil to between medium and medium-high in a cast-iron pan (I tried first in a stainless pan, and the latkes adhered instantly, leaving me literally stabbing them with a spatula and chanting "Die! Die! Die!").

Form your latke mix into little patties, and place several quickly into you pan. You'll need to have plenty of room to scoot them around in the pan - I did about 5 at a time. As soon as you've got them all in the pan, push them around with the spatula to make sure they don't stick. Doing this as soon as possible seems to be key to keeping them from sticking, though continue to move them periodically as they fry. Keep an eye on them and flip them when they are browned, usually after several minutes. Replenish the oil as needed, but make sure that it gets back up to the right temperature before you put in the next batch. When they're done, drain them on paper towels. Keep them in a warm oven (about 275) if you need to as you finish the batch. Serve hot.

I was talking to a friend at work today about these, and he said, "I wonder how little Jewish grandmothers would feel about vegan latkes?" I hope they'd like the idea, since leftovers could be served with either a meat or dairy kosher meal... At any rate, they're delicious, and who complains about good food?

For other latke recipes and info, visit the Foodista page on latkes, linked below...


Latkes

Canadian Vegan Thanksgiving

My best friend comes from a family who thinks her eating habits (she's vegetarian and studying nutrition) are bizarre and, frankly, not to be trusted. She has to deal with comments like, "So you won't eat chicken broth? You're really going to be that strict?" all the time, and it makes me sad. She's been such a major influence on my own decisions about food that I hate to see her go through that, and it makes me really grateful to have a family that is so understanding (and who love her like she's their own, too). Her husband is vegetarian also, and his family struggles with it as well, so the three of us invented Canadian Vegetarian Thanksgiving last year, and this year we went vegan.

Canadian Thanksgiving takes place on the second Monday in October, making it the first holiday on my fall calendar. Each year, we've gotten together to plan our menu in advance, then prepared the meal in their tiny kitchen with only minimal bumping in to each other. This year was a great success, and we even timed it well enough to have all the food out at one time.

Canadian Vegan Thanksgiving Menu

Cornbread dressing
Mushroom gravy
Sauteed yellow squash and zucchini
Spicy butternut squash soup

Cranberry sauce
Tempeh-pate-stuffed mushrooms
"Grit-Style Tofu" from The Grit Restaurant Cookbook

Grit-Style Tofu
This is a great way to quickly prepare savory, filling tofu, so here's a non-copyright-violating version - heat a little bit of oil in a large pan (not huge, but larger than you need for the amount of tofu you're using). Saute chunks of extra-firm tofu until golden brown, turning often. Sprinkle lightly with soy sauce (I tried tamari once, but it is very strong and I wouldn't suggest it for this recipe), then saute some more. Remove from pan, drain excess liquid, wipe out pan, and start process again. Make sure the oil is very hot before you add the tofu, then saute a second time until well browned, turning often. Sprinkle with a little more soy sauce, to taste, then begin to sprinkle nutritional yeast, turning the tofu, until it's as coated as you want it. Serve hot.

Incidentally, the tofu goes really well with gravy - though, in all fairness, there's very little that doesn't. There are hundreds of great vegan gravy recipes out there, from soy-sauce-based brown gravies to flour-based white gravies. Both are good, but I'm more of a white gravy person. I like to start by toasting flour in a dry pan and working my way by taste from there. Mushroom broth is a great addition, though it's hard to make enough of it from your standard package of dried wild mushrooms. I'm sure canned veggie broth would work well, but I love the mushroom flavor. Black pepper works well with mushrooms, and a standard Thanksgiving herb combo like rosemary-sage-thyme is classic. Nutritional yeast will add richness, as will plain soy milk (even 'original' flavored ones taste too much like vanilla for me, so keep an eye out for plain).

The stuffed mushrooms were a major success, and you can find the recipe for them in my Aug. 29th blog. I made them again for real Thanksgiving, as well as citrus collard greens with golden raisins and roasted Sweet Potatoes Anna, a variation on Pommes Anna, in the French tradition - though, without the traditional copper pan and fancy heavy lid to flip the potatoes, mine never made it into the solid cake form that is the goal. Click on the link above for a recipe that doesn't require the crazy pan - it's not vegan but, you know, just substitute Earth Balance or some other vegan margarine. The ingredients are incredibly simple, but the magic is in the technique.

One thing I really love about French cuisine is how much effort they'll put into a single dish - the best type of potato with the correct amount of firmness, the appropriate type of butter - you have to respect a culture so passionate about food that someone invented a kind of pan solely for Pommes Anna - one that can be flipped repeatedly in the oven to help the potato slices form a solid cake. While I have been known to tirade against appliances that can only be used for one thing (Electric jar opener? Really?), when it comes to the Pommes Anna pan, I'm amazed at the pure devotion of it. A more accessible example is the crepe pan, which has shallow sides which make it easier to flip and remove a crepe without tearing it. One excellent excuse for buying a crepe pan is the versatility of crepes themselves - but more on that later.

Next up, Mexican Chocolate Cupcakes...my first foray into desserts. Wish me luck.

What do you feed someone you need to impress?

Recently, my brother brought his girlfriend home for a visit. We'd met her before, but I hadn't really had a chance to get to know her at all. I wanted to make her feel welcome, so I decided to prepare a late lunch for all of us on Sunday out of a new cookbook I'd just gotten, The Native Foods Restaurant Cookbook by Tanya Petrovna. I selected a tempeh pâté, a caesar salad, and "Le Benedict Florentine" sandwiches. I never made it to the salad, because I got so wrapped up making the sandwiches, which were very labor-intensive for the output. In between marinating and baking tofu, preparing the Hollandaise, steaming asparagus, and frying the fake canadian bacon, I prepared the pâté, which turned out to be the real star of the meal.

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Tempeh Pâté from The Native Foods Restaurant Cookbook by Tanya Petrovna (paraphrased)

1 8-oz block of tempeh, cut into about 8 pieces

Combine:   1/3 c. soy sauce or liquid aminos
                  2/3 c. water
                  1/2 tsp. grated fresh ginger (you can keep a ginger root in your freezer for use any time)
                  1 clove garlic, chopped

Saute tempeh pieces in a little bit of oil until brown, turning until browned on all sides. When they are finished cooking, pour soy sauce mixture over them and let it simmer for a couple of minutes, turning so that the tempeh pieces absorb the mixture evenly. Pull them out, drain if needed, then chop as finely as possible. Then, combine with:
                        1/4 c. vegenaisse
                        1/2 c. chopped green onions
                        1/2 c. chopped dill (dried is fine, too - probably about 1-2 tsp?)
                        1/4 tsp. sea salt
Mix with a spatula; then, if you want a smoother texture, blend with a stick mixer or food processor.
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One delightful thing to do with this pâté is to make little puff pastries, or "French Love Bites" as they are charmingly named in The Native Foods Restaurant Cookbook. I made those for brunch this morning along with the plain pâte, and both were completely devoured. Even the most conservative eater in the group grudgingly came back for seconds and thirds.

And yes, my brother's girlfriend loved it, too.

I have a little bit of history with stuffed mushrooms. When I was in high school, I worked for a caterer, and when there were left-over crab-stuffed mushrooms, I would pop those babies like candy. Later, on a first date, I ordered stuffed mushrooms that were bathed in some heavenly sauce, and I was so enraptured that my date suggested I "get a room." Suffice it to say, I have high standards when it comes to this particular dish. I used the leftovers of my last batch to make a sample batch of stuffed mushrooms. I had some baby portobello caps laying around, and I wiped them (I'm sure you all know this, but don't wash mushrooms...ever....which is why it's good to buy organic ones. Just wipe them down with a towel) and removed the stems, then chopped and sauteed the stems with garlic and olive oil, then added them to the pâté with some homemade bread crumbs to bind, then stuffed the mushrooms and baked them in an oiled pan for 15ish minutes at 375ish... and they were miraculous. I ate THEM ALL. Well, I gave one to my roommate, but I ate the rest. Don't judge.I'm sure there are lots of delicious ways you could tweak this recipe to stuff mushrooms, puff pastry, etc. No doubt substituting sage and rosemary would be delicious with a higher concentration of bread crumbs (fresher bread, rougher cut); I would even like to try something with some snap, like a bit of olive or caper. The richness of the pate should balance even relatively strong flavors with moderate to high acidity, but I'll report back when I've tried that.

Moving on, the "Le Benedict Florentine" sandwiches worked out well. Some credit for that belongs to my dad, who is quite a good baker, and I used thick, toasted pieces of his rich white bread to anchor this mix of textures. One problem I had was that the marinade for the tofu was too strong, or I marinated for too long, or just cooked it for too long (at such low temperatures, the tofu never changes consistency, but just absorbs more marinade and releases more water, distilling the flavor). The sandwich is composed of lemon-garlic marinated tofu, Hollandaise, steamed spinach or asparagus (asparagus! asparagus! It's so much more dramatic looking and holds up so well), fake canadian bacon, tomato, and some nice sturdy bread. Of all these, the only one worth reporting to you is the Hollandaise.

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Hollandaise Sauce from The Native Foods Restaurant Cookbook (paraphrased)

1 Tbsp. olive oil
1 shallot, finely chopped
1 c. soymilk (plain, unsweetened)
1 1/2 Tbsp. fresh lemon juice
1 1/2 tsp. dried tarragon
1/2 tsp. sea salt
1/8 tsp. turmeric
pinch white pepper
pinch cayenne pepper
cornstarch, arrowroot, or kuzu for thickening (more on this later...)

Heat oil in a saucepan and saute shallots until translucent and lightly browned. Put shallots in a blender with 1/2 c. of the soymilk and blend well. Pour back into the pan and whisk in other ingredients, except for your chosen thickening agent. Mix 1 Tbsp. cornstarch or arrowroot with 1/4 c. water, then add little by little, stirring until thickened.

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The only problem that I had with this recipe was that I tried to use the same amount of arrowroot as the recipe required of kuzu, which was too much, giving my Hollandaise a slightly jelly-like consistency. Take it easy with the thickener, add gradually, stirring consistently. Then drizzle over something delicious and serve hot. I'll be on the hunt for more uses for this classic tangy-creamy sauce, and I'd appreciate your thoughts...

Tempeh Pate