Vegetables blog

I thought I didn’t like yellow summer squash until I tried grilling it the way they describe in Perfect Vegetables.

It couldn’t be easier: slice the squashes the long way so that the slices are about 1/2″ thick. Brush each one with EVOO and season with salt and freshly ground black pepper. Heat up your grill pan on medium-high heat (or, if you’re grilling, get the grill ready), then lay out the slices and grill for a total of 8 minutes, turning once during cooking. Gorgeous grill marks, delicious flavor (EVOO will do that), and none of the weird bitterness which is why I shun yellow squash in the first place.

This was an improvisation: I give it about a B or B minus.
I sliced a pound of firm or extra-firm tofu into 1/4″ slices or so (let’s say 10 slices to the brick). I set these onto paper towels to drain.

Then I mixed up a sort of peanut satay sauce: 1/2 cup or so of smooth peanut butter, a good dose of chili garlic sauce, some Sate Seasoning from Penzey’s, a few splashes of soy sauce, and a little water and milk to thin it. Real satay sauce doesn’t use packaged seasoning; it does use coconut milk, which I don’t have.
I heated up my grill pan, sprinkled more Sate Seasoning on the tofu slices and placed them in the hot pan. Those cooked on medium-high heat for a few minutes, then I turned them over and added more Sate Seasoning. Tofu is funny with grill marks, but the grilling just heats them up: it doesn’t seem to change the texture or anything.
I removed the tofu slices to a serving plate and spooned some satay sauce on each, bringing the rest of the sauce to the table for added dipping goodness.
With a little foresight, this could be much improved: I could either marinate the tofu slices in something tasty or I could treat them to a breadcrumb coating of some sort.

I’ve mentioned something like this a number of times. I base it on Ming Tsai’s Napa Slaw recipe from the Blue Ginger cookbook. His includes fresh basil and scallions, which I never seem to have on hand.

• 1 small head of cabbage
• 3 or 4 carrots
• rice vinegar
• Thai fish sauce (nam pla)
• sugar
• red pepper flakes
• basil

It’s pretty simple. Shred the cabbage and the carrots with your food processor’s shredding disc or by hand, then put them in a big salad bowl or mixing bowl. Then mix up a dressing with about 1/4 cup of rice vinegar, 1/4 cup of fish sauce, a teaspoon or so of sugar, a half-teaspoon of red pepper flakes, and a few shakes of basil. Fresh basil is better if you have it. Pour the dressing over the shredded veggies, toss, and serve. Good stuff.

I wish I’d known earlier just how easy it is to make fresh pesto! Yum! This is from The Good Food Book by Jane Brody. Remember: your pesto is only as fresh as the ingredients you use.

Pesto in the Food Processor

• 3 cloves garlic
• 1/4 tsp salt
• 1/4 cup olive oil
• 2 cups fresh basil leaves, tightly packed
• 1/4 cup pine nuts or walnuts
• 1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan

Blitz the peeled garlic in the food processor to chop it. Add salt and olive oil, then blitz some more until smooth. Add basil and nuts, and continue to process until smooth, stopping occasionally to scrape down the sides of the bowl. Remove the pesto to a bowl and stir in the grated Parmesan.

I guess you can freeze pesto in an ice-cube tray, then pop the cubes into a plastic freezer bag to use in future dishes. Toss it with hot, drained pasta, or stir a spoonful into tomato soup or ratatouille. I’d also serve a little blob on French bread with a slice of goat cheese – bet that would be phenomenal.

Absent-mindedly splashed too much water into the food processor while making salsa verde with some farm tomatillos. Now I have more of a slurry verde than a salsa. I’m sure it will be good drizzled on grilled chicken. It’s emerald green, with tiny tomatillo and chile seeds throughout.

• 3/4 lb. tomatillos, husked and quartered
• 2 serrano chiles, coarsely chopped
• 1/4 yellow onion, coarsely chopped
• 1/3 cup cilantro, coarsely chopped
• 1/3 cup water <-- I would go easy on this at first, depending on what kind of salsa you like
• salt

What I did: throw everything into the food processor and blend to watery slurry.
What I would do next time: omit water, pulse-chop in the food processor to retain a nice texture, then maybe add a tablespoon or 3 of water if absolutely necessary.

Does anyone else think of Pedro Almodovar’s film Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown when they think of gazpacho? This recipe was printed in the Boston Globe many years ago. It’s a height-of-summer recipe that must be made with garden-fresh tomatoes; please don’t even attempt it with grocery store tomatoes.

1. 1-2 cucumbers
2. salt & pepper
3. 3-4 cloves garlic
4. 2 cups yogurt
5. 3 Tbsp. minced fresh mint

Peel and dice cucumbers. Place them in a colander in the sink, sprinkle salt on top, and let them drain for 20-30 minutes. Meanwhile, crush garlic with some salt (I use a marble mortar & pestle). Blend the crushed garlic with a couple of tablespoons of yogurt; then mix that into the rest of the yogurt. Add fresh minced mint, plus salt and pepper. Drain the diced cucumber and stir that in. Garnish with a bit more mint if you have it.

While talking with my best friend on the phone tonight, the conversation turned to food allergies and veggies we won’t eat. We had been discussing her backyard garden – tomatoes, peppers, basil, and eggplant – and she asked if I’m still allergic to eggplant. It’s true I don’t go out of my way to buy and cook it, but no, the itchy mouth syndrome I experienced as a kid seems to have faded in adulthood. “But I won’t eat okra,” I stated. “I hate all those seeds and the gelatinous stuff holding them in.” She told me a few interesting things: one, frying the okra tends to dry up the gelatinous stuff inside; and two, that very mucilage is used as a binder in certain types of Japanese papermaking. She’s an artist who works in paper, among other media, and knows these things. I mean, how did people figure this stuff out? I know the fable that says a silkworm fell into an empress’ cup of hot tea and thus unraveled its treasure; but who first brought a tub of okra into the studio and started experimenting?

The real reason I don’t care for okra has to do with a particularly graphic scene from a film we were shown in elementary school – some rainforest denizen sliced open a big lizard and all these reptilian eggs spilled out. Sliced seedy okra looks just the same as sliced eggy lizard. I actually will eat okra if offered, just to be polite, but I always think of lizard eggs.

Small, sweet farm beets only need 35 minutes or so to roast. Do this and their sweet, rooty, earthy flavor emerges. I’ll either slice these and add vinaigrette or dice them and add a yogurt dressing. This method is from Perfect Vegetables.

For any quantity of beets:

• Preheat your oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit.
• Trim beet stems to about 1″ long. Trim long roots.
• Scrub your beets under running water.
• Wrap each beet individually in aluminum foil. Place wrapped beets on a rimmed baking sheet or roasting pan.
• Roast until beets are easily pierced by a skewer. For grocery-store beets (four to a pound) that means 45-60 minutes; my small superball-sized beets needed only 35 minutes.
• Remove beets from oven and unwrap CAREFULLY to avoid steam burns. Once they’ve cooled somewhat, peel and use in any recipe… if you can stop yourself from consuming them on the spot.

I roasted about 1/2 lb. of tiny beets yesterday morning before work. Easy.

Consult Lebanese cookbook; consider inadequate quantities of ingredients; consider unwillingness to drive to grocery store; sigh. Pop half a pound of ground beef into the microwave to thaw. Find the bag of green beans from the farm, wash, trim, and slice them into 1″ pieces. Mash garlic with side of knife. Heat garlic in oil in a pot; add thawed beef, stir, cook until no longer pink. Add green beans and the remainder of the large can of diced tomatoes from previous recipe. Add cumin, cinnamon, black pepper. Stir. Wish you’d thought to get a pot of rice going.