Posts filed under 'editorial'
I’ve been thinking about flavor. More specifically, how to get the most flavor out of each ingredient used in a recipe. This is especially important when you want to make a meal and only have a few things on hand. If you can make each ingredient really count, it doesn’t matter if your only throwing a handful of them together.
(Can you tell I need to make a trip to the grocery store really, really badly?)
The recipe I’m going to use as an example of making your ingredients count is a simple minestrone. Before I made the soup I asked myself, “So what technically makes a minestrone?” The answer turned out to be “Almost whatever you want”–which makes it the perfect soup to make when you find your fridge a little more bare than you’d prefer. Minestrone started as the classic “garbage soup.” I prefer to call it these kinds of soups “clean out the fridge soups” myself. The idea is that you do not go grocery shopping to make minestrone. You use whatever you have on hand, be it extra vegetables, canned goods, frozen things, or leftovers.
So how did I get the most out of the ingredients I had?
Caramelized Onions
The extra time put into caramelized onions really pays off. The longer you cook them, the more complex their flavor becomes. I saute my onions for at least 10 minutes in olive oil, until they are a lovely reddish-brown and very soft. It is SO worth the extra few minutes of cooking before you proceed with your meal. Spend the 10 minutes prepping your other veggies to make the rest of the meal go smoothly and quickly.
Canned Tomatoes
Keep a stock of canned tomatoes, if you don’t already. If you buy stewed or fire roasted tomatoes, you already have a leg up. These tomatoes are already partially cooked and have a lot of flavor in a convenient package. Unless it’s mid-summer and I have gorgeous vine-ripened tomatoes, I always go for the canned stuff. It’s easy, cheap, consistent, and tasty. At the risk of sounding like Rachel Ray, it really does help you get “all day flavor” in just a few minutes.
Herbs and Spices
I rarely have fresh herbs available (they’re expensive and I’ve failed at growing my own), but when I do, I try to get the most out of them. Don’t add fresh herbs until the very end of cooking. The delicate flavors will be most enjoyable if you toss your freshly chopped herbs in at the end of whatever you’re making. The residual heat from the dish is enough to carry the flavors through. This applies to pepper, too. Try out fresh cracked pepper, from whole peppercorns, added at the end over your dish. You’ll be astounded at the difference in flavor compared to pre-ground pepper.
How many dishes do you make that start with a bit of oil heated in the pan? If you’re using dried herbs or other spices, try throwing them in at the very beginning, in the oil. Tossing dried herbs and spices into oil and sauteing for a minute or so (longer with whole spices) flavors the oil itself and brings a whole new dimension to your cooking. The majority of Indian dishes start this way, and for good reason.
Salt and Vinegar
I admit that I’m a bit of a salt whore. I love it. But it really is amazing stuff. It doesn’t just make things salty, it actually enhances other flavors. I can taste all the other flavors in my dish much better when it is sufficiently salty. Even pasta cooked in salted water tastes better to me.
I also use vinegar in conjunction with salt. I use the term vinegar loosely to mean nearly anything that’s sour. I keep balsamic vinegar, white wine vinegar, rice vinegar and apple cider vinegar on hand at all times, but lemon juice works great on it’s own in many occasions. Vinegar can be a lifesaver if you over-salt something by accident, but I like to use salt and vinegar together to really punch up a dish’s flavor. They’re a great team. If your dish needs a little “something” and you don’t know what that is, try salt and/or vinegar and see where that gets you. I think it’s easiest to balance the flavors if you add the salt before the vinegar.
Minestrone Soup
Serves 4
Olive Oil
1 Sweet Yellow Onion, diced
1-4 Clove(s) Garlic, minced
1 Can Stewed or Fire Roasted Tomatoes (15 oz), blended
1 Large Carrot, diced
6 Cups of Hot Water or Veg Stock
1 Tbs Tomato Paste
1 Bay Leaf
1/4-1/2 tsp Celery Salt
2/3 Cup Elbow Macaroni
2 Cups Kale, packed
Salt to Taste (I used 1 1/2 tsp)
1/2 Cup Frozen peas
2 Tbs Fresh Herbs (I used marjoram and rosemary, 1 Tbs total after chopping)
Lemon Zest
Black Pepper
Add a few tablespoons of olive oil in the bottom of a soup pot that has a lid. Heat oil and add onions. Cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, for 10 minutes. In the last minute of cooking, add the garlic.
Tip for mincing garlic: After removing the skin (smash it lightly with the flat side of your knife to do that), chop the garlic with a pinch of salt. The salt acts as a tenderizer and the friction of the granules break down the clove to help you achieve a fine mince.
Add the tomatos to the onions and garlic and simmer for another 4-5 minutes. Add the carrot and the water/broth and bring to a boil. Add the tomato paste, bay leaf, and celery salt cook until the carrots begin to soften. Then add macaroni and stir often, making sure it doesn’t stick to the bottom of the pan. Add kale.
Add salt to taste. I used water, and therefore added 1 1/2 tsp of salt. If you used vegetable broth or bullion, you may not need this much salt. Simmer, covered, until the pasta is cooked. Add the peas at the end, they’ll defrost in a matter of seconds. Turn off heat, add fresh herbs.
Ladle soup into bowls and grate some lemon zest over the top of each serving. Sprinkle pepper over the top.
December 12th, 2007
There are innumerable recipes for vegan mac and cheese on the internet. I’ve tried a lot of them. Some of them simply call for “slices of soy cheese” and some vegetable stock to be mixed over pasta. The majority, however, require nutritional yeast, and they usually also require making a roux. The recipe below is from my upcoming cookbook, and it’s one of my favorites. However, if you’ll indulge me for a moment, there are some things about vegan mac and cheeze I want to talk about.
Now, I’m the first to admit “Mac and Yeast” doesn’t quite have the same ring to it. That’s why I tend to call it “Mac and Cheeze”. But I’m also the first to admit that these recipes, even the best of them, don’t really taste all that much like mac and cheese. Some get much closer than others, and a lot are downright tasty. But it’s not cheese. Your omnivore or veggie friend/spouse/child may love it as much as or even more than the real stuff (if you’re lucky), but they probably love it on its own merits, not because they really can’t tell the difference.
But you know what? It doesn’t have to taste exactly the same for me to love it.
A lot of people, myself included, are really interested in making vegan food that’s indistinguishable from the “real” thing. It’s a fun challenge, and oftentimes, a challenge where you can really and truly be successful. But there are many instances where you don’t create something identical, but what you do create is actually good. Different, but yummy. While vegan mac and cheese doesn’t taste exactly like non-vegan mac and cheese, it satisfies the same craving. It’s rich and creamy and salty and vaguely cheese-like. It’s a yummy, thick creamy sauce to top noodles with.
I think that sometimes it’s enough to satisfy your cravings with something similar, if you can’t find something identical. After three years of being vegan, I don’t even crave mac and cheese anymore; I crave mac and yeast.
I think expectation is important with food. If it looks like a grape, you expect it to taste like a grape. If I hand you a glass of sparkling wine and tell you it’s gingerale, you might be put off when you take a sip. You might even like wine, but you expected it to be, well, not wine. If I say, “here, try this mac and cheese” and give you mac and yeast, you might be disappointed when you tasted it. If you’ve never tried a mac and yeast recipe before, and you want to try this one, keep in mind that it doesn’t taste like cheese.
It just tastes like yummy. Well, it does to me and the vegans that tested the recipe for me!
Mac and Cheeze
Serves 2-3
1/3 Cup Earth Balance Margarine
1/4 Cup All Purpose Flour
2 1/2 Tbs Low Sodium Tamari or Soy Sauce
1 Tbs Lemon Juice, fresh
1 Tbs Sweet/White/Mellow Miso
1 Tbs Tahini
1 Tbs Tomato Paste (not sauce!)
1 1/4 Cup Soy Milk
1/3 Cup Nutritional Yeast
1 Pinch Salt
Black Pepper, to taste
Begin by heating a sauce pan and adding the earth balance. Once melted, add flour and whisk vigorously until a smooth paste forms, called a roux. Be careful not to add flour to a pan that is very hot, or your roux will be lumpy and you’ll need to start over. If you mix in the flour as soon as the margarine is melted and you should avoid any problems.
To this paste, add tamari, lemon, miso, tahini, and tomato paste and whisk until well incorporated. The mixture should still be paste-like. Then slowly pour in the soymilk, whisking constantly, until it is completely incorporated. Add the yeast and mix well. Cook the mixture until it thickens, whisking often. This should take approximately 5 minutes, but it’s flexible. Add salt and pepper to taste.
I like this the most baked. Cook 3 cups of dry, small pasta (like elbows or shells or rotini) and toss with the finished cheezy sauce. Add steamed broccoli (pictured) for a real treat. Top with fresh breadcrumbs and bake at 400º for 25 minutes, or until browned and bubbly.
I’ve spilled so much ink so far (well, pixels) telling you that vegan cheese doesn’t taste like cheese, so I figured I’d close the entry with this: vegan cheese that, to me, tastes like mother forkin’ cheese! It deserves an entire entry devoted to it, so I’ll just leave you with this until part two of my vegan cheese post:
October 17th, 2007
I just can’t wait for my CSA shares to start coming in, so yesterday I went to a farmers market in downtown Boston. My hopes were high, and I spent the entire train ride imagining all the fun greens and maybe even baby spring vegetables I’d bring home. When I arrived, the first tent was full of flowers. The next, herbs. Then there was a bread and pastry tent, some more herbs and flowers, and… that was it.
Where are my vegetables!
I milled around the short string of tents, walking up and down the line, desperately trying to find something other than impatiens and coffee cake. Then I started asking myself, “well, do I need a $25 two year old rosemary plant?” I wanted the answer to be yes, but I kept moving. Finally, tucked between chocolate mint and calla lilies was a huge basket of… leaves? Vines? I wasn’t sure what it was, but it looked like I could eat it. The sign said, “Organic Sweet Pea Tendrils - $3/box.”
I marched up and said, “I’ll take a box, please” as the man behind the table was trying to offer me a sample. “oh,” he said, “you’ll just buy some then?” He probably had spent most of the morning explaining what pea tendrils are and handing out samples to convince people that they really are tasty and you really should eat them. But not me! I’m used to buying mysterious vegetables.
I have a bit of an addiction to trying new and interesting greens. I had no idea, of course, that you could eat pea tendrils. I had no clue as to what they tasted like, but I didn’t care! I wanted a box of that leafy mass he was standing behind; I’d figure out the details later. Of course, as soon as I got home I spent an hour googling them, all the while wishing I had asked a few questions when I bought them.
So here’s what I found out: they are usually lightly stir fried in Chinese cooking, but I think that pertains to pea tendrils that are a bit older and sturdier than the ones I bought. The tendrils I came home with were very delicate, almost the same texture as the clover you have growing in your lawn but with crisper stems. I had no desire to cook them at all, so I whipped up this salad. I did keep the asian flavors, though, by using daikon radish and a sesame soy dressing.
I hope I find them again before spring is over. They are deliciously crisp and sweet, and they taste like peas! Their texture is nice balance between the soft leaves and the thin crispy stems. They don’t keep well, so if you find them at a farmers market or elsewhere, be prepared to eat them that day. I hear you can even grow them yourself quite easily, even indoors.
In short, I’m in love with pea tendrils. You should be, too.
May 31st, 2007
After my admission that I just don’t like beets, a few of you mentioned how I should give them another try. I’m willing to, but not without your help!
Do you have a favorite beet recipe? One that, if only beet haters would try, they’d see the error of their beet-hating ways? Email me your recipe, and I’ll make it, eat it, try my best to like it, and show you my results. If for some reason I receive more than three beet recipes (god help me), I’ll pick my three favorite and post them here.
So, what say ye? Are you going to help conquer my fear of beets?
January 30th, 2007
Organic Winter Vegetables
I decided to buy whatever organic vegetables I saw that made me even slightly uncomfortable. Anytime I saw a something tuberous, I grabbed it. If it was bumpy, ugly, or scarred, I placed it in my basket. It was sort of fun, but I did allow myself a few favorites. I must confess, however, that I was unable to completely follow my own rules when I shamefully ignored not one but two different varieties of beets.
I’m just not ready for beets. I don’t want to talk about it.
While I’m confessing, I should also admit that I had no idea what one one of the vegetables I purchased even was. I searched in vain for a sign, but finally decided to just buy it and watch the computer screen for information when the cashier rang it up. I was very pleased with this plan, and thought about what it could be as the cashier begin to sort through my small, lumpy mountain.
She scanned the purple fingerlings, the celery roots, the giant rutabaga. The turnips rang up without issue, boldly declaring themselves “purpletop” on the giant screen in front of me, and I smiled at the information. The kale, of course, wasn’t an problem, and neither were the russets. At last she came to my mystery vegetable and held it up, with a pained look on her face. Crap.
“What exactly is this?” she asked me.
“I don’t know?”
“Can you go look up the price per pound?”
“There wasn’t a sign,” I said, defeated.
Other customers waiting behind me began to inspect my basket full of winter’s bounty as help was called in over the PA system. They didn’t seem frustrated about the wait, in fact, they seemed to enjoy playing Guess the Vegetable.
“Is it an artichoke?” the man behind me asked, and I was slightly pained that he could confuse artichokes with whatever this was, but then realized that I was the one buying a common vegetable that I didn’t recognize. Someone else suggested it was perhaps a Jerusalem artichoke, but I knew that wasn’t the right answer either. The head of the produce section finally arrived, and looked equally vexed as she palmed the mystery lump. We all studied the cheat-sheet of vegetable codes, hoping to divine the answer. It was getting embarrassing.
Finally, a mother toting two children stepped up and said, “Kohlrabi.” She even spelled it. Correctly.
I sheepishly placed it in my bag, paid, and left. Now the real challenge begins. You all need to keep me honest. I’m going to try my best to use all of these, all of these, and to resist the urge the blend everything up into a soup and pretend this never happened.
I have some research to do. Thank goodness for the internet.
January 11th, 2007
