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Remembrance of Things Spice

June 7, 2017 by Carol Leave a Comment

Proust had his madeleines. For me, opening a container of za’atar releases an aroma that sparks memories of strolling through the shuk, the golden light caresssing ancient stone walls. The scent also stimulates my appetite for fresh-from-the-oven pita, warm, soft and chewy, with a salty and piquant tang.

The za’atar that we know from its association with labneh and hummus on mezze plates is a condiment made from a mix of spices, herbs, and seeds, and the recipe varies from place to place.

But in fact, the name za’atar also applies to a family of related herbs that grow in the Middle East: oregano, savory, marjoram, thyme. I think it most closely resembles oregano, at least the bush that grows in my garden.

It’s really easy to mix your own za’atar if you can’t get it locally, or if you simply love the idea of making something from scratch. Just mix the following ingredients together:

1/4 cup sumac
2 tablespoons thyme
1 tablespoon roasted sesame seeds
2 tablespoons marjoram
2 tablespoons oregano
1 teaspoon coarse salt

Making a Rhubarb Over Rhubarb

June 6, 2017 by Carol Leave a Comment

Rhubarb season is here, and with it comes all sorts of childhood memories. A big patch in back of our next-door neighbors’ garage was a treasure we looked forward to every year. We kids would snap off stalks to chomp on, the intense sour seemingly not a problem for us as we sat in a circle telling ghost stories into the dark on balmy summer evenings. It may even have enhanced the spooky atmosphere.

And, when he wasn’t practicing optometry, my Uncle Reub was a big-time gardener and grafter of tree fruit. In his garden was a large patch of rhubarb from which my Aunt Bea, a phenomenal cook and baker, incorporated the veggie into fabulous strawberry-rhubarb pies.

Perhaps due to these fond memories, perhaps because it is a super-easy plant to maintain, I still love rhubarb, and have two different varieties growing in my garden. In fact, one of the plants came from my father’s backyard, and I have recently offered a piece of that plant to my eldest son, Seth. Given my total lack of success with bonsai, I figured this would be my way of perpetuating the family love of gardening and a memento of his grandfather. Growing the family tree, as it were.

I also believe that rhubarb has the power to save a romance. The first time my then-boyfriend came to visit, my stepmother had cooked mackerel for dinner. The house reeked of the oily fish, so I rushed out to the garden, picked some stalks, grabbed a pint of strawberries from the fridge, and baked a pie. By the time Joel arrived, flowers in hand, the house smelled divine. He is now my husband.

Although the repertoire of recipes for this beloved veggie isn’t vast, there are enough dishes to make use of my garden’s crop. I refer you to this recipe for a fabulous rhubarb bread, with the suggestion to add a teaspoon of vanilla to the batter to make it perfect, and the warning that there may be too much batter for the recommended loaf pan. It may overflow. Enjoy! http://allrecipes.com/recipe/237548/rhubarb-bread/

The (Northern) Spy Who Came in From the Cold (Storage)

December 23, 2016 by Carol 1 Comment

apples

Apples are probably the most American of fruits. We like apples so much that Bartlett’s Quotations is full sayings about it:
The apple of my eye
An apple a day keeps the doctor away
An apple for the teacher
One bad apple spoils the entire barrel
In fact, apples are as American as, well, apple pie.
And then, of course, is Johnny Appleseed, the man crossed the country spreading seed so that no man would be without hard cider.
But, for all my love of country, I have a confession. For several years, I gave up on eating most of the orbs, and for good reason.
The old standby McIntoshes of my childhood had become flavorless.
Red Delicious can be mealy.
Gala and Fiji are a little too sweet, and Golden Delicious is sickly sweet.
McCouns were great eaten straight from the tree but they have a very short season. Most of the McCouns I’ve bought at the grocery get soft and mushy fast. And, by the way, how do you pronounce the name? is it McCoun as in crown, or McCoun as in coon?)
Bottom line: I’ve been missing the refreshing crunch and sweet-tart flavor of a good eating apple, the kind I used to pick when I worked as a picker in an orchard.
But, wouldn’t you know, just as I was beginning to think that I would never find the perfect apple, along came the SnapDragon. Developed at Cornell University and based on the Honey Crisp, these apples are the absolute best for eating out of hand: sweet, but not too sweet, and crisp, crisp, crisp. Since the variety is fairly new, its availability is not widespread, but I was lucky to discover them at my local Price Chopper.
I now have a reason to come in from the cold storage.
The SnapDragon is now the apple of my eye.

Stuffed Sabich Sandwich Satisfies

May 2, 2016 by Carol 1 Comment

Although I had a boyfriend of Iraqi-Kurdish descent when I was young, and spent a fair amount of time at his family’s home, I had never heard of, much less eaten, a sabich. But on a recent visit to Israel I was introduced to this iconic sandwich made with fried eggplant, tehina, hummus, hardboiled egg, Israeli salad, pickles, sometimes a potato, and pickled mango sauce called amba– all stuffed into a pita or rolled into laffa. What was once a traditional Saturday morning breakfast for Iraqi Jews has become an Israeli street food almost as popular as falafel.

If that is true, then why hadn’t I ever had one before? After all, I’ve been to Israel numerous times, an even lived there for a while.

The situation had to be remedied.

So, on my day off from meetings, I wound my way down to Jerusalem’s Ben Yehuda pedestrian mall, curious to try something new. I ordered myself a sabich at Moshiko. The guy behind the counter piled so many ingredients onto the large flat laffa that, when he rolled it up, it threatened to burst. Pieces of vegetable and egg fell onto the counter; he stuffed them back in and sent me on my way.

I found a seat outside at a high-top table, laid paper down and dug in. Now, I happen to have a very healthy appetite, but this particular sabich could have fed a small family. Vegetables slithered out, carrying with them dripping sauce and challenging both my balancing abilities and the dimensions of my mouth.

I got only about a quarter of the way through before deciding to focus my attention on the eggplant. It was luscious, if a bit oily, with crispy edges. After a few morsels I gave up, realizing that I probably would have been just as happy with a simple combination of eggplant, tehina, and some shredded cabbage – in a small pita.

Last night I prepared sabich for dinner using the recipe below, with a few changes, and it was very good. A very helpful hint for frying eggplant: toss it in a bowl with one or two beaten egg whites first. It reduces the amount of oil absorbed into the normally sponge-like fruit. Also, I prefer my eggplant cubed rather than sliced. It cooks faster and allows for more surfaces to be crispy.

http://www.seriouseats.com/recipes/2016/03/sabich-sandwich-eggplant-egg-hummus-pita-recipe.html

Locavore or Faravore?

March 1, 2016 by Carol 1 Comment

Locavore. Locally grown. Farm-to-table. These terms have become ubiquitous among the health conscious, environmentally aware, and food-loving population. It sometimes seems that if you don’t know where that apple was grown, you don’t want it. Somewhat in this vein, my daughter once told me that if she were to eat chicken, she would want to know how it was raised, what it was fed, and that she would even want to visit the farm so that she could confirm its good upbringing. My response was that by the time she had done all that she would have known the bird too well – probably by name – and would never have taken a bite. After all, could she eat somebody whose home she had visited?

But, back to that apple. Where did it really come from? And what about the peanut in your PB&J? Or the eggplant in your parmigiana?

Fascinated almost to the point of obsession, I have spent the past few years researching the histories of some of my favorite foods: their origins, how they got to various points across the globe, and what the people of those places have done with them. I have found — and prepared — not only recipes that include the foods, but all manner of artifacts, literature, and rituals.

The research has been fun and sometimes even surprising. (Who knew that the tomato was the subject of a U.S. Supreme Court case?) And the variety of dishes is amazing. Take the grape. The French, Brazilians, Hungarians, and Mexicans all have different ways of incorporating it into their national cuisines, and all in different ways.

It’s time to make supper now. What shall it be tonight?

Around the Garden in 60 Days: A Jules Verne Vegetable

July 9, 2015 by Carol 1 Comment

Growing up in a small New England town, I never saw kohlrabi, but while volunteering on a kibbutz one year (breakfast and supper both featuring a cornucopia of super-fresh produce), I fell in love with the bulb. The flavor is mild with just a tiny bit of a kick. Not as spicy as a radish, but with the same wonderful crunch.

A member of the cabbage family and also known by the names turnip cabbage and German turnip, kohlrabi comes in both red and pale green color and, once the stems and leaves are removed, looks somewhat like an underwater vessel you might see in a Jules Verne novel.

I just knew it was a sign when I saw sets at the garden shop this spring. I had to try my hand at planting them. The challenge would be that my luck at growing vegetables is variable. Some plants produce bountifully – in my freezer I still have jalapeno and banana peppers from four years ago. Bell peppers, on the other hand, are stingy and kind of bitter. In fact, the grocery store varieties are better. Far better. When it comes to eggplant, the Ichiban variety is prolific for months, while the big fat Black Beauties grant me only two or three fruits at most.

So, hopeful but not delusional, I prepared the garden with the whole nine yards of stuff: organic fertilizer, compost, water, mulch. Just two months and a few prayers later, I returned from a week away from home to find that the kohlrabi was ready to harvest. Pretty fast by New England standards. Even better, the animals seem to be staying away, perhaps stymied by the obstacle course provided by so many stems and leaves surrounding the hard bulbs. (My tomatoes are being devoured by rabbits and chipmunks, necessitating better fencing.)

It was a good experiment but, in retrospect, since only one bulb comes from each plant, there may be better uses of the space in the garden. The farmer’s market is sure to have some, right?