Showing posts with label salad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label salad. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Smooth Sailing to Turkey Town


I'm usually engulfed in flames on this Wednesday before Thanksgiving, but not this time around. Not this year. Nope. I am not cramming a ninety-dollar turkey into a too-small roasting pan. I am not making lists and oven schedules. I am not conquering the horrid, filthy-spirited crowds in the grocery store pre-holiday rush. I am not driving, or flying, or packing Murray's giant suitcase for a trip. And I am so, so thankful.

I am, in fact, sitting on the couch, listening to said dog snore and snuffle, being utterly thankful for my furnace and my sweater that are protecting me from the fifteen degrees outside, and gearing up to tell you about this one-stop turkey stop that you'll really be quite smitten with. You will want to start thinking about concocting this dish after the guests have left, when you're tired of heavy foods, and you just need some easy work-week lunches that you don't have to think about much at all. 

But about that whole I'm-relaxing-today thing. First of all, let's be thankful for new holiday traditions, because that's exactly what got me out of this whole Thanksgiving mess in the first place. For the second year in a row, we've had a Chicago Thanksgiving on the Saturday before Real Thanksgiving. It was, I believe, my mother's idea in the first place, and she is brilliant, so it makes quite a bit of sense that this would be a success. My immediate family comes here, and Andy and I host. We have Thanksgiving-ish foods, but, truly, anything goes. We drink too much, laugh a lot, and eat quite a bit of cheese. Murray sniffs everyone, because that is his best thing, and we want to make sure everyone has a job in which they can succeed. 

The glory of all of this is that I get to do the planning and shopping and gathering well before all the, you know, regular people do theirs. The stores are still stocked, the lines are shorter, no one is grumpy yet, and if I forget something the day before the meal, then I can go out and get it without feeling like I am willingly tossing myself into an erupting volcano. It's so, so good. Holiday hosting has never been so peaceful.

So, then there's round two: Andy's family. While we would typically be loading up the car right now to travel to Indiana, we're not this time! Indiana is coming HERE to Chicago, and all we have to do is go downtown, park the car, get in an elevator, and travel upwards to the 36th floor of Andy's cousins' apartment, where we will enjoy our first-ever high-rise Thanksgiving. (Food provided. Glorious.) I have been assigned to dessert, so I'll rattle around in the kitchen a little later today and come up with some sort of fashionable way to get sugar into the bodies of fourteen people. I think I can do it. This is all pretty sweet, right? 

Now that you know where to find me today and tomorrow, let's just make a plan to see each other next week. You bring the Thanksgiving salad that I taught you how to make, and we'll talk about whether or not we ended up surviving the holiday weekend. I'll bring the whiskey. I know, I know! That's all? That's the best I can do? Forgive me. Relaxation, you see, is the name of the new game.

Thanksgiving Salad
serves a lot 

1 C farro
1 C barley
3 bay leaves
4 C butternut squash, peeled and cubed
1 large sweet potato, peeled and cubed
1 onion, diced
5 stalks celery, trimmed and diced
5-8 cloves garlic, chopped
2-3 big handfuls of green beans, trimmed and chopped
1 C dried cranberries
2-3 C chopped or shredded turkey
small handful of fresh sage, chopped fine
sliced almonds
fried onions
olive oil
salt and pepper
red pepper flakes, optional
parsley, optional
flavored vinegar, optional

Preheat oven and your empty roasting pan for 20-30 minutes at 450 degrees.

Cook barley and farro with the bay leaves for about 10 minutes, or until soft but still chewy. Drain, remove leaves, and set aside to cool. 

Toss butternut and sweet potato with a few tablespoons olive oil and take that hot, hot pan out of the oven. Pour mixture onto the pan and spread evenly. Roast in the oven for 20-30 minutes or until browned and slightly caramelized (every oven is so different when it comes to roasting times, so just keep an eye on it and toss every once in a while to see what the underneaths look like). 

Heat another 2-3 tablespoons of olive oil in a big pan or dutch oven. Sauté onion, celery, and garlic until onions start to brown. I like them caramelized, so I'd recommend adding small amounts of water as the onions cook, and scraping the pan down as you go. Add sage and cook for another few minutes. Then add green beans and another splash of water and cook on medium-high for a few minutes. Make sure the green beans cook only long enough to turn bright-bright green. Turn off heat and stir in cranberries.

Combine roasted vegetables, grains, and onion mixture in a giant bowl. Toss well, adding salt, pepper, and olive oil to taste. I would strongly recommend using a flavored olive oil for this dish! I used garlic olive oil, chipotle olive oil, and a smattering of red pepper flakes. This would also be a great time to add in a handful of chopped fresh parsley if you have it. A dash or two of a flavored vinegar also compliments this dish. I used cranberry-pomegranate vinegar and it was worth repeating.

Top with fried onions and sliced almonds and serve at room temperature all by itself or with a simple cream-based soup (tomato! butternut! red pepper! pumpkin!) and bread.

Notes:
•You can use all barley, or all farro for this if you'd rather. It would also be terrific with orzo, brown rice, or wild rice. 

•Sage! Fresh will be excellent, but dried will also definitely work. 

•The fried onions are, to me, the thing that really makes this dish. I am skeptical of the French's brand, but Trader Joes' makes a much-less junky version of fried onions that are super delicious. You can also make your own, but no pressure here. This salad is already a bit labor-intensive!

•This salad saves well. Keep in tupperware in the fridge, and freshen it up with some olive oil or seasoning before serving. It tastes good at room temperature, but it also heats up well!

Murray gets especially tired after preparing Thanksgiving salad.

Thursday, November 1, 2012

The Antidote


You're over-sugared. I know it. 

A month of pre-Halloween treats, a week of super-intense pre-Halloween treats, and then Halloween itself. Oh, sugar day! I think the rule is: if it's not at least 90% sugar, then you are not allowed to eat it on Halloween. But now today is here, and it is November, and candy is just not as cool as it was yesterday. We're finally allowed to eat things that are NOT made out of sugar, and I am feeling pretty relieved. Vegetables, hang on! I'm coming for you!

For months, I've been meaning to talk to you about how dreadfully sick I've gotten of hearing about kale. Kale this! Kale that! It's so good for you! Eat it every day and you'll never die! Put it in everything! Eat it for every meal! Eat kale or you'll just start rotting away into a nutrition-deprived death-state! I've gotten so tired of being told to eat kale. I was so frustrated, in fact, that I gave up on it. I determined that I really wasn't thrilled with any sort of cooked kale, and I'm now kind of out on the whole kale-chip craze, and, well, I refuse to disguise kale as something else. That said, I do love kale. A lot. Obsessively. I shall now explain!

If you can possibly believe it, the way I learned to love kale was by eating it raw. This sounds a little backwards, I suppose, since kale is at its toughest and least friendly when it's raw, but somehow the rough texture and bitter, grassy flavor really does it for me. Plus, I feel like a dinosaur, chomping on the coarse, wild greens I have just foraged. And we all need to feel a little more like the dinosaurs. (Side note: one of my students today, age 3, explained that he had been a dinosaur for Halloween. Oh, I say, Cool! What kind of dinosaur? He had no idea and was relieved to say YES when I asked, Were you just a regular dinosaur? He then gushed forth about his love for dinosaurs, tripping over his tongue with excitement. I just, I just, I just, I just LOVE dinosaurs! I just love them so much. I love them, I love them, I love them A HUNDRED.)

So, all of this is appropriate considering that the very best kind of kale to use in a salad is lacinato kale, commonly referred to as dinosaur kale, due to its bumpy dark greenness. Curly kale works, but it's just not my favorite for salad. Either way, I feel like lettuce and spinach just need to take seat and relax for awhile, because I just don't need them right now. Get out, other green stuff! I have kale!

Before you embark, I would like to outline what I believe to be the five tenets of kale usage in salad:

1. Wash and dry really well. Use a salad spinner!
2. Remove ribs and any super-thick veins (eww, this is starting to sound gross).
3. Cut leaves in half lengthwise and then into half-inch wide strips.
4. Always toss with the dressing. Never serve it on the side or you will choke from leaf stiffness.
5. Don't toss the salad with utensils! Use your hands to work the dressing into the leaves.

Now then. Let's see about these recipes. 

In order to get ready, I would recommend getting yourself some nice red wine, a rotisserie chicken, some good bread, and perhaps some soft, lovely cheese, like a brie or such. This will be the meal that accompanies the kale salad, and you will be so happy. Both recipes serve two, so feel free to double or triple or quadruple for a crowd. Once you get more accustomed to these recipes, you may want to add some other ingredients. You'll see carrots, chicken, and croutons in my photograph above -- that was a lunch salad that ended up having the chicken in it, rather than accompanying it. Add some extra things if you want, but try not to overdo it! The simple flavors of these two salads are perfect as is, so no need to gild the lily. Or gild the kale, as it were.

Also, may I say this in reference to your squirms when you see the word "anchovies" in this first recipe? Once upon a time I thought that I didn't like anchovies, either! Well, it turns out that I was wrong. They've been given a bad name, I'm afraid, and it's just silly. Tiny fish are so important! Anchovies are amazing, and they will give this salad an incredible flavor that you can't get from anything else. Buy the anchovies. Use the anchovies. You will not be sorry.

Kale Salad #1
1 small bunch lacinato kale, ribs removed
3 anchovies, bashed into a pulp by way of mortar and pestle (or chopped and smashed using any other kitchen tool you'd like)
2-3 cloves garlic, minced
8-10 Medjool dates, finely chopped (get the pitted kind)
1/4 C olive oil
1/2 T red wine vinegar
salt and pepper
pumpkin seeds for serving

Cut kale into strips as described above. Whisk to combine anchovy pulp, garlic, dates, olive oil, vinegar, and a dash of salt and pepper. Toss kale and dressing together in a big bowl, taking time to make sure all the leaves are coated and saturated with the dressing. Top with pumpkin seeds.

Kale Salad #2
1 small bunch lacinato kale, ribs removed
juice of one lemon
1/2 C grated pecorino
2-3 cloves garlic, minced
red pepper flakes
3-5 T olive oil
salt and pepper
toasted breadcrumbs for serving

Cut kale into strips as described above. Whisk to combine lemon juice, pecorino, garlic, and olive oil,  adding salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes to taste. Toss kale with dressing in a big bowl, taking time to make sure all the leaves are coated and saturated with the dressing. Top with breadcrumbs.

Kale + you = best friends forever