Each month, when Gigi and I host the Third Thursday Community Pot Luck Dinner, we put our heads together a few days beforehand to decide what we want to make. Seasonality, of course, takes the front burner. What we find flourishing in our respective gardens figures prominently in the mix. And, then, it’s where ever else the kitchen muse directs us…

“Look at ALL these turtle beans,” Gigi said, bringing out bowls mounded with shiny purple-black pebbles. She placed them on her kitchen counter.
“I don’t know how farmers can make any money. I spent hours shelling them. I haven’t even calculated the time in planting, weeding, and harvesting.”

I nodded. “They are impressive,” I said. Who knew that you could grow black beans in Tennessee? “We will definitely showcase them in some way.”

“And, don’t forget, I have lots of peppers and garlic!” Gigi paused. “The cilantro’s gone, but its seeds are ready too.”

“Toasted coriander, ” I said.

I reminded her of the large bag—a lifetime supply, she believed–of quinoa stashed in her pantry. A Southwest themed salad, hearty, healthy, and protein-rich, seemed to be in the works…

But, what else would we make?

My little front yard farmette is but a speck, compared to Gigi’s Wedgewood Urban Gardens, however, my two lemon basil plants had grown into fragrant bushes. It would be nice to use the lot in a dish for the potluck.

I went home and stared into my own pantry—seeking a spark, a nudge, any ingredient to highlight the herb. I scanned over boxes of capellini, penne, fusilli, but pasta didn’t excite me. Brown rice, jasmine rice, arborio, no, they all seemed wrong.

Then I found a bag of bulgur wheat. Hmmmm. While parsley and mint are key to Tabouleh, it is a distinctly lemony salad. Why wouldn’t lemon basil work in place of parsley and mint?

Yes, friends, we have a winner!

In no time, I made a lemon basil pesto, which worked its lemon-scented magic in the cracked wheat. Not unlike tabouleh, but less green tasting, this salad was refreshing and summery, and turned out to be a complementary partner to the black bean-quinoa.

Side by side on the table, our potluck offerings were rather yin and yang, light and dark, crisp and soft, cool and spicy, citrus and chocolate….

LEMON BASIL CRACKED WHEAT SALAD
2 cups Cracked Bulgur Wheat
2 Lemons, for juice and zest
2 cloves Garlic
1/2 cup Olive Oil
1 bunch Lemon Basil leaves (about 1 1/2-2 cups)
Sea Salt
Fresh Ground Black Pepper
2 ripe Tomatoes, diced
1/2 Red Onion, diced

Soak cracked wheat in fresh water for at least 15 minutes and rinse well. Set aside in a bowl.
Using the food processor with a swivel blade, make a pesto using garlic, lemon basil leaves, lemon zest, lemon juice, and olive oil. Season with salt and pepper.

Stir lemon basil pesto into the cracked wheat. Stir in diced tomatoes and onion. Set into the fridge and allow the flavors to meld into the cracked wheat.

BLACK BEAN QUINOA SALAD
2 cups Black Beans, rinsed and picked over
2 T. Olive OIl
1 Onion, diced
1 Poblano Pepper, diced (or 2-3 Jalapenos)
2 cloves Garlic, minced
1 Tomato, chopped
1 t. Cumin
1 t. toasted Coriander Seed
1 cup Quinoa, rinsed three times, and drained
1 1/2 cups Water
1 Lime, for juice and zest
Salt
Red Pepper Flakes

For the Black Beans: (if fresh, there is no need to soak. If dried, soak the beans for at least 3 hours. Drain and rinse.)

In a 2 qt. saucepan, saute chopped onions and peppers in olive oil until onions are translucent. Add garlic and diced tomatoes. Season with cumin and coriander. Saute for 5 minutes. Add black beans and stir until beans are well coated. Add water to cover the beans, and simmer, covered, for 30 minutes. Skim off any foam that accumulates on the top and stir. Simmer until beans are soft but still intact. Can be prepared the day before and refrigerated.

For the Quinoa:
Heat a skillet and add the well-rinsed quinoa. Stir under medium heat to toast the grain—about 5 minutes. Add water and stir. Season with salt and red pepper flakes. Cook, covered, under low heat for 30 minutes.

To Assemble:
Stir the black beans into the quinoa mixture. Add lime zest and juice from one lime. Stir well. Sample for salt and heat, and adjust to taste.

Listen, what if I told you that the festive-as-confetti salad above was created using the stovetop for, say, five minutes. That’s the time it takes to boil less than 2 cups of water, right? Five minutes of cooking.

Sounds pretty compelling, especially when you consider the oppressive, in-the-nineties heat that barged in last week like an unwelcome guest—and has yet to pack up and leave.

But credible?

BELIEVE! This Too Good To Be True recipe is bonafide: Healthy, full of intriguing flavors and textures, Curried Fruit Couscous also requires almost no cooking.

This fabulous recipe comes courtesy of Michele Watkins Knaus, a chef and food activist currently living in Portland, Oregon. She worked for me several years ago, filling in while my right arm Tonya was on maternity leave. Later, we catered Michele’s wedding, and this was one of her specialties that she asked us to prepare.

The basic recipe serves 6-8 generously, and readily multiplies: Doubled, Quadrupled, Times Twelve, Times Twenty—-it’s one of those caterer’s dream recipes that can be made in mass quantities with exceptional results.

You can serve it mounded in large bowl, or molded into pretty individual servings. Eat it by itself, or along with salad greens. Or, take it uptown: Use it as a foundation for fancy-pants grilled sea scallops, or butter-sauteed trout.

Don’t be daunted by the list of ingredients. You already have some of the essentials in your pantry. For the rest, with a little forethought, and a quick trip to the grocery, you can assemble everything you need. The beauty of the dish is in the couscous itself.

Boiled water poured over the couscous in a bowl, stirred and sealed, cooks it to fluffy perfection. While the tiny pasta grains sit in that bowl, effortlessly absorbing the water, you can shred carrots, slice dried apricots, chop flat leaf parsley.

The dressing whisks up in a heartbeat. The yogurt binds the oil and vinegar, and serves as a terrific vehicle for the spice. Vegan friends can substitute a soy based yogurt; that’s all it takes to make it vegan friendly.

You may want to double the Curried Yogurt Dressing, and save half to drizzle over some salad greens, or grilled chicken, alongside your couscous.

The colorful array combines to make a satisfying summer dish, spice and sweet, fast and cool. Thanks, Michele!

CURRIED FRUIT COUSCOUS adapted from Michele Watkins Knaus

The Couscous
1 ½ cups Couscous
1 ½ cups Water
½ t. Kosher Salt

The Curried Yogurt Dressing
¼ c. Plain Yogurt
¼ cup Olive Oil
1 t. White Balsamic or White Wine Vinegar
1 t. Curry Powder
½ t. Turmeric
1 t. Kosher Salt
1 t. fresh ground Black Pepper
dash of crushed Red Pepper Flakes

The Salad Fruits-Veggies-Nuts
½ c. Carrots, shredded
½ c. Flat Leaf Parsley,coarsely chopped
½ c. Dried Apricots, slivered and diced
½ c. Golden Raisins
¼ c. Toasted Almonds, chopped
3 Scallions, chopped, green tops included

Place couscous into medium bowl . Add ½ t. to 1 ½ c. water and bring to a boil. Pour over the couscous and quickly stir. Cover tightly with plastic wrap—the couscous will absorb the water and be cooked in 5 minutes. Remove wrap and fluff with a fork.

Whisk together: yogurt, olive oil, vinegar, curry powder, turmeric, salt, black and red peppers. Pour over the couscous, and stir until all is well coated.

Add all the dried fruits, nuts, carrots, parsley and stir well. Serve in a large bowl, or make individual molds by pressing the salad firmly into a small bowl, and then invert onto a salad plate.

Serves 6-8

“If there’s one thing I can do, I can grow leeks.”

That was Gigi’s pronouncement, as we trudged, shovels-in-arms, up the hill to the sunny patch where a long row of leeks stood tall and fat in the ground.

But as we surveyed the rest of her Wedgewood Urban Gardens, we leek-diggers were most amazed—and thrilled—to find an array of other good things growing. Mother Nature was doing what she does best, mostly unattended:

Thyme and tarragon, rumpled spinach,
Chives and spring onions, feathery carrot greens,
shoots of sorrel, cilantro, rainbow chard,
Big tufts of curly kale.

Very quickly, the idea for my community pot luck dish took shape.
I had a package of Heirloom Borlotti Beans (from Rancho Gordo, yes!), several pints of a very prolific peach tomato that Gigi had canned last summer (She can grow those, too!) and now a raft of leeks, chives, and kale. How about a sort of Springtime version of Pasta e Fagioli: Pasta and Beans?

Rather than begin with the usual suspects, onion-carrot-garlic-celery,
this base is All Leek. Sauté the color of spring in some fruity olive oil and give plump borlotti beans a tumble in the greens before adding water and tomatoes.

After simmering for about two hours, the beans become firm but tender. Add the torn-up, crinkly kale leaves to collapse into the stew, and sprinkle in some crushed red pepper flakes. The kale is a wonderful add-in here, those crinkly leaves sop up the flavors and mellow, while retaining tooth.

Something about Gigi’s lemon-colored tomatoes nudged me to take that citrus sensibility a step further, and I sliced a lemon, squeezed a little juice into the pot, and plopped in the fruit, rind and all.

Lovely. That acid tang compliments the nutlike bean, smooth pasta, sweet spring earth of leek. It adds more light to the dish. Perfect, as the sun adds more light to each day…

Oh, and about the pasta: You can put in whatever sort you’d like–small bits are best, saved for the last ten minutes of cooking. Since I have it on very good authority
that it is perfectly acceptable—possibly preferable—to break up ribbons of tagliatelle (but never spaghetti!) into pieces for the pasta component of the dish, that’s exactly what I did!

To Spring!

Heading into Spring Pasta e Fagioli
4 T. Olive Oil
4 Leeks, cleaned and chopped
Salt and Black Pepper
1 lb. Borlotti or Cranberry Beans, soaked overnight
3-4 pints of Canned Tomatoes
1 bunch Kale
Red Pepper Flakes
1 Lemon, cut in half, seeded
1/2 lb. Tagliatelle, broken into pieces
Chives–a handful, chopped

In a stockpot, sauté leeks in olive oil for about five minutes. They will soften and sweeten. Season with salt-n-peppa. Stir in the beans, and let them get well-coated with the olive oil-leek mix before adding water. Add just enough water to cover the beans by an inch or two.

Simmer for 30 minutes and add the canned tomatoes, juice and all.
Simmer, covered, for another 45 minutes. Add the kale and a dusting of red pepper flakes. Squeeze in the lemon juice and toss in the rest.
Simmer another 30 minutes. Taste for salt, black pepper, and red chili heat.

If you want the Pasta e Fagioli thinner, add more liquid (water, tomato juice, vegetable stock) If you’d like it Stand-up Thick, mash a few beans and let it simmer, uncovered.

Break up pasta into the pot, stir in, and cook until pasta is cooked. Garnish with some chopped chives, if you like, and serve.
Makes a Big Batch. (4 qts.)

This past weekend I was in Highlands, North Carolina, a charming mountain community that is home to a number of high-end restaurants. I was there in an unusual capacity—dispatched, you might say, to be one of three judges for their first-ever Iron Chef style culinary competition.

Who would be “King of the Mountain?” Four area chefs faced off, armed with kitchen staples, a box of Secret Ingredients, their sharpened French knives and wits, trying to execute as many daring dishes possible within a 40 minute time period. Yikes, 40 minutes!

And then, we judges got to sample, and score, on the basis of Taste, Presentation, and Creativity….in what seemed seconds.

Indeed, these chefs came up with some exceptional delectables. For one heat, the secret ingredient was sushi-grade Red Grouper. Witness: a gorgeous Grouper Carpaccio, translucent fillet dressed with peppery olive oil, basil and fennel. Grouper and crawfish in a spicy African Peanut Stew, presented in the hollow of a halved coconut. Grilled baby eggplant, mango, and grouper salad in a gingery-caramel-tamari-based dressing that was ultimate Umami.

Inspiring!

It wasn’t until the morning after the competition, while driving the winding way down the mountain, that I started to wonder, what would I have made in 40 minutes…

I didn’t arrive at any great answers. And when I arrived home, I made this Polenta Torta.

Now, even though it is not King of the Mountain caliber, it would score very high points for taste. Mushroom ragu can be as rich and complex as a meat bolognese, and in much less time.

Presentation and creativity score well in the acceptable range.

And, it can be made and assembled in that 40 minute time period…if you’ve got your sharp knife and wits about you.

Polenta Torta layered with Spinach and Mushroom Ragu

For the Polenta:

4 cups Water
1 cup Polenta
1 t. Sea Salt
1 t. good Olive Oil

Bring water a boil and stir in polenta and salt. Stir continuously until polenta incorporates into the liquid. Simmer, stirring occasionally.

Polenta is very forgiving. If it gets too thick, thin with more water. If it’s too thin, just simmer along and it will thicken up. When it is a good, almost pourable consistency, remove from heat and stir in the olive oil.

Mushroom Ragu:
1 T. Olive Oil
1 T. Butter
1 medium Onion, small dice
½ Yellow or Red Bell Pepper, small dice
2 cloves minced Garlic
12 oz. coarsely chopped assorted Mushrooms: portabellos, shiitakes, oyster, cremini…you don’t have to get all of these, 2 or 3 varieties are nice
4-6 sprigs fresh Thyme
Salt
Black Pepper
¼ cup Red Wine
1 cup diced Tomatoes and juice
½ cup low fat Milk

In a skillet under medium heat, melt butter and olive together. Saute onions and peppers until softened; stir in garlic, mushrooms, and thyme. Season with salt and pepper. Saute until mushrooms brown. Add red wine, tomatoes and juice. Stir well, scraping up any browned bits in the skillet. Simmer and stir. Mushrooms will release their liquid and sauce will acquire a pretty reddish-brown hue. Stir in milk; taste for seasonings and adjust.

Spinach Sauté
½ lb. fresh Spinach
2 cloves minced Garlic
Olive Oil
shredded Pecorino Romano

Simple: Heat the oil, toss in the garlic for 30 seconds, then add the spinach leaves. Toss around in the pot until the leaves are coated and collapse. (another minute or two) Remove from heat and dust with a little romano cheese.

Assembly

In a 9×13 casserole dish coated with olive oil, spread a layer of polenta. Follow that with a layer of spinach, then a layer of mushroom ragu. Sprinkle some shredded pecorino romano at this point, if you like.

Repeat the process—all layers again.

At this point, if you are making things ahead of time, you can refrigerate the casserole. It will be ready to bake when you are.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Bake for about 30 minutes–until browned and bubbly.

For my Vegan Friends:
Polenta Torta lends itself to numerous variations.
Simply delete the butter and romano; no milk in the mushroom sauce.
It won’t be quite as Lush—but still very good.
Layers of swiss chard and marinara sauce would be Delish.
And, Pesto layers? Absolutely.

It has been at least eight years since we’ve had REAL snow in Nashville, the kind that starts in the morning as flurries and builds throughout the day, big fat clusters tumbling down, blanketing the trees, the front yards, the roads, diffusing light, muffling sound…. ultimately bringing the city to a standstill.

Wow. It got really quiet.

And, while I was home, cozy (and succumbing to a headcold), I decided to enjoy the snowy shut-down by making simple comforts: bread and soup.

I had enough of the necessary ingredients: and handful of vegetables for the soup pot, some flour and an unexpired package of dry yeast for bread. These are, after all, basic foods.

With broccoli as the star, mirepoix the reliable supporting players, and potatoes comprising the creamy base, it doesn’t take long to make this hearty soup. It also isn’t essential that you add any dairy to achieve richness, although a modest cupful of lowfat milk added at the end is rather nice. A few shavings of sharp white cheddar, too.

But this is a much lighter version of Broccoli-Cheddar that is often served out in the world, all floury and cheesy and fat-laden.
The potatoes add the creaminess, body to the soup. As they cook along, they all but disappear.

like under a blanket of snow.

Chunks of potatoes will break down, adding flavor and body to the soup.

The soup is beginning to thicken, a good time to add the broccoli florets.

Creamy Broccoli Soup
3 T. Olive Oil
4 medium Russet Potatoes, peeled and diced
1 head Broccoli, stems and florets separated, stems chopped
2 medium Onions, chopped
3 Carrots, chopped
3 Celery, chopped
3 cloves Garlic, minced
3 1/2 qts. vegetable stock, or water
Salt-n-Peppa to taste
1 cup lowfat Milk
1/2 cup shredded Vermont Cheddar

Warm olive oil in a stockpot on medium heat. Sauté the diced potatoes for 5 minutes. Add broccoli stems and the mirepoix (carrots-onions-celery) and stir into the mix, sauteing another 5 minutes. Stir in the garlic and season with salt and black pepper.

The vegetables will begin to soften, and stick to the bottom and sides of the pot. Keep stirring, then add the vegetable stock (or water)

The soup will get a glazy thickness to it. Add the broccoli florets to cook into the batch last. Once they are softened, taste for salt and pepper. Stir in a cup of milk and some shredded Vermont Cheddar for added dairy richness and tang.

And now, for the bread part…….

The thing about bread is Time.

That’s all. And it’s not time where You are actually doing anything—it’s the yeast that’s doing all the work. After you mix up the dough, you just have to check in on periodically, give it a punch, knead it and leave it be. And, put it in the oven to bake.

So, I amend that—it’s really about Patience. It’s worth it. I would like to bake bread more than I do—I am not mindful enough to put it into the plan of a day. And while the recipe for this Rosemary Cracked Wheat Bread is not exceptional, I share it to encourage you.(and myself!) It’s not hard. It’s fun. And, delicious. Just simply to get in the kitchen and bake!

Serve the crusty loaf warm, with a slap of butter on it.
Or, get out your fave olive oil, dress it up with a few strips of sundried tomatoes, polka dots of balsamic….carve a little parmegiano-reggiano….

Rosemary-Cracked Wheat Bread

1 cup warm Water
1 package Active Dry Yeast
1 T. sugar
2 t. Sea Salt
2 T. Olive Oil
1 cup Cracked Wheat Flour
1 1/2 -2 cups Unbleached White Flour
2 T. chopped fresh Rosemary

Stir yeast and sugar into warm water. Yeast will begin to activate–bubble. Add salt and olive oil. Add cracked wheat flour and at least 1 cup of the unbleached white flour and make a soft dough. (add more white flour if necessary.) Knead until elastic. Form into a ball and place into a bowl. Cover with a damp cloth and allow to rise in a warm place for an hour. Punch down again, reform into a ball.

Score with a knife, sort of criss-cross fashion.
Brush with olive oil, sprinkle with coarse sea salt and chopped rosemary.
Let rise for another 45 minutes.

Bake at 375 degrees for 35-40 minutes. Crust with be nicely golden and the bread will “thunk.”

Here’s a tale of food blogging interconnections….

I have been reading a most splendid foodblog written by a British woman living in Rome; please go meet rachel of rachel eats. Several of her December posts featured Chestnuts in marvelous incarnations–pâte, soup, cake. Both her pictures and prose really got me longing for them, in some fashion. Alas, with other holiday goings-on, I never got ’round to chestnut hunting.

But I did read the small print on my brand new bag of Christmas Lima Beans from Rancho Gordo, where it mentioned that they were also called Chestnut Limas, due to their exquisite chestnutlike flavor. For those of you who may not know about Rancho Gordo, these are the guys growing all manner and form of wondrous heirloom beans, sought out by fine chefs across the country. And, they make it pretty darn easy for you to get them, too. (a favored stocking stuffer in this household…)

I discovered them through another blogger,
claudia of the esteemed cookeatFRET, through whom, I believe, is also how I found rachel.

So here we come full circle. Rancho Gordo’s Christmas Limas, made into this simple stewy-soup influenced by two foodbloggers, satisfied my two desires: I got to cook up these festive heirlooms during festive times, and I got to have a tasty hint of chestnut.

Trust me, these full-bodied, creamy limas will dispel any unpleasant notions and ill childhood memories of the others, (those awful starchbomb Fordhooks that make me shudder and quease now as I type.)

The pity that Christmas Limas do not retain their gorgeous color and mottling as they cook is replaced by the pleasure of their rich flavor.
Indeed, they have a layer of chestnuttiness…..

You could make this recipe more elaborate, with the addition of something meaty, like mushrooms, pancetta, or spicy chorizo—but there is enough serious-goodness inherent in this already very meaty bean. Keeping it simple best showcases that.

Thanks and shoutouts to foodblogging sisters rachel and claudia for sharing great information and sparking inspiration.

Christmas (Chestnut) Lima Bean Soup
2 T. Olive Oil
1 large Onion, diced
3 fat cloves of Garlic, minced
1 piece of red (or orange) sweet bell pepper, small dice
Sea Salt (about 1 t.)
Black Pepper (scattering of cracked )
Red Pepper Flakes almost 1/4 t.–could be as little as a pinch
1 cup Christmas Lima Beans
4 cups vegetable stock, or water, or combination

The night before: place one cup limas into a pot and cover with filtered water. Limas will more than double in size. Drain, but reserve soaking liquid.

The day of:
In a deep saucepot, saute onions, pepper, and garlic in olive oil until the onions are translucent, with edges beginning to brown. Season with salt, black pepper, and red pepper flakes. Stir in drained limas, then add reserved liquid, then stock/water. Stir well and bring to just under a boil—a rolling simmer. Let this cook along uncovered for about two hours, stirring occasionally. The limas will soften, yield creaminess, giving this soup a thick velvet texture. As the beans cook, the liquid can get very thick. But, it’s so forgiving; if you want it thinner, just stir in some more water.

Makes 4 servings.

Simple elements form the base: garlic, onion, sweet pepper. This is what I had on hand. A little chopped leek or celery would be nice, if you’ve got it.

Letting the beans roll around in the saute before adding liquid is a very good idea.

I am crazy about this color.
For a heartier meal, serve over rice, garnish with arugula.

I like to place a clump of arugula on top of the rice, and then spoon the Christmas Limas over—collapsing the greens. Delicious.

One potato, two potato, three potato, four….bushels!

These days, everyone’s CSA share baskets are spud-loaded.
Baby yukon golds, fingerlings, heirloom purple caribes, butte russets…

Even our own easement guerrilla garden experiment with sprouted eyes has been productive. As the vines die back, I’ve been digging and unearthing a surprising number of red new potatoes, most the size of a golf ball, and a few the size of my fist. Miraculous, I tell you.

With all these potatoes comes the need for new recipes. And while these tubers will keep for a spell in a cool place, they are also meant to be enjoyed now!

This French Roasted Potato Salad is delicious, healthy, and simple; the pommery vinaigrette makes it. We teach this recipe in our teen cooking camp as part of a menu that includes marinated grilled flank steak and asparagus salad with lemon aioli. It’s one that’s well-loved by adults and kids alike.

The salad is tasty whether it’s served warm or room temperature. And, unlike mayo-based versions, there are no worries about the dish sitting out too long, going out of temperature, and forming enough toxins to do in your father’s side of the family at the reunion.

Take it to the picnic fearlessly.

>

French Roasted Potato Salad
2-3 lbs New Potatoes, cleaned, dried, and cut into medium thick slices
(or try another potato–white, yukon gold, fingerling, or a variety)
1 medium Onion, sliced
Olive Oil
Sea Salt
Black Pepper
fresh Rosemary–a few sprigs
1 cup pommery vinaigrette (recipe below)
1/2 cup chopped fresh Italian Parsley
1 bunch Scallions, chopped

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Place sliced potatoes and onions on a roasting pan and toss with olive oil until all is well coated. Sprinkle with sea salt, black pepper, and chopped fresh rosemary. Roast until browned, about 25-30 minutes. With a slotted spoon, remove the potatoes and onions and place into a mixing bowl. Pour the pommery vinaigrette right onto the roasting pan, scraping up the browned bits and pieces of onion and potatoes as the vinaigrette deglazes the pan. Pour over the potatoes and toss well. Taste and adjust seasoning. Garnish with chopped fresh Italian parsley and scallions. Serve warm or room temperature.

Serves 10-12

Pommery Vinaigrette

¼ cup Red Wine Vinegar
1 Tablespoon Coarse Grain (pommery) Mustard
1 clove minced garlic
½ teaspoon Salt
¼ teaspoon coarse grain black Pepper
Pinch sugar
½ cup Extra Virgin Olive Oil

Sometime in the mid ’90’s, in what now seems like the way-back machine in terms of the life and times of our Nashville Farmers Market, it wasn’t so easy to find the best homegrown tomatoes. The plethora of vibrant heirlooms had not arrived on our agri-scene. You could count on Smileys’ Farm for Bradleys. The Howells had Beefsteaks. From time to time, smaller vendors would show up with their garden varieties and set up stands in the back market shed.

There, we discovered that the tastiest tomatoes also happened to be the ugliest. This we gleaned from one vendor–a gentleman with a shock of white hair and twinkly blue eyes who hawked his malformed “maters” along with his chow-chow and pepper sauces.

“Over here we got the best for the best price,” you’d hear his voice carry across the market shed. “Not a pretty face, but got a pretty taste. Come get your Catface tomatoes.”

Who could resist that call? You’d have to check it out…

He had quite the homely collection of reds: gnarled, scarred, with strange protuberances, overall resembling more the other end of the cat. But, the price was right; our man was convincing. We took a chance on a box of catface tomatoes.

Our white-haired friend explained that the “catfacing” happened early on in the development of the fruit—something about cooler temperature and watering issues—and that the later fruits of the plant “grew proper.”

“Even if they don’t look it, they still have the flavor.”

Oh yes. Those wonky catface tomatoes had an intense acid-candy sweetness. For catering purposes, we couldn’t use them on trays of caprese, for instance. But brushed with olive oil, roasted with onion, garlic, and a few sprigs of thyme, they made a chunky sauce that was moanin’-good.

These days, I don’t hear about the catfaces. All the odd-formed tomatoes are lumped together and sold under that all-encompassing term “culls.” Tally and John of Fresh Harvest Co-op have a considerable number of these less than perfect appearing fruits, offered for half the price of their primos. Such a deal!

Throughout the season, I ‘ll buy a lot of these culls, roast them, and freeze the sauce in tupperware containers. The roasted tomatoes freeze beautifully. They keep that taste of summer and will provide real solace during the winter drear. Tally asked me to post my recipe and remind us all that it’s a good idea to get our favorite tomatoes now and throughout the season to put up–one way or another—-while they are available. Who knows what twists and turns the summer weather will take?

Another reminder: Roasting is easy, but this year I will learn to can. I’m told it’s easy too. There’s only just so much freezer space….
More on that later!

These are ready to oven roast.

Post-roasting, the skins practically come off by themselves.

Keep some sauce in jars to refrigerate and use within a few days. Freeze the remainder.

Chunky Roasted Tomato Sauce
5 lbs. Tomatoes
1 medium Onion
4-6 cloves Garlic
Olive Oil
a few sprigs of fresh Thyme
Sea Salt
Coarse Ground Black Pepper

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Core tomatoes and cut in half, placing the flat surface down onto a roasting pan. Cut an onion into sixths or eighths and place around the tomatoes. Scatter the garlic cloves and sprigs of thyme. Drizzle or brush the vegetables with olive oil, then salt and pepper them. Roast for about 25 minutes, until tomatoes skins wrinkle and blister.
Cool, and then remove the tomato skins. (They slip off easily.) Chop large pieces and pack into containers to freeze. Or toss over some capellini and dust with a little parmesan! Makes 2 qts.

It was the desire for more color that took an already delicious pasta dish to a higher level.

Unexpected!

I was to prepare a large batch of linguine tossed with sauteed Swiss chard, pine nuts, golden raisins, and red pepper flakes, always a favorite for its healthy dose of green things in pasta, with a little sweet-and-heat.
It was one of several dishes I cooked recently for a local dinner held at Kipp Crusa and Tallahassee May’s farm.

Tally either grew or gathered all the lush produce for the meal. When she delivered the locally grown goodies to my home, she brought in a sack bulging with chard: long white stems with large dark green leaves that resembled ceremonial fans for an Egyptian deity. Fabulous.

And yet, she lamented the lack of Rainbow Chard, a variety loved for its brilliant, almost iridescent yellow, pink, and purple stems. “I hope you don’t mind, but I brought you some beets.”

Mind? No, never would I mind such a thing.

The beet greens and chard cooked beautifully together, the beet’s magenta stem and veined leaves providing a lively color burst. And, a little more. In contrast to the supple chard, the beets added an assertive, earthy bite to this rustic dish.

Pasta-wise, I have typically made this with whole wheat linguine. For Tally’s dinner, I chose to continue the mix-up by using whole wheat, regular, and spinach linguine—a blend sometimes referred to as “Straw and Hay.”

This is a discovery worth repeating—-and sharing.

Today, I’ve got small quantities of Swiss chard and Red Russian Kale harvested from my urban farmette, plus a few spring onions grown tall and fat from all our rain. I’ll toss in the leaves from a beet bunch in my fridge–in short order, this festive straw and hay will be ready to enjoy for dinner! The remaining beets will turn up in the next day or two in a salad or side dish.

Color begins releasing when you saute the stems with spring onions.

The greens like to swim in the stock.

Greens, Straw and Hay
3-4 T. Olive Oil
3 Spring Onions, chopped-use both white and green parts
1 bunch Swiss Chard, Beet Greens, Red Russian Kale (any or all in combination)
cleaned, dried, destemmed:chop stems like celery and set aside; coarsely chop leaves
You’ll have 2 heaping cups of chopped leaves.
1 t. Sea Salt
1/4 t. Red Pepper Flakes
1 cup Vegetable Stock
1/4 cup Golden Raisins
1/4 cup Pine Nuts

Pasta Assortment: use about 2 oz. of each (6 oz. total)
Linguine, Spinach Fettuccine, Whole Wheat Capellini

Heat a large skillet, add olive oil. Sauté spring onions and the chopped stems from your selection of greens on medium heat for 5-7 minutes. Sprinkle with sea salt and red pepper flakes. Stir in coarsely chopped leaf greens and sauté for another 2 minutes. Pour in vegetable stock and stir well. Leaves will collapse. Add golden raisins and toasted pine nuts. Toss throughout the mixture. Set aside.

Bring a 4-5 qt. pot of lightly salted water to a boil. Cook your sturdier pasta first: follow package directions. Whole wheat linguine takes 10 minutes, regular takes 7-8. Do a little math, and figure the timing so that you can add the second pasta after 2 minutes so that all is done at the same time. Drain, and reserve 1 cup liquid.

Gently toss pastas with sauteed greens, insuring a good distribution of all the elements throughout. If the mixture doesn’t seem wet enough, add a little of the reserved pasta water.

You may want to grate a little parmegiano-regianno over the top, if you like. It is delicious, of course. But there’s enough good flavors–and textures—in this dish that you may not want to.

Serves 2 as main dishes or 4 as first course.

A tangle of flavor and color…

Use what you’ve got.

Sometimes you don’t have what is called for, but chances are you’ve got something else that would serve just as well.

Call it an adage or philosophy–this way of thinking brings together creativity, practicality, and economy, and can be most useful in problem solving. I had to remind myself of this when it came time to prepare for a cooking demonstration for this year’s Earth Day Celebration.

I had been asked to feature things that I’ve been growing in my tiny urban farmette. Figuring I’d have an abundance of mesclun, scallions, garlic, fresh herbs, I had envisioned presenting a variety of vinaigrettes, tossing them on the myriad greens, passing out samples of sumptuous salads.

But, Mother Nature and my seeds did not cooperate with this vision. Our burst of warmth in late February-early March gave way to cooler temperatures and wetter weather. My seedlings, which eagerly sprouted up in my window box greenhouse, remained inert, post-transplant.

They stood in the ground, I believe, and shivered.

It was plain in my two-days-before-the-event assessment that I would have plenty of chives and Italian parsley, but only four scallions of size and a handful of petite greens—slim pickings for a food demo and tasting.

Time to play my “what’s-in-the-pantry game”; surely it held some wonderful things to pair with my local garden offerings.
And, indeed there were: I found quite the assortment of white beans and peas, all in almost-empty bags and boxes.
Time to put these dribs and drabs to good use.

I chose black-eyed peas, yellow-eyed peas, navy beans, great northern beans, baby limas and flageolets—visually, a pleasing look—variants of white—and all similarly sized to throw into the pot together. In my fridge, I had celery, carrots, and an orange.
An idea began to form:
A light, nutritious white bean medley salad, with crunchy bits of celery, carrot, and scallion, dressed in a refreshing vinaigrette of orange, Italian parsley, and chives.

It was well-enjoyed by the Earth Day cooking demo attendees, but because our intention was to not use paper at the festival, I had no recipe cards to share.
So, here for all of you who kindly attended and all of you, dear readers, is the appropriately renamed for its use-what-you’ve-got sensibility:
my Earth Day Salad.

White Bean Medley
1 cup assorted White Beans and Peas
2 T. Olive Oil
1 medium Onion, small dice
3 cloves Garlic, minced
¼ teaspoon Salt
pinch Red Pepper flakes
1 Bay Leaf

Soak the beans and peas for at least four hours. Rinse.
Heat a 2 quart saucepan. Add olive oil. Sauté onions until translucent, about 2 minutes. Add garlic, salt, and red pepper flakes. Continue sautéing for another 2 minutes. Add beans/peas, stirring so that all are coated. Add 4 cups water. Stir. Cover and cook on medium heart for at least one hour, stirring occasionally. Add more liquid if necessary.
Remove from liquid and cool. Remove bay leaf. Taste for seasoning.

Orange-Herb Vinaigrette

6 Tablespoons Olive Oil
1 heaping Tablespoon Orange Zest
¼ teaspoon Salt (or more, to taste)
a few grindings of fresh cracked Black Pepper
pinch Red Pepper flakes
1 Tabelspoon Orange Juice
2 Tablespoons White Balsamic Vinegar
1 heaping Tablespoon Italian Parsley, chopped
4-6 sprigs Garlic Chives, or Chives, snipped into small pieces

Start with the olive oil in the bottom of the salad bowl. Add the zest and allow to infuse for a few minutes. Then add salt, black and red peppers, orange juice, vinegar, parsley, and chives. Stir together well, and then proceed to the next step:
Creating the Salad
3 large Scallions, including green tops, chopped
3 ribs and leaves Celery, finely chopped
3 Carrots, finely chopped
cooked Bean-Pea Medley
4-6 pieces Red leaf lettuce, coarse chiffonade

Add carrots, celery, and scallions to the salad bowl. Stir so that all the ingredients are well coated.
Next, add the bean-pea medley. Fold these into the mixture, again so that everything is well coated with the vinaigrette. Fold gently so you don’t break up the beans. Finally, fold in the shreds of lettuce.
Taste for seasonings–adjust for salt, top with a little more zest and black pepper.
Serves 8

Cooks Notes:
Serve the salad room temperature. The longer it sits in the vinaigrette, the more pronounced the fresh flavors become.
The salad is vegan, but lends itself readily to other ingredients.
Try adding these:
Soft Goat Cheese
Crumbled Feta
Toasted Walnuts or Pinenuts