pease porridge

Spinach Falafel with Tahini Sauce

I don't normally deep-fry things.  I don't like wasting the oil, I don't like making a huge mess on my stove, I'm always worried I'll over- or under-cook something, and, not too healthy, is it?  I will, however, make an occasional exception for a few recipes (corn fritters, fried chicken, fried eggplant with honey and sesame seeds) and this is the latest addition to the short list.

The recipe says spinach falafel, but I actually made these with random leftover greens in my refrigerator, which included kale, chard, turnip and beet greens, I think.  I'm happy to say it worked just as well that way.

The veggies on the plate, by the way, are all from the farm.  The cucumbers, especially, are an amazing treat, because they actually taste like something, as opposed to the crunchy water of the supermarket variety.  There's also a shot of the last of the beet tzatziki, which, I know, I promised would come in the future, and it will, but we ate it all up really quickly so you'll have to wait until I make more.

Penne with Pesto, Peas, and (s)Pinach

This pasta started out as just your usual, everyday Weeknight Pasta: take whatever odds and ends you have about your fridge/pantry, toss 'em with a hastily thrown together tomato or cheese sauce or olive oil or however it works out, and some pasta, and that's dinner (kinda like Pantry Soup from a while back).  As it turns out, however, this particular combination is killer, and, should the culinary elements align fortuitously again someday, I would happily serve this as either a first or a main course for company.

What took this dish from ordinary to amazing was the Garlic Scape Pesto, of course, and three types of fresh peas from our farm:

I know I've already raved about the fresh peas, so I'll try to reign myself in, but they are fabulous right now.  We picked snow peas, sugar snap peas, and shell peas, and I threw all of them in.

Honorable mention to the fresh spinach, which soaked up the pesto flavor wonderfully, and the pine nuts, whose richness perfectly complemented the sharp sting of the garlic.

The quick and dirty non-recipe goes like so: Boil salted water for a pound or so of pasta.  Sauté some chopped up shallots in butter.  Add the peas and peapods (we had a handful each of the snap and shell peas, and a good pound and a half-ish of snow peas) and sauté until just green.  Add in several (say about four, maybe) handfuls of spinach and cook until just wilted.  Throw the pasta in the water, and several tablespoons of pesto into the vegetables.  Swirl in a quarter to a half cup of pasta water to thin out the pesto.  When the pasta is done, drain it, reserving some more of the water.  Mix the pasta with the vegetables, and add salt and pepper, and more pesto and/or water as you like it.  Remove from heat and add some toasted pine nuts and grated parmesan cheese.

Are We Green?

This is just a weeknight dinner.  Noodles in a spicy peanut sauce topped with stir-fried green vegetables.  Nothing to see here.

Except that the vegetables in question are from our farm, and the dish turned out to be better than it ought by far because of their amazing freshness.  Words like crisp, buttery, green come to mind, but they don't nearly do justice to the difference between ordinary supermarket snow peas and fresh-picked ones.

Pappardelle with Grecian Tomato Sauce

I take tomato sauce fairly seriously.  Yes, I do call it sauce; gravy is something you make at Thanksgiving.  I use fresh tomatoes when I can get them, but since that's a small window around here I usually am stuck with canned. 

Like many enthusiasts I have fierce canned-tomato brand-loyalty; I use Muir Glen exclusively, because they're a. organic and b. delicious.  When they're on sale, I buy a case.

This tomato sauce is pretty damn divergent from your typical red stuff (which, don't get me wrong, I love).  It's bright and bold, like all my favorite sauces, but because it's got honey and red wine, it's got a sweet and sour thing going on as well, and because it's got cinnamon and mint, it's got both earthy/spicy and fresh components.  It's well-rounded, in other words, with the bonus of being somewhat familiar to your taste buds, and yet also different and new.

You can serve this sauce over pasta, like I've done, but it would probably also be great with meat, or even a meaty fish like tuna.  The pappardelle shown here was a gift from my aunt, who got it in Providence's Italian section (well, really just a street), and it was really well done; I generally don't notice too much of a difference between one dried pasta brand and another, but this was definitely a distinct improvement.  Pappardelle, by the way, is from the Italian pappare, 'to gobble up'.

Caramelized-Leek and Celery Tart Part 2: The Filling

My brother, the actual trained culinary professional in the family, says that celery is unfairly overlooked in a lot of kitchens.  Apart from ants on a log and sauté bases, celery doesn't often get much play; speaking as someone who often substitutes fennel in recipes that call for celery, I suppose I'm guilty myself.

This tart hopefully makes up for that a little bit.  It's chock-full of celery-goodness, and the crunchy celery is a great foil for the sweet, almost creamy caramelized leeks.  Some ground ginger and grainy mustard give it a little spice, and eggs and cream bind it all together.

I've served this tart as a first course, but it would also make a good family dinner.  The recipe is from Once Upon a Tart, and it's based on a classic Belgian leek tart called a flamiche.

Cheese, Onion and (Sweet) Potato Pie

Now, just because I was down on her brownies, don't think that I don't occasionally enjoy a Nigella Lawson recipe.  She's usually good, if often extremely British and occasionally a bit silly.

I made these in a muffin tin, because I don't have little tiny pie plates (or "Yorkshire pudding pans", whatever they are), and I used half Yukon Gold potatoes and half sweet potatoes, because that's what I had on hand, and also because I happen to like sweet potatoes. 

These are the kind of simple, home-y little dish that it turns out everybody just loves.  They're also really easy to whip up for a quick weeknight supper.  By which I mean: what are you waiting for?

Mkomazi Cardamom-Mashed Sweet Potatoes with Pepper Relish (and Faux-Injera)

Unlike normal people, I rarely find myself acquiring cookbooks by just going to a book store and buying them.  Sometimes people buy them for me as gifts, quite a few I've gotten through a catalog service that gives you six for a penny and then you only have to buy two more, especially since I always forget to send in the card that tells them not to send you this month's selection.  Fortunately for me, most of these accidental cookbooks have been good, and the food has justified the forgetfulness.

World Food Café: Global Vegetian Cooking, by Chris and Carolyn Caldicott, made its way into my kitchen by way of our local library's book sale, which always has a few fantastic finds if you get there early enough.  No one in our nuclear family is a vegetarian (although my mom is, and my husband used to be) but we do love the veggies, and we don't go around feeling deprived if there's no meat in the center of the plate.

This dish makes its way into the book via a camp cook in the Mkomazi Game Reserve in Tanzania.  The authors note: Gathering the ingredients took about half an hour; sitting around in the bar meeting all his friends over several beers took the rest of the afternoon.

Even though it's not strictly required, I always make the sweet potatoes and the pepper relish together; the sweet potatoes are rich and sweet, and the pepper relish is spicy and tangy and they complement each other perfectly.  The faux-injera (faux because the recipe I usually make is hardly authentic; injera is an Ethiopian flat-bread) is my own addition, just because I love it and I'll take any excuse to make it.  Plus, who doesn't love eating with their hands?