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Showing posts with label turnip. Show all posts
Showing posts with label turnip. Show all posts

Gumbo z’Herbes with Fried Oysters

The first time I made gumbo, I remember wondering if there was such thing as a vegetarian version. Years later I learned that, yes, there is actually a tradition of a vegetarian gumbo. It’s called Gumbo z’Herbes or Green Gumbo. It’s less common than meat- and seafood-filled gumbos, but it came about as a type of gumbo to serve during Lent or specifically on Good Friday. I’d been thinking about making this while local greens are in season, and I finally did it, fittingly during Lent. This is more of a soup than thicker gumbos, and it’s filled with whatever greens you have on hand, herbs, green onions, and in this case, chopped turnips. The recipe I followed is from Crescent City Cooking by Susan Spicer, and every time I use this book I find more dishes from it that I need to try. I liked that she gilded the dish a bit with the addition of fried oysters. And, why not? You wouldn’t want to serve a gumbo that’s entirely virtuous, right? Naturally, it starts with the trinity of vegetables which includes onion, celery, and green bell peppers. And, this is where things get scandalous. I prefer just about any other possible color of bell pepper to green. Here, I used a mix of green and orange, and I don’t feel too guilty about it. Chef John Besh recommends red bell pepper for his etouffee; so I’m not alone in this. Now, for the turnips, I was hoping it wasn’t too late in the season to find some at the farmers’ market, and luck was on my side. At our Wednesday market, I found the cutest, little white, Japanese turnips grown by Animal Farm. The flavor is mild and lovely, and they were perfect for the gumbo. 

Although this is a Lenten, vegetable-based kind of gumbo, the recipe does call for chicken stock. I made some vegetable stock to use instead. To begin, you need to make a roux in a wide, heavy pan like a Dutch oven, and making roux is one of those cooking-related tasks that I really enjoy. I love watching the color slowly transform from beige to brown while stirring and stirring. For this recipe, the roux was taken to a peanut butter color. At that point, the trinity of finely chopped onion, celery, and bell pepper was added. Next, finely chopped garlic, those lovely little chopped turnips, and some chopped green onions were added and allowed to cook for about five minutes. For the greens, I used washed and torn kale leaves and spinach leaves along with the leaves from the turnips. All the greens nearly overflowed from the pan, but they cook down in no time. Once the greens were wilted, thyme leaves and file powder were added followed by the vegetable stock. The stock was added slowly, brought to a boil, and reduced to a simmer. A bouquet garni of parsley stems, a bay leaf, and thyme sprigs was added to the stock, and it was left to cook for an hour. If you’re making the fried oysters, the oyster liquor can be added, and Worcestershire sauce is suggested for seasoning as well. To make the oysters, they were first dusted with cornmeal and then quickly fried just until golden. The oysters I brought home for this were tiny, so they only cooked in the hot oil for about two minutes. The gumbo was served with white rice, the fried oysters, some extra chopped green onions, and hot sauce on the side. 

I now know that regardless of the main ingredient in a gumbo, it’s always a fun and delicious dish. The trinity cooked in a brown roux never fails, and I never get enough of liberally dousing a gumbo with Crystal hot sauce. The greens and turnips cooked to a completely tender state and took on the flavors of the herbs and aromatics. I still love a good seafood gumbo, but I think this vegetable version, with or without the oysters, deserves more attention than it gets. 

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The Ultimate Winter Couscous

I had a couple of little butternut squashes that I’d been neglecting, and a turnip collection sat hopeful but lonely in the vegetable bin. It was time to find a good winter dish where they’d be put to use. That didn’t take long once I grabbed my copy of Plenty. The recipe really is called the ultimate winter couscous, but I don’t think that means you have to stick to it too precisely. You could use any type of winter squash, and turnips weren’t even mentioned in the ingredient list, but I was sure they’d be fine. What was in that list was carrots, parsnips, shallots, dried apricots, chickpeas, chopped preserved lemon, harissa, and lots of spices. The vegetables were to be roasted until tender and sweet, and I could imagine the smell of the spices filling the kitchen before the oven was even warmed. I think this is the ultimate winter dish because it really couldn’t go wrong. It was full of warm spice flavors, sweet roasted charm, and perky acidity and heat.

First, big chunks of all the vegetables needed to be roasted, and I used carrots, parsnips, turnips, and butternut squash. Shallots were added to the roasting pan along with cinnamon sticks, star anise, bay leaves, ground ginger, ground turmeric, hot paprika, chile flakes, olive oil, and salt. After roasting for a bit, chopped dried apricots, chickpeas, and a little water were added to the pan. Just before the vegetables were ready, couscous was added to boiling water with saffron and olive oil. After the couscous had absorbed the water, butter was added, and the couscous was mixed and fluffed. When the roasting pan was removed from the oven, a big spoonful of harissa and some chopped preserved lemon rind were stirred into the vegetables. The couscous was served topped with the roasted vegetables and some chopped cilantro leaves.

This was such a fragrant dish, and it hit on just about every flavor you can name. The preserved lemon added little sparks of brightness here and there while the cilantro brought some fresh herbiness. The flavors of all the vegetables had become sweeter and more intense from roasting, and the spices permeated each bite. This was an ultimate winter dish, and I’ll remember it next time my butternut squash or turnips or parsnips are feeling overlooked.


Sourdough Corn Bread Bowls with Winter Vegetable Chowder

My sourdough starter just turned one year old. I’m proud of everything it did in that first year, but I think it can do a lot more. Out of fear, I stuck pretty closely to the Breads from the La Brea Bakery book all year since that’s where it all started. I followed the instructions in that book for making the starter, and I’ve only used that book for baking bread. It hasn’t failed me yet. I’ve made the bagels several times, and just this morning I was branching out by adjusting that recipe to include some whole grains. But, now that a whole year has gone by, I’m ready to start attempting some other sourdough breads. When I saw these sourdough corn bread bowls at Wild Yeast, they went to the top of my list. I loved the idea of cornmeal and corn flour used with sourdough, and a bread bowl for a winter soup was perfect. I followed Susan’s instructions carefully, and everything went fine. I think it’s going to be fun to keep trying new and different sourdough recipes. For the soup, I had a hearty vegetable chowder in mind, and I found just the thing I wanted in Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone.

The sourdough corn bread was a breeze to mix. I combined bread flour, corn flour, coarse corn meal, water, salt, a little butter, and sourdough starter in the bowl of a mixer and let the dough hook do the work. The dough was transferred to an oiled bowl where it fermented for two and a half hours. It was then divided into six pieces which were left to rest for 30 minutes. Then each of those pieces was placed in a soup bowl, covered, and refrigerated until I was ready to bake. I let the dough come to room temperature while the oven pre-heated. Just before sliding the little loaves into the oven, they were slashed around the tops. The oven was spritzed, and I placed the loaves directly on a baking stone. The circular slash on each loaf made a good cut line for removing the tops and turning them into soup bowls.

The soup was even easier to prepare. First, parsley, thyme, bay leaves, sliced onion, peppercorns, and juniper berries were steeped in milk that was brought to a boil. That was covered and set aside while chopped leeks, carrots, turnips, rutabaga, celery, and potatoes were cooked in melted butter. After about 10 minutes, flour was stirred into the cooked vegetables, and then water was added. That was left to simmer for 25 minutes. Last, the milk was poured through a strainer into the soup, and seasoning was checked and adjusted.

A simple meal of bread and soup with some great cheese and olives seemed like a feast. The cornmeal and corn flour brought a little sweetness to the bread, and the crunchy crust gave way to a chewy, tasty, light yellow interior. The soup was a showcase of fresh, local, winter vegetables that was thickened just enough from the flour, starch from the potatoes, and the milk. As the soup disappeared in the bowl, it was easy to drag your spoon across the inner surface and bring bits of bread through the remaining chowder. Even better than that was pulling the bowl apart and eating the whole thing.

I’m submitting this to Yeastspotting where you’ll find some seriously well-made bread.


Roasted Vegetables with a Maple Balsamic Glaze

I’m not planning a Thanksgiving menu this year, and coming to think of it, it’s been a few years since I did. We hosted friends and family for the big meal for several years in row, but then got into the habit of traveling for the last few Thanksgivings. I actually really like putting together a menu for such a feast, so I may have to plan on being at home next year. When I do plan the menu, I like to include at least one dish that is completely simple and that highlights the quality of some fresh vegetables. This roasted vegetable dish fits that description. I used perfectly fresh carrots, turnips, and beets from my CSA, and roasting them alone gives them incredible flavor. I upped that flavor just a bit with a quick, tangy, sweet glaze.

The carrots were cleaned and peeled, the turnips were chopped into large chunks, and the beets were left whole with skin intact for roasting. I kept each vegetable in its own area of a baking sheet so the color of the beets wouldn’t find its way onto the other items. The vegetables were drizzled with olive and seasoned with salt and pepper, and into a hot oven they went. The roasting time, of course, depends on the size of each vegetable, so start testing for tenderness after 20 minutes or so. The carrots were done first, so I removed them to a platter while the turnips and beets continued roasting. When the turnips were golden and a knife poked into them easily, I added those chunks to the platter with the carrots. I allowed the beets to cool enough to handle and then rubbed off the skins before slicing them. The glaze, for two to four servings, was made with two tablespoons of butter, two tablespoons of pure maple syrup, and one tablespoon of balsamic vinegar. Those three items were placed in a saucepan and stirred until the butter melted. I let it continue to cook for five minutes or so to slightly thicken. Then, it was spooned over the vegetables on the platter.

I like the look of separate piles of each vegetable, so the colors were grouped on the platter. Some butternut squash chunks would have been good here too, and the mix could be as diverse or as simple as you choose. You could even roast the vegetables in advance and then just warm them in the oven before serving. The glaze goes so well with the caramelized roasted vegetables, and it’s so easy to make and worry-free, it’s one of my favorites.


Happy Thanksgiving!