Fabulous Grains

I regularly freeze leftover cooked grains. They are simple to defrost and use in casseroles or other mixed dishes.

The other day I made an excellent dish with defrosted wheat berries and red quinoa, leftover tomato sauce, and a sprinkling of grated cheddar.

I told Larry what it was while it was cooking, so he wouldn't be hoping for lasagna - the aromas are similar. We both enjoyed it, and found the flavors even better the next day as reheated leftovers.

I spread about 3 cups of the leftover grain in the bottom of a casserole dish, so it was about 2 inches deep. I could have used leftover brown rice or millet, or any grain I had on hand. Then I spread my zesty tomato sauce over top, about 1/4 inch or so, and then a sprinkling of grated cheddar. I put the lid on the casserole, and baked it at 350°F for about 40 minutes until it was heated through and the flavors were melded.

In the meantime, I cooked up a batch of kohlrabi greens. I sautéed half an onion and a clove of garlic in a little olive oil. I washed the greens and chopped them coarsely, stems and all. I tossed them in the pot, stirred in a sprinkle of salt and pepper and red chile flakes, and put the lid on. I stirred every five minutes or so, making sure they didn't stick on the bottom. The greens cooked down to a delicious spicy pottage.

The greens and grains combined to make a healthy and delicious dinner, perfect for a cool winter evening.

Grapes of Wrath

I just finished reading John Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath.

It's the story of depression era farmworkers forced off the land by drought and industrial revolution in Oklahoma, and how they struggle to find a better life in California.

It made me mad.

This is Steinbeck's description of the landowners explaining to the tenant farmers that they're kicking them off the land they've worked all their lives because more profits can be made using tractors instead of human labor.

The drought was already a problem, so yields were down in the fields.

The bank - the monster has to have profits all the time. It can't wait. It'll die. No taxes go on. When the monster stops growing, it dies. It can't stay one size.

Because the bank needs larger profits, the tenant system won't work any more, the owners say. One man on a tractor can take the place of 12 or 14 families. Pay him a wage and take all the crop.

It's not us, it's the bank. A bank isn't like a man. Or an owner with fifty thousand acres, he isn't like a man either. That's the monster.

The tenant farmers say they were born and died and worked on the land which makes it theirs.

We're sorry. It's not us. It's the monster. The bank isn't like a man.

Yes, but the bank is only made of men.

No, you're wrong there - quite wrong there. The bank is something else than men. It happens that every man in a bank hates what the bank does, and yet the bank does it. The bank is something more than men, I tell you. It's the monster. Men made it, but they can't control it.

Some things never change.

Fingerling Potatoes

My local independent grocery store has started stocking organic fingerling potatoes.

They are our latest favorite food.

I scrub them, toss them with olive oil and salt and pepper, and roast them at 400°F for 20-30 minutes, until they are fork tender.

Fabulous.

If I want to go really wild, I sprinkle some nutty gruyere over them and put them back in the oven until the cheese is melted.

I serve them with wilted greens for a simple supper, or with fried eggs for Sunday brunch.

Purity Organics is selling these potatoes in plastic bags. Ask your produce manager to stock them. Then you can be addicted too.

Stocking the Freezer

I reached into the freezer for vegetable stock the other day, and realized my stash was low. In fact, I was holding the last container in my hand.

That was not a good state of affairs. A good vegetable stock is crucial to delicious vegetarian soups and stews. (Larry finds it essential to his beef stew, too.)

So I spent three days this week re-stocking the freezer.

Three days in a row, I made stock in my slow cooker. 18 cups in all have been packed in one- and two-cup containers, labeled and frozen.

I've posted my favorite stock recipe before. You can read it here.

Although the parsnip is optional, I highly recommend it if you can find it. The stock won't taste like parsnip, but it will have an extra depth of flavor.

Now my freezer is packed with stock, and I feel like a contented squirrel knowing he has a stash of nuts to get him through the winter.

Red Sauce for Valentine's Day

Last year I served Larry tofu on Valentine's Day. You can read about it here.

This year I thought to ask Larry what he'd like to eat on Valentine's Day. He requested spaghetti with tomato sauce. That sounded fun, and heart-healthy.

Then on Friday night, Larry's brother told me about their mother's homemade tomato sauce. He remembers it bubbling on the stove for more than an hour as it cooked. Unfortunately she did not pass on the recipe.

Most tomato sauces include sugar (check the ingredients in the jar of sauce in your cupboard). Since I prefer my sugar in dessert, I used balsamic vinegar instead to tame the tomatoes. I used Muir Glen organic tomatoes - they have great flavor, and their tins are now bpa-free - and I bought fresh basil at the hydroponic stall at the Hollywood Farmers Market.

The sauce was red and thick and tangy. It was great for mopping up with pungent garlic bread. And I served it with lacinato kale which I had sautéed in garlic and enough chiles to give it a kick. We ended the meal with lemon creme brulée - tart and creamy with a crunch from the sugar topping. It was not a meal for the faint of heart.

Tomato Sauce
1 tbsp olive oil
1 clove garlic, chopped
1 small onion, chopped
14-oz can tomato sauce
14-oz can diced tomatoes
6-oz can tomato paste
1 tsp salt
1 tsp chile flakes
2 tbsp chopped fresh basil
1 tsp balsamic vinegar

Gently sauté the garlic and onion in the olive oil until soft but not brown.

Stir in the tomato sauce, diced tomatoes, and tomato paste. Bring to a simmer.

Stir in the salt, chile flakes, basil and balsamic vinegar. Cook, covered, over low heat, stirring every 10 minutes or so. It will take about an hour for the flavors to meld. Warning - this sauce splatters everywhere. Keep the lid on, and be careful when you stir.

Makes enough for four good servings of spaghetti.

Market Shopping

The stalls at the Hollywood Farmers Market were bursting with colorful winter greens this morning.

I showed great restraint amidst all that abundance.

Here's what we came home with:

1 bunch lacinato kale
1 bunch turnips with greens attached
1 bunch rutabagas (with greens destined for the compost)
1 bunch carrots (ditto)
1 bunch collard greens
2 bunches baby kohlrabi (1 for Tracie)
1 red butter lettuce
1 bunch red russian kale
3 yellow onions
1 red onion
1 bunch basil
2 heads garlic
2 cute little winter squash
blueberries
9 grapefruit
feta
St. Benoit yogurt

Nettle Noodles

Nettles are full of minerals and essential nutrients. They are a boon for the hair, skin, and nails. They nourish the kidneys and adrenals, help balance blood sugar, and are generally a great healing herb.

Unfortunately, they also have stingers, little hairs that cause irritation and sometimes even a small blister when you touch them.

I avoid the stings and get the benefits of nettles by infusing the dried herb (1 oz of dried nettles in 1 quart boiling water, let sit overnight, strain and drink).

But the other day Flora Bella had fresh nettles at their stand. I could not resist buying a bunch.

My mother told me of picking and cooking wild nettles - she said they tasted like wet flannel. But I was not to be deterred. I changed the texture of the leaves - and removed flannel overtones - by puréeing them. But green mush is not appealing either. So I made it into noodles, using the nettles in place of the spinach in a standard spinach pasta recipe.

The result was beautiful green noodles. They did not taste of nettles, nor did they sting as we ate them. We could almost tell ourselves we were eating health food.

The secret to not getting stung by fresh nettles is to grasp them firmly. I got only one sting, and it faded by the next day.

And now I've conquered my fear of nettles, next time I see them I'll try them in soup - but I'll make sure to blanch and purée them first.

Nettle Noodles
1 cup nettle leaves
2 tsp olive oil
2 tsp cold water
1 egg
1 cup flour

Cook the nettles in boiling water for 2 minutes until soft and tender. Drain and press out the water.

Purée them in the food processor. Add the olive oil and water and purée again. Add the egg and pulse it in a couple of times. Then add half the flour, process for a few seconds, then add the remaining flour and process until it forms a ball. (Sprinkle with a very little water if it won't come together. The liquid needed will depend on how well you drained your nettles.)

Turn the dough onto a floured surface and knead a few times. (You won't get stung.) Form a ball of the dough, cover it with an upside-down bowl, and let it stand 45 minutes.

Roll the dough into a large thin rectangle, approximately 12x16 inches. Let it air-dry for an hour until the surface is not sticky.

Roll it up loosely like a jelly-roll, and slice it into 1/2 inch thick noodles. Unroll the noodles and cook in a big pot of boiling salted water until just cooked, about 3-4 minutes. Drain and serve with your favorite sauce, or with a little olive oil and grated parmesan.

Serves 2

Collard Greens

Larry says collards are his favorite greens.

I think it's because they are soft and not as bitter as some other greens. Sautéed with a little garlic, they are a satisfying side dish.

We bought especially young and tender collard greens at the Hollywood Farmers Market on Sunday. I served them with leftover chili and cheese-y toast.

Cooked this way, the greens keep some of their shape and texture. You could use this same technique with any other tender green.

Collard Greens
1 bunch collard greens (about 3/4 lb)
1 tbsp olive oil
3 cloves garlic

Wash the greens and cut off the very thick or woody stems. Roll a few leaves at a time like a cigar and slice them across in 1/4 inch strips (chiffonade).

Warm the olive oil over medium heat. Peel and coarsely chop the garlic, add it to the oil, and cook 30 seconds until lightly golden. Stir in the sliced collard greens, sprinkle with a little salt and a couple of tablespoons of water. Stir and cover. Let it cook for about 2 minutes.

Season to taste with salt and pepper, and serve.

Serves 2-3