AAA

My version of AAA is of absolutely no help if, as my mother warns, “You’re out late at night, in the middle of nowhere and your car breaks down.”

But, I don’t think I’ve ever been out, late at night, in the middle of nowhere.  Because isn’t everywhere somewhere?

My AAA is three of my very favorite vegetables (in alphabetical order):

Artichoke.  I never ate an artichoke until I was in my twenties, at a business dinner.  The wife of the owner ordered one, and gave me a tutorial, and a taste—I loved it at first bite.

The artichoke is a member of the thistle family and has been cultivated and eaten since the time of Homer.  It has some of the highest levels of antioxidants of any vegetable.  It’s high in fiber, vitamin C, folates, and iron.Italy is the largest producer, and consumer in the world.  They also have tons of recipes for them.  But my favorite way to eat them is the first way I had them, and the most classic, simple prep.  I cut off the sharp tips of the leaves, trim the stem, and steam them for 30-40 minutes, or until tender.After it cools I serve each on a platter with a spoon and a small bowl of mayonnaise.  Working from the outside, peel off a leaf, dip in mayo, and scrape the tender meat off with your bottom teeth.  Larger areas of the leaves become edible as you go.

You will eventually uncover the heart.  Using the spoon, scrape off all the inedible hairs, until it is clean.  This is the best part.  Dip it into mayo and enjoy.The second veg is asparagus, another food chock-full of vitamins, minerals, and fiber.

The heart-breaking thing is that the thinking of many people, even food professionals is utterly backward.  Just like Rubens’ models and bank accounts, with asparagus, bigger is much better.An asparagus farmer once confided to me that he’s thrilled that the trend is for pencil-thin, or “baby” asparagus.  Because it gives the inferior product a market.  They taste like grass and almost impossible to prepare without over-cooking.  The desirable stalks are the ones as thick as your thumb. There are undeniably, people out there who don’t like asparagus.  But there’s a chance they’ve only had the tiny straw-like version.  They deserve to know what good asparagus tastes like.  So serve them in the most simple, basic way.

Rinse, then trim the veg by bending each, and letting it show you where to break the end off.  Steam them for 5-7 minutes until they’re still more crisp than tender.  Drizzle melted butter over and salt generously.  Serve immediately.I first encountered my last favorite veg as a child in Puerto Rico where avocado trees are ubiquitous.  The matriarch of life-long family friends the Murphy clan, Momma Cat was about to tuck into one.  I asked for a bite, and she gave me one, but warned, “they’re an acquired taste.”It was the most disgusting thing I’d ever put in my mouth.  It was like a mean-spirited practical joke.  Why, I wondered would anybody eat avocados on purpose?

But wise Momma Cat was right, and I eventually acquired a taste, and then a love for this unlovely platypus of the vegetable world.

Guacamole is wonderful, and I eat it every chance I get.  But I just adore avocados simply peeled, sliced, and salted, or what I call Momma Cat-style.

So, my AAA will not change your tire, or give you a tow in the middle of nowhere.  But as far as I’m concerned, they’re some of the best eating, anywhere.

Thanks for your time.

Alright, I give, it’s spring

They say when you’re drowning there comes a point when you give up fighting, a sense of peace envelops you, and then it’s all over.

And, here in Durham, it’s the beginning of April, so I just need to get over myself and my grudge against Mother Nature, and accept that spring came very early this year, and all the hoping in the world won’t slow it down, so that the dogwoods bloom on my birthday, in the middle of the month—Like.They.Are.Supposed.To.

It ain’t gonna happen.

So, taking the immortal advice of Queen Victoria, I’m going to lie back and think of England—which coincidentally has a much later spring.  I’m giving up the fight and accepting that winter is over, early or not.

Uh….

When it’s sunny and 80 degrees in mid-March, a hearty, slow-cooked meal just doesn’t feel right.  But, despite feeling like late spring, produce hasn’t received the memo and caught up.

So, what’s a diner seeking seasonal fare to do?

A lighter springtime meal this time of year necessitates using a combination of imported fresh, frozen, and if possible, locally grown.

The first thing to do is figure out the flavors that epitomize the season.  You may have different ones in mind, but these are the tastes and colors speak to me.

Vernal chicken en papillottepaper chicken4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts

1 lemon, sliced

8 cloves of garlic, cut into thick slices

2 leeks, cleaned and sliced, white part only

1 tablespoon fresh mint, cut into chiffonade (long thin strips)

4 tablespoons butter

Salt & pepper

4 12X12-inch pieces parchment paper

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.  Crease the paper halfway across.  Lay the chicken in the center of one side of the paper.  Cover each breast with lemon slices.  Sprinkle each with ¼ of the leeks, garlic, and mint.  Place 1 tablespoon butter on the top; then season with salt and pepper.

Fold over the other half of the paper.  Then starting at one end, fold/crimp the paper all around the outside of the package. 

Bake at 375 for 25 minutes.  Place a package on each diner’s plate, allowing them to open the packets at the table.  Serves 4.

Light and sunny pasta saladspring orzoSalad:

6 ounces orzo

6-8 ounces goat cheese (keep in fridge until salad assembly)

1 cup frozen baby peas, thawed

Small bunch of asparagus, the thickest stalks you can find, cut into 1-inch pieces on the bias

1 cup grape tomatoes

2 tablespoon snipped Chinese chives or green onions, thinly sliced on the bias

Baby arugula or pea shoots

Salt & pepper

Dressing:spring dressing2 tablespoons lemon juice

1 teaspoon honey

1/2 teaspoon Dijon mustard

3 to 4 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

Salt & pepper

Whisk together all dressing ingredients until emulsified.  Season, taste, then season again if necessary. 

Assembly: Into a large bowl, place in pasta, peas, asparagus, tomatoes, and chives.    Stir in dressing, leaving out about a tablespoon.  Break off pieces of goat cheese about the size of a thumbnail and gently fold into salad.

To plate: Lightly dress arugula or pea shoots with remaining dressing, being very careful not to over-dress.

Place a small mound of orzo salad onto plate, and top with dressed greens.  Serves 4-6.

Serve the chicken and salad with a piece of fresh baguette, and a cold crisp glass of a Vouvray or a dry Alsatian.  For dessert, I’ve got a fun and easy idea.Take your favorite store-bought biscuits (I’d use Bojangles’ biscuits; but you can use any you like, up to and including canned biscuits) and paint the tops with melted butter.  Sprinkle each with a spoonful of sugar and put under the broiler until it browns and bubbles.

Put 2 cups of frozen and fresh strawberries into a saucepan with a spritz of lemon juice and a couple tablespoons of sugar.  Cook on medium until the berries begin to break down and form a sauce.  Slice each biscuit in half. Fill with strawberries, and top with a dollop of whipped cream—homemade or store-bought.

So, even though the weather and nature’s bounty aren’t quite in sync, we can still eat like it is.  But I still won’t have the dogwood blossoms on my birthday.

Darn it.

You know…that kind of works for me.

Thanks for your time.

 

Kitchen prestidigitation

I’m not sure what will happen.

The Kid no longer eats orzo.  “It’s a texture thing,” my child insists.

I, on the other hand, love the rice-shaped pasta.  It works really well with a light dressing, and smaller pieces of veggies and proteins.  For some reason I equate it to the spring, with lemon, asparagus, and ramps.

By disliking orzo, The Kid has ended up on the horns of a dilemma.  I recently discovered an orzo recipe that will send my spawn into vapors of indecision.

For while the recipe is a one-pot, no strain pasta, which is pretty darn cool, that pasta is orzo, which usually given no love.

The other dilemma that may change everything is the author of the recipe.  It is Melissa D’Arabian, winner of Food Network’s Next Network star.

The year that Melissa competed, we watched every episode, and Melissa caught our eye.   She wasn’t loud or a drama queen, in fact she seemed to have no time for crazy.

What riveted us to the screen was her quiet confidence.

In that she reminded us of JJ Redick.  When he goes up for a shot, in his mind, of course he’ll make it; he’s never missed.  It’s not delusion or ego-driven arrogance, it’s more like a child’s belief in the good in himself—in his mind he’s never missed a basket, so he launches the ball with nothing but complete, untainted optimism.  The “Yips” are incomprehensible to him.  It would be like trying to explain the concept of electrical engineering to a gerbil.

My round ball crush, JJ Redick.

Melissa was like that.  She had knowledge, experience and a stack of awesome, no-fail recipes tall enough to reach the top shelf.  Above all she possessed a quiet form of supreme confidence.  Doubt didn’t seem to be in her vocabulary.

But back to the orzo.  This recipe is like a ski lodge in the summer—it’s very accommodating.  You can add anything to this dish; protein, different types of veg, various nuts.

Petey and I love this, but The Kid has not yet had an opportunity to try it.

Melissa’s Lemon Thyme Orzo (by way of Debbie)

lemon thyme orzoIngredients

2 ½ cups chicken or vegetable stock

½ cup white wine

1 tablespoon olive oil

2-3 garlic cloves, minced

1 cup orzo

½ lemon, zested + 2 tablespoons juice

2 tablespoons fresh chopped thyme leaves

2 teaspoons fresh minced rosemary

1 cup frozen peas

1/3 cup shredded Parmesan

Salt and freshly cracked black pepper

¼-½ cup crumbled crispy bacon (optional)

Pea shoots

Heat large skillet on medium and add olive oil.  Stir in garlic and rosemary.  When fragrant, add orzo and stir constantly until it’s lightly toasted.  Deglaze with wine.  Add stock, and simmer on medium until most of the liquid has been absorbed, stirring occasionally, about 15-20 minutes. Remove from heat, and stir in lemon zest, juice, thyme, peas, and cheese. Season with salt and pepper to taste, top with crispy bacon, a handful of pea shoots, and transfer to a serving bowl.  Serves 4.

Variations (Stir these in at the end of cooking, off the heat):

Instead of peas, use asparagus.  Or roasted broccoli and thinly sliced sun-dried tomatoes.

Drop the peas and add snipped Chinese chives and halved grape tomatoes you’ve blistered in a very hot skillet with 1 teaspoon olive oil.

Nix the pea shoots, and stir in 2 cups raw baby spinach.

Mix in salad shrimp or shredded rotisserie chicken.

Stir soft cheese (like brie or mascarpone) into pasta.

I watch what some people might consider way too much food television (but it’s purely for research purposes).  There are cooks that I love, some that are ok, but not my favorites, and a few that when they appear, I rush to change the channel.  Some hosts are very reliable sources for recipes, with many of their dishes recreated in my kitchen; most were big hits; a few, embarrassing flops.

But a Melissa D’Arabian recipe has never resulted in anything but success, yummy food, and kudos from family.  So much so, that at our house we refer to her as “Magic Melissa”.

Yup, that’s me in the kitchen…

I guess we’ll just have to see if she can cast a spell and make The Kid enjoy orzo.

Thanks for your time.

A spare goose

 

Hey!  I think that kid in the lower left is wearing pajamas.

Go to any schoolyard, and talk to the kids about food likes and dislikes.  You’ll find out that French fries and pizza are big hits.  But my guess is that among the Brussel sprouts, liver and avocado, asparagus will land unequivocally among the top-ten “Ewww, Gross, No way!” list.

I’ve always been a fan.  Even when I was a kid, and asparagus came from a can, I liked those enigmatic green spears.

I don’t think I ever ate or even saw it fresh until I was in my teens.  Then I thought myself quite the gourmand to purchase, prepare, and eat pipe-cleaner sized asparagus.

And I thought that grassy was just the flavor of fresh.

Au contraire, mon frère.

One day, many years ago, I purchased some fresh asparagus.  On the tag was the farm’s phone number for more information about the veg, and recipes.  So, I called it.

The produce gods must have been smiling down on me that day because the phone was answered by the farm’s owner.  And this guy took me to asparagus school

Not the actual asparagus farmer.From left: Dancing Bear, Bunny Rabbit, Captain Kangaroo, Mr. Moose, and Mr. Green Jeans-my template for a farmer.

We spoke for at least an hour.  But by the time I hung up, he made sure I had a thorough understanding of his product.

The first thing we talked about is the life cycle of the plant.  It’s a perennial, meaning instead of starting a new plant every year, it grows year after year.  Many people already know this, but it must grow for a few years before the spears can be eaten.  But a healthy plant might last up to thirty years, with many happy springtime harvests.

But those pencil-thin, so-called babies?

no pencils

That’s what you get with a weak plant, or one that’s lived a full life and now is played out.  It is not, let me repeat this; not desirable.  It will never get the satisfying snap of a correctly cooked spear, and quelle surprise; tastes grassy because there is a surfeit of chlorophyll.

And this, I think, is why kids and many adults dislike this potentially delicious vegetable.  They’ve never eaten a good spear, cooked well.

My farmer friend informed me that the best asparagus is bright, healthy green, as thick as your thumb, with closed, dry tips.  Those restaurants that serve and grocers that sell those infuriating twigs are pulling the compost over your eyes.   They’re not gourmet specimens, they’re lies.

Why don’t we see fatties in stores more often?

Because these are the vegetables that the farmers keep and eat themselves.  And when they feast, sometimes they cook them like this:

Roasted asparagus

Untitledroasted goose

2 pounds fat asparagus cleaned, with woody ends broken off

Juice of half lemon with zest set aside

1 tablespoon Dijon mustard

1 teaspoon honey

2 teaspoons mayonnaise

1/4 cup olive oil

2 tablespoons finely grated parmesan + more for sprinkling

Salt & pepper

Whisk together all the ingredients except asparagus and sprinkling cheese.  Pour the marinade over asparagus in shallow baking dish and let sit for one hour.

15 minutes before cooking, place a large baking sheet with cooling rack on it into oven and preheat to 450.  Place veg onto cooling rack in single layer.  Sprinkle with the rest of the Parmesan and bake for 15-20 minutes turning once, until lightly tender, but crisp.

Place cooked asparagus into serving vessel and sprinkle with pinch of large flaky salt and reserved lemon zest.  Serves 4-6.

Nope.

And oh yeah, about that goose in the title?   There’s no lurking fowl.  Here at Chez Matthews, it’s just what we call asparagus.

Thanks for your time.