Roasted Winter Vegetables

Westside Dinner Club Episode 1: Roasted Winter Veggies

In fall some of my friends had a great idea: A weekly dinner club! Whitney has described it as the anti-potluck. One person cooks a meal each week for everyone else. They're always really good; I like to call them dinners of standards. At this point we've got about six participating households, and I've hosted three times, but somehow in the craziness of the last two quarters I haven't posted any of the dinners that I've made! These first three back-posts will be a dinner club catch-up.

The first time I hosted (in mid-November) I made squash soup and roasted winter vegetables. The soup was a lot waterier than I wanted it to be, so I'm editing it out of history (except for the part where I just told you about it). The vegetables, on the other hand, were a beautiful showcase of the roots that serve as my seasonal local staples through winter: turnips, potatoes, parsnips, and jerusalem artichokes.

Left to right: Turnip, potato, parsnip, jerusalem artichoke.

Jerusalem artichokes were first introduced to me in a dish similar to this about a year ago by Lee at a Free Herbal Clinic winter workshop. I couldn't believe how yummy they were, packing an earthy artichoke-like flavor and much smoother mouth texture than most starchy roots (since they in fact don't have as much starch as most commercially available roots).

Jerusalem artichokes, also known as sunchokes, are a species of sunflower.

Raw, they are nutty, crunchy, and crisp, and make a great snack with almond butter. Though I imagine that their bulbous grey bodies play a large part in why I've never seen them at a large grocery, I personally am pretty charmed by the knobby little characters.

This recipe was the first I ever used to make jerusalem artichokes and it remains one of my favorites for its humble comfort but distinct flavors.

from http://morselsandmusings.blogspot.com/2008/02/baked-jerusalem-artichokes.html

285 ml double cream or créme fraîche
Juice of 1 lemon
2 cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped
1 good handful of fresh thyme, leaves picked and chopped
3 handfuls of grated Parmesan cheese
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 kg Jerusalem artichokes, peeled and sliced as thick as a pencil
2 good handfuls of fresh breadcrumbs (if you want to go from mmm to OMG, use fresh torn bread pieces, particularly caraway rye)
Olive oil

1. Preheat your oven to 220°C/425°F/Gas7.
2. In a bowl mix your cream, lemon juice, garlic half the thyme and most of the Parmesan, and season well to taste.
3. Throw in the sliced Jerusalem artichokes. Mix well and place everything in an ovenproof baking dish.
4. Mix the breadcrumbs with the rest of the thyme and Parmesan and some salt and pepper.
5. Sprinkle all the flavoured breadcrumbs over the artichokes and drizzle with a little olive oil.
6. Bake in the oven for around 30 minutes until the artichokes are tender and the breadcrumbs golden.

Dumpster Gourmet

After taking Seeds of Change and having lived off-campus for the last year and a half, eating locally grown, environmentally sustainable, fair, and seasonal food is more than just something I believe in, it's something I do (and am blessed and thankful to be able to do). While I don't like to say "organic" in that list of qualifiers (because of the corporate co-optation of the word to sell produce that's still grown unsustainably, just without the pesticides), by and large most of the produce and staples that I get are organic or unsprayed. Food that is truly grown organically is not only in harmony with the Earth, but it's what's most nourishing for my body.

Nevertheless, I'm confronted with opportunities to eat non-organic mass-produced food all the time. While I know that I made it this far in life primarily eating industrial petrol-food (no offense Mom and Dad), and that the majority of Americans go their entire lives on the stuff, I still have to talk myself into getting over myself and eating non-organic food sometimes, or at least cooking with it (I seem to have considerably less internal deliberation when a cooked meal is put in front of me). When it comes to non-organic processed food, high fructose corn syrup and all GMO soy and corn additives are so ubiquitous that there's no need to try and assess whether something is healthy; I can enjoy a pre-packaged snack on occasion without too much fuss, just because there's no denying that it's bad for me. There's something harder about biting into an apple that I know was sprayed with pesticides, however, or eating eggs from chickens that were pumped full of drugs and raised on GM corn (not to mention housed in totally disturbing factory prisons with their beaks cut off). The more whole the food is, the more I have to look at it's face and think about everything behind it.

With the arrival of Trader Joe's in Olympia a few months ago has come much free food. So long as you're not picky, you can often get all the food you need--from the dumpster! The Trader Joe's (or TJ's as we like to call it) dumpster is truly a beautiful thing. As with all dumpsters, it can be hit or miss, but if you start to go once or a few times a week, you can almost reliably score a car-trunk full of food. Bread, eggs, cheese, fruit, vegetables, juice, cookies--you can't exactly go with a checklist, but if you name it it's not unlikely to be there. While I personally don't make it out to the treasure trove that often, I've been a frequent beneficiary of my housemates' and friends' lucrative dives. Grandparents, parents, and anyone else who may be reading this in horror, suspend your mortification. This is not rancid, rotten food. Of course, that exists in most dumpsters too, but much of what gets thrown out is food in great condition that may only be just past its expiration date or have some small ding rendering it unsellable (like a dented, unopened bottle of juice). With eggs, one may be cracked and the rest of the dozen be fine. Sometimes you can't even guess why something was tossed.

Anyway, this whole practice brings me back to my question of what I'm willing to put in my body. Am I willing to set aside certain habitualized values and eating practices I've established (like not wanting to consume pesticides and hormones) for the benefits of keeping good food from the landfill and eating for free? Most assuredly yes. I just have to go through this whole cyclical thought process every time.

The best thing about Trader Joe's, though, is that sometimes I don't have to compromise. They throw away organic things too! Now there's an offer I can't refuse.

Thus brings me to tonight's dinner. With a fridge full of dumpstered produce, I've been enjoying some things I wasn't expecting to indulge in until summertime. Like TJ's organic basil and grape tomatoes: totally out of season and imported from somewhere warm... not something I support buying this time of year, but more than happy to save from disposal. Along with dumpstered portabello mushrooms and other on-hand ingredients, I adapted the following recipe from Vegan Planet by Robin Robertson.

Pesto-Tomato Polenta with Sauteed Spinach and Portobellos

3 1/2 cups water

few shakes salt

1 cup yellow cornmeal

1/4 cup pesto OR 1/4 basil + 2 garlic cloves chopped finely and a few handfuls shredded parmesan

olive oil

salt and pepper to taste

about 10 cherry or grape tomatoes cut in halves

portabello mushrooms cut into 1/2 inch slices (as many as you want)

spinach (as much as you want)

1. Boil the water and salt. Reduce heat to medium, slowly stirring in cornmeal. Reduce heat to low and continue to cook, stirring frequently, until thick, about 30 mins. Near the end, stir in the pesto or basil/garlic/parmesan makeshift pesto [if you're going with the latter, also stir in a tablespoon of olive oil] and the tomatoes. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

2. Spoon the polenta into a lightly oiled, shallow 10-inch square baking dish and spread it evenly over the bottom. Refrigerate until firm, at least 30 mins.

3. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. When the polenta is firm, cut it into as many pieces as you want to serve it as. [At this point, the recipe had you transfer the polenta to a cookie sheet. I couldn't see why when they were already sitting in an oiled baking dish. If you really want all the short sides of the pieces to be crispy, then go ahead, put them on a cookie sheet. More dishes for you. Otherwise, I'd recommend leaving them in the pan]. Brush olive oil on top of polenta. Bake until golden brown, 30-40 mins.

4. In last 10 minutes of polenta baking, sautee portabellos with garlic in olive oil over low heat till mushrooms are tender, about 5 mins. Throw in lots of spinach at the end and stir until just wilted.

After eating this creation, I do not in fact recommend the two parts of this dish together. Both were delicious on their own and weren't bad together, but they didn't really complement each other. The polenta could easily stand on its own, especially if you experimented with putting different vegetables in it. The mushroom spinach sautee seemed better suited for pasta. Next time!

Chanukkah Party

Continuing with the series of back-posts... In mid December I had a fourth night Chanukkah party. We had three different kinds of latkes: My friend Julia made sweet potato-leek latkes, and I made vegan latkes and traditional latkes. Well, traditional in batter at least... I fried them in bacon grease. My Southern Jewish ancestors' once common practice was unfortunately absent in my upbringing, so I tried it out for the occasion with sinfully scrumptious results. The guests (who apparently didn't keep Kosher either) loved them. The sweet potato latkes were wonderful too. 'Twas a jubilant celebration!

Meat Pies

Made these in November.

Step into my Time Machine: Apple Cider the old-fashioned way

Sometime in the last succulent days of summer, Bob, Jessica and I went apple picking. Bob is friends with some of the wonderful people at Calliope Farm and they let us come use their apple press. In all we pressed about 9 gallons of cider, so we each took 3 gallons. Jessica and I let ours wild ferment into hard cider which I bottled in December and have been enjoying since. I think I let it go a little longer than I should have, but it didn't turn into vinegar (which Bob was intentionally going for with his); instead it turned into a tart, semi-dry sparkling beverage that from bottle to bottle probably ranges between 2 and 3% alcohol. Doing this, from the picking, to the pressing, to the fermenting and bottling, is one of those processes that really makes me feel complete, knowing that I'm doing something that humans have been doing for a long long time. It makes me feel rich.

I took these pictures on my Nikon SLR.

If I were a unicorn, I would live off of this foam. It tasted like apple-flavored clouds.

Speaking of staying warm...

It's 9 degrees Fahrenheit outside right now. I'm camped out in my living room with my back against the heater, procrastinating working on my final paper. Every time the heater kicks off it spits out a little spiteful bit of cold air. But having just consumed a big mug of my homemade hot chocolate, my innards are staying nice and warm. If you're used to cocoa from a mix, this may not be your thing. But if you're one of the some that like it hot, then I got the recipe for you.

I don't measure any of this, so these amounts are approximate. Eyeball it and taste as you go. It's done when you've tweaked it to your personal satisfaction.

In a small saucepan combine over medium-low heat:

2-3 cups rice milk/hemp milk/soy milk/milk alternative of your choice (because a. milk alternatives are delicious, and b. the real thing creates a gross film on top if you're not stirring every second of the way)

4-5 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder (I just shake it in until it looks good and dark and taste it until it's thick and chocolately enough for my standards. Unsweetened cocoa powder doesn't actually have any fat in it, so at least this part's guilt free!)

1 tablespoon molasses

1 dried chili pepper

2 cardamom pods

1 half cinnamon stick

1 inch thick knob of ginger cut into thin slices

1/2 tsp vanilla extract (this could only be better with a real vanilla pod)

Smoosh any cocoa clumps against the side of the pot until they dissolve. Put a lid on the pot and let it simmer, stirring occasionally and lowering heat as necessary so it doesn't boil over.

Just before serving, stir in:

1-2 teaspoons heavy whipping cream

I also made one new addition tonight that was absolutely incredible. It's not at all necessary, but if you've got a banana laying around, don't hesitate. Pour yourself a big mug, take about two inches of banana, and plop it into your hot drink. Using a spoon, break the banana into a few chunks, let it sit for a few seconds to get heated up, then mash against the side of your mug using the back of your spoon. Stir it all up and savor the rich spice symphony!

Yes, I Can(ned)

The fruits of my summer's labor, my babies; enough Zeideco Green Beans to keep me warm through the winter and more mixed pickles than you can shake a stick at.

P.S. You can click on the picture to enlarge it.