Dirty sticks and gnarly roots

Almost four months of veg boxes now, and I still get excited about opening the new box every Wednesday morning. And still almost every box has something in it that I’ve never cooked with before. This week, I had some red curly kale and surprise globe artichokes (as a replacement for leeks – nice deal!). Last week, there were dirty sticks and gnarly roots. And what do you know. They were delicious.

The dirty sticks turned out to be a vegetable more commonly known as black salsify. A first for me, but I’m hoping they will show up in my box again soon. The flavour of these couldn’t be more at odds with their appearance: they are delicate, mild, and definitely something special. Peeled and cooked the spears look like asparagus, and I think it was not just because of the visual resemblance that I thought they tasted like asparagus a bit as well. I had them with a piece of bavette steak I treated myself to, and the sticks had no problem holding their own against the grilled meat. Best meal of the week hands down.

The gnarly roots were Jerusalem artichokes. In the absence of smell as a guide you could easily mistake them for smooth-skinned ginger, but, much to my surprise, they actually did taste like artichokes, if rather less pronounced than their globe brothers. The most astonishing feat of these, though, was the hue they coloured the water over which I steamed them. One of the most stunning examples of that feeling that such a thing can surely not exist in nature. White flesh, no skin, and the water a bluish green of almost neon intensity. Fortunately the flavour was pretty out-of-this-world too.

Black salsify in a butter and lemon sauce

Inspired by a recipe in The Cranks Bible.

4–6 sticks of black salsify per person

some butter

juice of half a lemon

fresh flat-leaf parsley

First, peel the black salsify. This can be a bit tricky, since the roots tend to bleed a very sticky latex (only one of the dirty sticks gave me this treatment, but since I was stubborn and didn’t run the tap as I was peeling, it still took me five minutes to get the sticky residue off my fingers). Have a bowl of water with some lemon juice or vinegar ready, and immediately submerge every stick after peeling in order to stop it from going brown. Cut into 10cm pieces and boil or steam until tender but not bendy (5–10 minutes). Alternatively, if the sticks are thin, just give them a scrub, cut into pieces, boil or steam, then simply squeeze the root from its skin.

When the salsify is cooked, slowly melt a knob of butter with a bit of olive oil. Add the salsify, and a good squeeze of lemon, salt and black pepper to taste. Cook for a couple of minutes until the salsify is hot, then serve with the reduced sauce and some torn flat-leaf parsley sprinkled on top.

Super delicious with a mild smooth root veg mash and thinly sliced grilled steak.

Jerusalem artichoke salad with spinach and bacon

Jerusalem artichokes

a couple slices of bacon (back or streaky)

a generous salad bowl of spinach

a small handful of flat-leaf parsley

juice of half a lemon

Peel or wash the Jerusalem artichokes, then steam for about 10–12 minutes, until just tender. Crisp the bacon in a frying pan or on a griddle, an cut in slices while still warm (if you wait till they’re cool they’ll likely shatter). Wash the spinach and cut any very big leaves into smaller pieces. For the dressing, mix some olive or hazelnut oil, lemon juice, chopped parsley, salt and pepper. For an extra citrusy kick, grate in some of the lemon zest. Cut the Jerusalem artichokes into thick slices and grill until they’re crispy on the outside (resist the temptation to move the pieces around as they cook). Mix into the salad and top with the bacon. Eat straight from the bowl with a fork only.

- Naomi

The wheel’s kick and the wind’s song

Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you last week’s vegetable adventures from the middle of the North Sea, on my way home for an eagerly anticipated break. I’m carrying more food than anyone could eat on a twelve-hour journey, plus a tub of fresh pesto made last night when I should have been asleep and some packets of particularly delicious feta for my parents. I’m sure they will get the holiday cooking off to a good start. There will be lots of visits with family and friends and two birthdays, so even though I have to miss my by now very beloved veg box for two whole weeks, I trust there will be plenty of cooking and baking. More soon!

Last week’s box: Cambridgeshire short cucumber, beetroot bunch, carrots, celery, cos lettuce, runner beans, tomatoes, courgettes.

This week no box… but lots of good cooking ahead!

- Naomi

Buffalo mozzarella with very ripe tomatoes

Two tomato celebrations in eight days is a self-justifying set of events, I’d say. As long as it’s August, anyway. I learnt from the back of the carton keeping my mozzarella safe (and well-designed) that a great mozzarella is firm initially, and gets softer with age, and that the best experience is to be had if you manage to eat it while still firm. I’d always assumed it would be the other way around. But while I do love soft mozzarella, I have no problem trusting the Laverstoke farm mozzarella makers on this one. Judging by their cheese, they sure know what they’re talking about.

Salade Niçoise

The art of poaching eggs really deserves its own post some time. But what better role for a good poached egg (post-asparagus season, anyway) than as the proverbial cherry topping a salade Niçoise?

Nigel’s bolognese

The initial batch of Nigel’s bolognese was – dare I say it? – a wee bit disappointing. (And I had such high hopes.) I think the vegetables-to-sauce ratio was a bit off, and the cooking was slightly rushed. I cooked up the “leftovers” (still enough to feed a small family) a few days later with more passata, and that was rather good. It’s probably a sauce that ages well, anyway. Here’s what Anne had to say about it, plus a recipe.

Beetroot and courgette pancakes

These were an experiment, but I quite liked how they turned out. This kind of basis is very versatile – I imagine these would be good as beetroot–carrot pancakes too, or with some ricotta stirred into the batter, or two eggs for a lighter texture… We had them with grilled sea bream, but in the absence of fish they would go well with sour cream.

some beets (I had four smallish ones, which was enough for 12 small pancakes)

a small courgette

buckwheat flour (or spelt, or any other kind)

an egg

garlic, minced

a fresh chilli, chopped

some fresh coriander, chopped (stalks included)

butter for frying

Peel and grate the raw beetroots and the courgette (the latter unpeeled). Combine in a bowl, then add enough flour to coat everything and soak up any juices, but not so much that there’s spare flour on the bottom of the bowl – about one small cup. Season with a small pinch of salt (beetroot is high in sodium, so it won’t need much) and stir in the garlic, chilli and coriander. Add enough water to form a thick batter (half a cup or so, but start slowly). Add the egg and check for consistency. My batter just held together enough to be transferred to the pan heaped on a tablespoon, but slightly runnier would work as well. The only thing to be careful about is that it’s fluid enough to make pancakes of even thickness, or they will be hard to cook evenly. Add scoops to the pan, flatten with a fork, and fry in browned butter, about ten minutes on each side.

Braised beet greens

My bunched beetroots had beautiful shiny stems and firm leaves, so I cooked those up to go with the pancakes. Chop the stems, 2cm or so per piece, and tear up the leaves. Wash the stems and greens very well, then braise with some lemon juice and chilli flakes for about ten minutes in browned butter – the stems need a few minutes longer than the leaves.

Tabbouleh

Proper tabbouleh is more a salad than a starchy dish. I did not use any onion, but added some tender celery stalks – decidedly inauthentic, but it made for a nice crunch. The recipe by Yotam Ottolenghi I found in the Guardian did not mention soaking the grains, which was new to me. I actually wasn’t sure whether the omission was deliberate or an oversight, but I made my salad the night before, and the bulgur was just right without soaking. No guarantees that it will work for immediate serving as well, though. Serves 1, or 2 as a side.

a very big bunch of fresh parsley

a bunch of fresh mint

a small handful of bulgur

a large juicy tomato

either half an onion or some tender celery stalks, finely chopped

a squeeze of lemon juice

pinch of sumac (or allspice)

half a finely diced fresh chilli (optional)

Run the bulgur under a cold tap, till the water runs clear. Chop the parsley, including the stalks, very finely, and add to the bulgur. Repeat for the mint, leaves only. Add the tomato, cut in small pieces, and the onion or celery and chilli. Stir until well-combined, and season with olive oil, lemon juice, sumac, sea salt and pepper.

Pesto (with spaghetti, runner beans, and courgettes)

Going home was the perfect excuse to turn my Greek basil plant into a big batch of fresh pesto. Delicious with spaghetti and the rest of the runner beans and courgettes, although the courgette had gone soft and very bitter. Any remedies for that (except eating it earlier)?

a big basil plant

some lightly toasted pine nuts

a handful of freshly grated parmesan or pecorino

a small clove of garlic

olive oil, not too strong

Pick the leaves off the basil, and blend all the ingredients either by hand in a pestle and mortar, or with a food processor or handheld blender. Season with a small pinch of sea salt and freshly ground black pepper. Taste and adjust until the flavour and consistency are as you like them.

Foraging

When I wrote a few weeks ago that summer is hardly making itself apparent, I was of course talking nonsense. Even on the grey days, August is everywhere. It is there in the first mulberries off the tree at the back of campus. It’s there in the elderberries and rosehips growing dark purple and bright red on the riverside path to the university (where I even ran into a young red fox the other day). It is there in the sloes on the hedgerows along the estuary, in the insatiable mosquitoes, in the fields full of sunflowers on the hill overlooking the water.

It is so satisfying to pick a perfectly sweet plum from a tree lining the train tracks, or to spot some early blackberries, even stopping for a second on a long run to eat two or three. However overcast the sky might be, that’s unmistakably gloriously summer. Around here the banks of the estuary must have plenty to offer as well. In fact, it’s a very popular pastime amongst the local youth go crabbing – baiting lines and small mesh bags with bacon or chicken and excitedly declaring any specimen over a few centimetres “ginormous”. But there surely are plenty of wild edible greens around too – nettles of course, and tender leaves and flowers, but also samphire and sorrel, sea aster, borage and wild garlic, and probably dozens more that I would walk right by. (And fungi, obviously, lots of them, but I wouldn’t trust myself with those.) I’ve never really gone much beyond the fruit, but some day, I’d love to be learn enough to go out on a beautiful summer evening walk and pick my dinner while I’m at it. For the rest of the summer, though, it’s probably going to be mostly berries. I’ll have to find some time this weekend to go pick a punnet. Blackberry crumble, anyone?

Last week’s box: baby leaf spinach, broccoli, bunched carrots, kohlrabi, plum tomatoes, Portobello mushrooms, red oak leaf lettuce, courgettes, new potatoes.

This week’s box: Cambridgeshire short cucumber, beetroot bunch, carrots, celery, cos lettuce, runner beans, tomatoes, courgettes.

- Naomi

Buffalo mozzarella with very ripe tomatoes

Soft buffalo mozzarella, tomatoes bursting with flavour, some big leaves of fresh basil… what more is there to say?

King prawns in a Spanish spinach tomato sauce

King prawns again! Spanish this time, after a recipe in Moro (did I mention I love that book?). The Moro recipe uses finely chopped green pepper and caraway seed, but I used spinach, since that’s what my veg box gave me, and fennel seeds plus a tiny bit of cumin, as there was no caraway seed around the house. Tasted great though, especially with a slice of lightly toasted sourdough rye bread.

raw king prawns, peeled or unpeeled

a couple handfuls of fresh spinach

tin of good-quality chopped tomatoes, or homemade tomato sauce (for two persons, use two tins)

plenty of garlic, thinly sliced

fresh parsley

fennel or caraway seeds

dried chillies or chilli flakes

Heat a splash of olive oil and fry the garlic and some dried chillies. When the garlic starts to colour, add the caraway or fennel seeds. Stir in the tomatoes or tomato sauce, season with sea salt and black pepper and, if the sauce needs it, a pinch of sugar, and simmer for a while. (The Moro recipe says discard the juices of the tinned tomatoes before adding them, but I actually like this dish with a bit of thicker and a bit of more watery sauce.) Add the spinach and the prawns and cook for a few more minutes, until the prawns are pink. Serve with a generous amount of fresh parsley.

Kohlrabi slaw (with grilled mackerel with chermoula)

Looking around for ways to use my giant kohlrabi, I found one recipe that got lyric reviews at both Orangette and The Wednesday Chef. So what choice but to try that? It was quite good indeed, and it worked well with the grilled fish and chermoula we had with it. I’ll have to write about that chermoula some time as well. But I’m afraid that would make me a bit lyrical myself. So for now: kohlrabi slaw. Adapted from Molly Wizenberg and Luisa Weiss, who adapted it from The Farm to Table Cookbook by Ivy Manning, and Fearn Smith of The Farm Café. (PS. Other veg box participants in the meal: potatoes (fried) and a salad of red oak lettuce and spinach.)

one kohlrabi the size of a tennis ball, or a couple smaller ones (any colour – mine was purple!)

1 tsp fennel seeds

1 garlic clove, very finely minced

2 tbsp rice wine vinegar

2 tbsp olive oil

1 tsp toasted sesame oil

The original recipe(s) julienne the kohlrabi, but I prefer grating, both for the process (julienne without a mandoline… no thanks) and for the result – the slaw mixes with the dressing much better when it is grated. So: grate the kohlrabi. Toast the fennel seeds, pound in a pestle and mortar or grind in a spice grinder, combine with the other ingredients, and mix through the grated kohlrabi.

Broccoli with garlic and chilli, rice and tofu

Nothing much to say about this, except that it was a whole lot better than last week’s broccoli. Make sure not to overcook the broccoli initially – it should be bright green and still firm when it comes out of the water.

one head of broccoli

fresh chilli pepper, seeds removed and cut into small rings

plenty of garlic, thinly sliced

tofu, sliced

brown rice

tamari or soy sauce

a bit of toasted sesame oil

Separate the broccoli into florets and slice up the stem. Cook for two minutes in salted water. Boil the rice. Soften the chilli and garlic in some vegetable oil plus a splash of sesame oil, add the sliced tofu, sprinkle with tamari or soy sauce and fry till somewhat crispy, 10 minutes or so, turning halfway. Remove to a plate minus the chilli and garlic, and fry the broccoli, adding some more oil if necessary (just enough to prevent them from sticking to the pan). Plate up the rice, dress with soy sauce and/or sesame oil as desired, and top with the broccoli, garlic, chilli and tofu.

Courgette omelette with mozzarella

This omelette came out as a bit of everything, but in a way that worked. The mozzarella could be substituted by grated parmesan or manchego. Depending on the size of your pan, you may need to prepare this in two batches. Serves 2.

one medium or two small courgettes

three eggs

some milk

a ball of good-quality mozzarella

garlic, minced

fresh chilli pepper, seeds removed and cut into small rings

sweet smoked Spanish paprika (optional)

some torn basil or parsley

Thinly slice the courgettes on the diagonal. Thinly slice the mozzarella. Fry the garlic and chilli, then add the courgettes in one layer and allow to soften. If you’re using basil, you can add it now or at the very end. Beat the eggs with some milk and salt, and pour over the softened courgettes (the egg mixture should slip between the courgettes, but not cover them completely). Immediately distribute the mozzarella over the omelette and dust with the sweet smoked paprika. Cover the pan and let the omelette set. If using parsley, add after the pan has come off the heat. Serve with crusty sourdough bread and a green salad.

Pasta with Portobello mushrooms, tomatoes, spinach and chick peas

Just a simple vegetable medley. I stirred some smoked aubergine pesto through the pasta, which rounded things off quite nicely. Celery and carrots in the new box, so the last two Portobello’s will be going into Nigel’s bolognese. Can’t wait!

I got no homework but I got extra homework

Listen to this song by Fractured Arden. It will make your day. And then listen to this song by Scarred-Knee Veeraswami, from whom I borrowed the title for this post. Fortunately, I’m conclusively past the stage of being assigned homework. But boy did I have extra homework this week. I hardly want to think about how many projects I have to finish and how many chapters I have to write. It’s been pretty crazy. But somehow, it’s also been quite a calm week. And I think that’s in no small part due to some beautiful vegetables, simple but very nice meals, and desserts of fresh summer fruits and a glass of elderflower cordial. It makes me feel like I’m being good to myself, amid all the chaos and stress.

So here’s the veg box wrap-up for this week. Again some staples and some, ehm, ‘sometimes foods’. Sometimes veg? Ah, whatever. Nam nam nam nam.

Last week’s box: broccoli, watercress, cherry tomatoes, bunched Chioggia beetroot, courgettes, English green lettuce, red pepper, rocket, coriander.

This week’s box: baby leaf spinach, broccoli, bunched carrots, kohlrabi, plum tomatoes, Portobello mushrooms, red oak leaf lettuce, courgettes, new potatoes.

- Naomi

King prawn linguine with cherry tomatoes and rocket

I eat king prawns very rarely, but when I do, this is one of my favourite recipes. This really does have bags of flavour, as the stale Masterchef saying goes, but in a completely cohesive way.

king prawns

linguine

a pack of cherry tomatoes

a good handful of rocket

garlic, chopped

chilli flakes

a splash of dry white wine or vermouth

Boil the linguine (this is one of the rare occasions where I would use “white”, not wholewheat). When the pasta is five minutes from done, gently fry the garlic in a good amount of olive oil without browning it. Cut the cherry tomatoes in half and add to the pan cut side down. Season with pepper, sea salt and some chilli flakes. After a few minutes, add the king prawns and a splash of white wine or vermouth and give everything a good swirl in the pan. The olive oil, wine and tomato juices should come together to form a thick saucy coating for the prawns. Drain the linguine and add to the pan, coating the strands with the sauce. Transfer to plate(s), top with the rocket, and serve with a cold white beer or a glass of white wine.

Watercress pesto

I’d been wanting to have this pesto ever since seeing Nigel Slater make it on his BBC show. I’ll just say: it didn’t disappoint. The original is made by hand in the most gorgeous pestle and mortar (you can watch it here), but I used an immersion blender, which worked fine too. The quantities are rough – this one needs to be done on taste. I got three generous portions out of mine.

a bunch of watercress

two large handfuls of rocket

a handful of basil leaves

three cloves of garlic

a small handful of pine nuts

sea salt

a handful of freshly grated parmesan

olive oil

Toast the pine nuts in a dry frying pan. They burn easily, so occasionally shake the pan and don’t abandon them. Pick the watercress, disposing of all but the most tender stalks. Crush the garlic under a knife or in a pestle and mortar with a pinch of sea salt (you don’t need much). Combine all ingredients except for the olive oil, blend, and slowly add some oil until it has the consistency you want. Serve with spaghetti or linguine and some extra parmesan and pine nuts.

Roasted Chioggia beets with lettuce and goat’s cheese

Chioggia beets look quite stunning, sporting pink-and-white concentric circles when cut horizontally. They’re not quite as dramatic when cooked, but the circles are still visible, and mine turned very nice shades of pink and orange. Judging by the ones I was sent, they might as well be called “rat-tail beets”. But I guess that would make marketing a bit of a challenge. Lesson learnt since last week: when beets are properly cooked, the skin can be rubbed off very easily (under a cold tap if they’re hot). This simple salad, plus some chunky bread, serves one.

two or three Chioggia beets

some firm lettuce

goat’s cheese (soft or firm)

some pumpkin seeds (if you like walnuts, those would work well too)

olive oil and balsamic vinegar

optional: a few sprigs of (lemon) thyme

Rub any sand off the beets, taking care not to break the skin. Don’t remove the tails. If the beets have fresh-looking greens, leave 5cm attached to the beets, wash the rest, and blanch for a couple of minutes (do this before you cook the beets, because those will probably still be a bit sandy and get the water muddy). Boil or steam the beets for 30–60 minutes, until a knife slides in easily. Rub off their skins and slice thin circles horizontally. Toast the seeds in a dry frying pan. Arrange the lettuce and beet greens on a plate and top with the beet slices and crumbled goat’s cheese. Dress with olive oil, balsamic vinegar, salt and pepper, and possibly some lemon thyme. Seeds on top.