Lentils with Tomatoes and Gorgonzola

The other day, I mentioned the box of San Marzano tomatoes I brought home. Most of them ended up peeled, chopped, and bagged for the freezer. But, a few of them were set aside for oven roasting, and is there a sweeter, more lovely tomato flavor than what you get from slow roasting? Store-bought, sun-dried tomatoes are intensely tomato-flavored and that's perfectly nice too, but with oven roasting, you can stop the process at any point to retain a little moisture for a semi-dried effect. The result is a cross between the chewy, completely dried variety and juicy, fresh tomatoes. This dish is from Plenty which has become my go-to source for dishes with great flavor and no meat. In the book, Castelluccio lentils are suggested, and the new bulk section at our Whole Foods offers a plethora of dried bean varieties but no Castelluccios. Instead, I found black, beluga lentils which are a cute, little size and nice, dark color and worked just as well for this. Another good option would be Puy lentils.

Slow roasting tomatoes in a 250 degree F oven will take an hour and a half to two hours depending on the size of the tomatoes and the moisture content. The tomatoes were cut in half, drizzled with olive oil and balsamic vinegar, and sprinkled with thyme leaves and salt. Just keep checking in on them after about an hour and fifteen minutes until they've reached the semi-dried state you prefer. I roasted the tomatoes a couple of days in advance and stored them in a container in the refrigerator with the oil and vinegar scraped into the container with them. When I was ready to complete the dish, red onion was thinly sliced and left in a bowl with red wine vinegar and salt while everything else was prepped. The black beluga lentils were cooked in plain water for about fifteen to twenty minutes until just tender. They were drained and added to the red onion slices. Olive oil, minced garlic, and black pepper were added, and that was left until the lentils were cool. The original recipe calls for chervil, chives, and dill, but I used garlic chives from my garden and flat-leaf parsley. The chopped herbs were added to the cooled lentils and everything was tossed to combine. The roasted tomatoes along with chunks of Gorgonzola were added to the lentils as the dish was plated, and I served it on a bed of arugula leaves.

With the bite of Gorgonzola and the fabulousness I've already mentioned of oven-roasted tomatoes, this is no shy, vegetarian dish. Simple, earthy lentils carried both well, and the herbs added fresh flavors. My only regret here is that I didn't buy several more pounds of San Marzanos and another freezer for storing them.

Quinoa Salad with Dried Iranian Lime

It was last June when I first learned about dried limes. There was a story in the NY Times about their use in cuisine from Iran and Iraq, exactly how they’re used both whole and ground, and their unique, complex flavor of citrus with a slight funky edge. I immediately called Phoenicia, our nearby Middle Eastern market, learned they did have dried limes for sale, and ran straight there to get them. Dried limes are just that, whole, dehydrated, sun-dried limes. You should wash them before using them. Then, you can either pierce them and drop them whole into soups or beans as they cook, or you can chop them and then grind them in a spice grinder or coffee mill. If you grind the chopped pieces, you should shake the ground lime through a sieve to remove any large, hard bits. I tried two of the recipes from the NY Times article, the lentil salad and the broiled shrimp, but I never got around to mentioning them here. I recall that for the lentil dish, the dried limes were pierced and placed in the pot with the lentils while they cooked. The flavor they imparted was very subtle, and if I hadn’t known I’d used the dried limes I don’t think I would have picked out their flavor in the dish. For the shrimp, a paste was made with ground dried lime, other spices, and olive oil, and that paste was used as a rub on the shrimp. In that dish, the flavor from the limes was present, interesting, and enjoyable. I intended to try that again and grill the shrimp rather than broil it, but I just never got to it. All of this explains why I was so eager to try this quinoa salad from the book Plenty. I already had dried limes in my pantry, and I couldn’t wait to use them again.

There are a several great-looking mixed grain salads in that book. Here, quinoa, wild rice, and basmati rice were mixed with roasted chunks of sweet potato, herbs, sliced green onions, and feta. I had just received sweet potatoes and green onions from Farmhouse Delivery, so I was set. I bought Canadian Lake wild rice, which is a long variety that requires about 55 minutes to cook. I cooked it in a large saucepan with plenty of extra water, and added the basmati rice after about 15 minutes of simmering. When the two grains were cooked, they were drained and placed in a large mixing bowl. Meanwhile, sweet potatoes were peeled, chopped into cubes and roasted with a coating of olive oil and a sprinkling of salt and pepper. For the last 10 minutes of roasting time, the quinoa was cooked in simmering water, and then it was drained and added to the rices. Dried limes were chopped, ground, and sieved, and two tablespoons were used in the salad. Last, olive oil was heated in a small skillet, sliced garlic was added followed by chopped sage and oregano, and I was lucky to still have some sage and oregano in my herb garden after our cold spell. The oil with garlic and herbs was poured over the grain mixture followed by the roasted sweet potatoes and the oil left on the baking sheet, the sliced green onion, a little lemon juice, some shredded mint, the ground dried lime, and cubes of feta. Everything was carefully mixed so as not to break up the sweet potato or feta.

This was such a pleasant mix of nutty, chewy grains, and the garlic, onion, and herbs hit all the right flavor notes. The dried lime with its concentrated citrus was well-matched with the sweet potato and feta. You could easily add more of one thing or less of another here, but I wouldn’t change a thing next time I make this. It was a meal of a salad, and since it makes a nice, large quantity, it will be several meals. I’m already looking forward to the next one for lunch.

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.

Yotam Ottolenghi, What Are You Reading?

In 1998, Yotam left his career in academia and journalism in Israel to study at the Cordon Bleu in London. He has worked as a pastry chef at London restaurants including Baker and Spice before opening the extremely popular Ottolenghi with Noam Bar and Sami Tamimi. There are now four locations of the restaurant in London and at each, the focus is on uncomplicated, seasonal food with bold flavors. Yotam also writes a weekly column called The New Vegetarian for the Guardian Saturday magazine. He and Sami Tamimi wrote the Ottolenghi Cookbook which was released in 2008. His new book Plenty, which I'm much enjoying, is a collection of his vegetarian dishes from the Guardian column, and it was released earlier this year. The American version of Plenty will be available in February. I knew I'd hear of some interesting titles when I asked Yotam what are you reading?

Yotam:
Two books that I love:

The first is The Perfect Egg which is a collection of short stories and anecdotal food memories and recipes, all told beautifully and animatedly by the Italian architect and essayist, Aldo Buzzi. The book is illustrated by the brilliant Saul Steinberg.

The second is Saraban, a recently published book about Persian food and the society that created it and lives it. It is a travel piece and a recipe book with the most astonishing photography from modern day Iran.





Thank you for participating, Yotam. Check back to see who answers the question next time and what other books are recommended.

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Black Pepper Tofu

Over the last few months, I repeatedly heard great things about the new book Plenty by Yottam Ottolenghi. Then, I read an issue of Delicious magazine in which there was a story about the book with six recipes. Well, after that, I could wait no longer. I finally ordered my copy of the book, read it, and quickly realized I’d probably end up cooking everything in it. Seriously, every single thing looks great. The sweet potato cakes, mushroom ragu with poached duck egg, and crusted pumpkin wedges with sour cream will all be tried soon. First up, though, I made the black pepper tofu because that had caught my eye when I saw it in Delicious. This is a spicy, big-flavored kind of dish with great balance. When Kurt saw the sauce coming together in a saute pan, he said it looked like it was going to be really hot and spicy. It did look that way with the red chiles and generous amount of black pepper. But, the chiles used were mild, and the black pepper heat was tempered by the kecap manis, or sweet soy sauce, and some sugar. The result was a tangy, interesting mix of flavors enveloping crispy tofu chunks.

I’m not sure why, but the version of the recipe in Delicious is slightly different from that in the book. The quantities of ginger and the different soy sauces are just a little more or less, but I don’t think those slight changes would even be noticeable in the finished dish. To start, drained tofu was cut into chunks, coated with corn starch, and fried in hot oil. I’ve finally learned a better way to fry tofu. Rather than heating oil in a wide saute pan and adding tofu only to watch it pop and splatter and cause oil to end up all over my stovetop, countertop, and floor, I now use a small saucepan instead. Heat an inch or so of oil in the saucepan, and the sides will be high enough to contain the splattering business. You’ll need to fry in batches so as not to overcrowd, but you’ll use less oil and spend less time cleaning. The fried tofu chunks were left to drain on paper towels while the sauce was made. Now, this was destined to be delicious because making the sauce began with melting a good bit of butter in a large saute pan. To the melted butter, chopped shallots, red chiles, garlic, and ginger were added. It instantly smelled amazing. Next, light soy sauce, dark soy sauce, and kecap manis were added. I learned from The Perfect Pantry that I could make kecap manis by simmering soy sauce with molasses until thick which I did. Then, sugar and lots of coarsely ground black pepper were added, and the tofu was stirred into the sauce with big pieces of green onions.

The flavor of the sauce was bold and exciting, and the tofu somehow magically remained crunchy and firm on the surface even though it had been warmed in the sauce. It really was not a tongue burning kind of hot sauce. The spiciness was there, and the black pepper was prevalent, but the sauce brought together an interesting mix of the whole flavor spectrum. I'm already deciding what to make from the book next, and I may not even bother finding room for it on a shelf since it’ll be spending most of its time in the kitchen.