Yesterday’s rainy weather inspired me to make a pot of soup to warm up. My mom has been making my Aunt Marty’s French Mushroom Soup for as long as I can remember. Aunt Marty and her branch of the family have lived on communes over the decades, including the Hutterite variety, so it’s possible that this is a Hutterite soup. Hutterites make fruit and grape wines, so I imagine they must cook with it as well. This soup is quite similar to a French onion soup, except that it centers around mushrooms instead of onions. Since I am a vegetarian, I have substituted vegetable broth for the other, and I like to make the vegetable broth from scratch when I have time, as I did today. Yes, it’s indeed possible to make rich, dark, French-style soups totally vegetarian. How could a soup made from white wine, meltingly-soft onions, mushrooms, parmesan, and herbs not be delicious?
I have improved on my aunt’s recipe by adding fresh herbs from my garden, as well as increasing the amount of white wine and garlic. Aunt Marty’s recipe calls for white button mushrooms. That’s what I used today, but I often substitute crimini mushroom instead, or use half-and-half. It’s really quite easy to pull together, as long as you have an hour for simmering.
FRENCH MUSHROOM SOUP
2 lbs. (4 blue boxes) fresh mushrooms (button or crimini, or a combination)
1 large onion
3 garlic cloves
4 tablespoons butter
3 tablespoons tomato paste
8 cups vegetable broth (here is my recipe, but you can use broth from the store)
1/2 cup dry white wine
1/2 cup fresh parsley
3 sprigs fresh thyme (optional)
2 teaspoons salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 cup grated parmesan, plus more for garnish
croutons are optional for garnish
METHOD
Slice the mushrooms thinly. Cut the onion in half, then slice it thinly. Mince the garlic.
Melt the butter in a large soup pot. Add the mushrooms, onion, and garlic. Saute until tender, about 10 minutes.
During this time, chop the parsley and remove the thyme leaves from the stems. When the mushrooms are tender, add the herbs and tomato paste. Simmer about 1 minute. Add the white wine, broth, parmesan cheese, salt and pepper. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer. Simmer 1 hour, then serve with more parmesan as garnish, plus croutons if you like.
Madhur Jaffrey says, “I love this dish with an irrational passion.” The first time I made this potato-coconut curry I easily understood the attraction. When coconut is cooked with garlic, cumin, and turmeric, the scent is intoxicating and unusual.
This was one of my favorite dishes to cook in college. My roommates usually requested this curry or the Mediterranean Lemony Potato Stew. Both recipes come from Madhur Jaffrey’s World of the East Vegetarian Cooking, which was one of the two cookbooks I owned in college. Both are still favorites of mine.
The original recipe calls for fresh coconut, but I almost always use dried, unsweetened coconut. Fresh coconut has a fun chewy and silky texture, but it takes some time and effort to break open a coconut. If you use dried coconut instead of fresh, check the packaging to make sure it is unsweetened, and doesn’t contain sugar.
This is an extremely simple curry to pull together. It takes about 10 minutes to prepare (and less if you don’t peel your potatoes), and 45 minutes to simmer. Other than the coconut, the ingredients are staples you probably have in your pantry. Turmeric and cumin are more common in Western kitchens than, say, fenugreek or ajwain! This is one of those dishes in which you add ingredients to the hot saucepan in a quick procession, seconds apart from each other — so be efficient by preparing and measuring the ingredients before heating the stove.
POTATO COCONUT CURRY
3 medium-size boiling potatoes (about 1 1/4 lb)
6 garlic cloves
4 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 whole dried red chili
1 teaspoon whole cumin seeds
1 1/2 cups grated coconut (dried and unsweetened, or fresh)
1/2 teaspoon ground turmeric
2 teaspoons ground cumin seeds
2 teaspoons salt
1 1/4 pounds diced tomatoes, fresh or canned (16-20 ounces)
2 teaspoons sugar
1 teaspoon red wine vinegar
METHOD:
Peel the potatoes (I used white potatoes with delicate skin, and didn’t peel them). Cut into a 3/4-inch dice and put into a bowl of cold water. Mince the garlic. Measure the coconut and whole cumin seeds. In a small bowl, combine the turmeric, ground cumin, and salt.
Heat the oil in a heavy 3-quart saucepan over medium-high heat. When hot, put in the minced garlic. Stir for about 5 seconds.
Now put in the red pepper and the cumin seeds. Stir for another 3 seconds. The garlic should brown lightly, the red pepper should darken, and the cumin seeds should sizzle.
Lower the heat to medium, put in the coconut and stir around for about 15 seconds (I often stir for around 1 minute to toast the dried coconut a little).
Drain the potatoes in a colander. Add them to the saucepan, as well as the turmeric, ground cumin, salt, tomatoes (including the juices in the can), plus 1 1/2 cups water.
Bring to a boil. Cover, turn heat to low, and simmer for about 45 minutes or until the potatoes are tender. Stir gently every 7-8 minutes or so to prevent sticking. Put in the sugar and vinegar. Stir again and cook, uncovered, for 1 minute.
Saag paneer is an Indian dish consisting of a pool of soft spinach stew studded with cubes of firm paneer cheese. The spinach is “saag” and the cheese is “paneer.” This traditional dish is improved with the revolutionary addition of mustard greens, as well a thoughtful balance of spices. I made this mustard green saag paneer twice over the holidays because my family kept requesting it.
I am sometimes cautious about ordering saag paneer in restaurants because the flavor can be bland when prepared for timid American palates. However I was fortunate to discover this perfect and vibrant recipe in Raghavan Iyer’s cookbook 660 Curries, which is also the source of the fabulous and spicy version of muttar paneer that I shared over the summer. Not only is the spice blend here lovely, but Iyer’s insight to add mustard greens makes the dish more pungent and flavorful. This is a wonderfully enjoyable way to eat your greens.
For those of you unfamiliar with paneer, it’s a dense Indian cheese that holds its shape when folded into hot curries. It is often pan-fried before being added to curries (although many Indian restaurants cut corners by tossing in small cold cubes). You can find paneer in Indian groceries, and some Arab markets in my area carry it as well. When I visit Indian groceries, I often buy several packages of paneer, and store it in the freezer so that I always have it on hand. If you freeze yours, remember to thaw it before using. If you are unable to find paneer in your area, the greens in this dish are so delicious that you could easily enjoy it without the paneer. Alternatively, you could substitute the paneer for big chunks of steamed potato, which would create a delicious “saag aloo.”
MUSTARD GREEN SAAG PANEER
6-8 ounces fresh spinach leaves
1 large bunch mustard greens
1 teaspoon whole coriander seeds
1/4 teaspoon cumin seeds
1/4 teaspoon black peppercorns
3 cloves
cardamom seeds from 3 green cardamom pods
1 dried red chile
1 medium onion
6 medium-size garlic cloves
2-inches of ginger
2 tablespoons canola or olive oil
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1 cup water
1/2 teaspoon turmeric
1 1/2 teaspoon kosher or sea salt
14-18 ounces paneer cheese
1/2 cup heavy cream
1/2 teaspoon garam masala
METHOD
Soak the spinach leaves and mustard greens in a large bowl of cold water. Let them sit a few minutes to soak which will loosen any dirt clinging to the leaves, then pull out the leaves. Finely chop the spinach and mustard greens. One way to easily chop the large mustard green leaves is to stack about 5 large leaves on top of each other. Roll them up like a cigar, then thinly slice the roll. This technique of slicing a “cigar” of stacked and rolled leaves is called “chiffonade.” At this point, you can easily chop the leaves more finely. Repeat this stacking, rolling, slicing, and chopping process with the rest of the leaves.
Make the spice blend by combining the coriander seeds, cumin seeds, black peppercorns, cloves, cardamom seeds, and dried red chile in a coffee grinder or spice grinder. If you are using a coffee grinder, you will probably want to wipe the grinder before and after with a damp paper-towel.
Prepare the paneer by cutting it into inch-size cubes.
Pan-fry the paneer in a wide skillet with about 1/4 cup or less of oil. Rotate the cubes to fry on all sides until the color is honey-brown. This will take about 7-10 minutes. Let them drain on a paper-towel.
Slice the onion. Roughly chop the garlic cloves. Slice the 2-inch piece of ginger into long slices.
Heat the 2 tablespoons of oil in a skillet over medium heat. Add the onion, garlic, and ginger, and stir-fry until the onion is light brown, 8-10 minutes. Remove the skillet from the heat, and stir in the spice mixture you made in the grinder, plus the turmeric. The heat from the onion should be just right to lightly cook the spices without burning them.
Transfer the mixture to a blender or food processor. Add the tomato paste and 1/4 cup of the water. Puree to create a smooth paste. Return the paste to the skillet. Pour the remaining 3/4 cup water to the blender or food processor, and whir the blades to wash it out and capture the remaining paste. Add this to the skillet as well.
Place the skillet over medium heat. Pile handfuls of the greens into the skillet, cover it, and let the steam wilt them. Stir, and repeat with the remaining greens. Once they are all wilted, cover the skillet and cook, stirring occasionally, until the greens are broken down to a sauce-like consistency and are olive-green in color, 10-15 minutes.
Stir in the salt, garam masala, paneer cubes, and cream. Continue simmering the curry, covered, stirring occasionally, until the cheese and cream are warmed through, 5-8 minutes.
Honestly the best scones I’ve ever tasted, even better than Some Crust Bakery, I may venture. I made these for a special breakfast on Christmas Eve morning.
These buckwheat scones are perfectly flaky and moist, with a richly fragrant aroma. The buckwheat and fig flavors are complex and complementary. The recipe comes from my favorite baking cookbook, Good to the Grain (which I have used for several of my favorite cookie recipes including whole wheat chocolate chip, cornmeal cranberry cookies, and whole wheat gingersnaps).
Because you roll the scones into swirls like cinnamon rolls, they take a little longer to prepare than regular scones. However it’s entirely possible to roll them into logs the day before, and simply slice and bake them in the morning.
The homemade fig preserves also take a little while to cook, but you can prepare that sometime in the preceding month (as it keeps that long in the fridge). The fig jam recipe makes double the amount required for the scones, so you can have extra on hand for spreading on anything and everything. Alternatively you could double the scone recipe and use all of the fig jam at once. The fig jam is boozy because of the addition of 1 cup of red wine and 1/2 cup of port. It will make your kitchen smell incredible when it simmers on the stove. The recipe calls for 12 ounces of dried Black Mission figs, which is coincidently the exact size of the packages of dried figs at Trader Joe’s.
BUCKWHEAT SCONES WITH BOOZY FIG JAM
INGREDIENTS FOR THE FIG JAM
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 cup water
2 whole cloves
1 star anise
1 cup red wine
1/2 cup port
12 ounces dried Black Mission figs, stems removed
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
4 ounces (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
METHOD FOR THE FIG JAM
To poach the figs, measure 1/4 cup water and the sugar into a small heavy-bottomed saucepan. Stir the mixture together with a wooden spoon, incorporating the sugar without splashing it up the sides, to avoid forming crystals. Bring the mixture to a boil over a medium flame and cook for 7-10 minutes, until the syrup is amber-colored.
Add the red wine, port, figs, and cinnamon, standing back a bit, as the syrup is hot. Don’t panic when the syrup hardens; this is the normal reaction when liquids are added to hot sugar. Continue cooking the mixture over a medium flame for 2 minutes, until the sugar and wine blend.
Reduce the flame to low and simmer for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally. The figs will burble quietly as they are jostled together by the flame; they are ready when the wine has reduced by half. Remove the pan from the stove and cool to room temperature.
Fish out the star anise and cloves. Pour the cooled figs, with their liquid, into a food processor and puree until smooth, about 1 minute. Add the softened butter to the fig paste and process until smooth. The fig butter can be spread right onto the buckwheat scone dough or stored in the refrigerator for up to 1 month. If it is refrigerated, bring it to room temperature before using.
INGREDIENTS FOR THE SCONES
1 cup buckwheat flour
1 1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 ounces (1 stick) cold unsalted butter
1 1/4 cups heavy cream
1 cup boozy fig jam (recipe above)
METHOD FOR SCONES
Sift the dry ingredients into a large bowl. Add the butter to the dry ingredients by either cutting the butter into 1/4-inch pieces, or freezing the butter and grating it into the flour using a cheese grater. Rub the butter between your fingers, breaking it into smaller bits. Continue rubbing until the butter is coarsely ground and feels like grains of rice. The faster you do this, the more the butter will stay solid, which is important for the success of the recipe.
Add the cream and gently mix it into the flour with a spatula until the dough is just combined.
Use a pastry scraper or spatula to transfer the dough onto a well-floured surface. It will be sticky, so flour your hands and pat the dough into a rectangle. Grab a rolling pin and roll the dough into a rectangle that is 8-inches wide, 16-inches long, and 3/4 inch thick. If at any time the dough rolls off into a different direction, use your hands to square the corners and pat it back into shape. As you’re rolling, periodically run a pastry scraper or spatula underneath to loosen the dough, flour the surface, and continue rolling. This keeps the dough from sticking. Flour the top of the dough if the rolling pin in sticking.
Spread the fig jam over the dough. Roll the long end of the dough up, patting the dough as you roll so that it forms a neat long 16 inches long. Roll the finished log so that the seam is on the bottom and the weight of the roll seals the edge.
Use a sharp knife to slice the log in half. Put the halves on a baking sheet or plate, cover loosely with plastic wrap, and chill in the refrigerator for 30 minutes. (The dough can be kept covered, in the refrigerator, for 2 days). While the dough is chilling, preheat the oven to 350F. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper.
After 30 minutes, take both logs out of the refrigerator and cut each half into 6 equal pieces about 1 1/4 inches wide.
Place each scone flat, with the spiral of the fig butter facing up, on the baking sheet, 6 to a sheet. Give the scones a squeeze to shape them into rounds.
Bake for 30-42 minutes, rotating the sheets halfway through. The scones are ready to come out when their undersides are golden brown.
I’m sharing this recipe because it’s so difficult to find a good vegetarian broth recipe. Many believe the myth that good soups have to be built on a foundation of meat or meat broth. It’s possible to build a fantastic soup on vegetarian aromatics, but you might need some guidance to do it well. I’ve tried several vegetarian broth recipes over the years, but they were usually too bland or too garlicky. This trustworthy, balanced, and rich broth comes from one of my favorite cookbooks, Vegan Soul Kitchen by Bryant Terry. Of course you can used boxed broth from the grocery, but homemade broths take soups (and risottos) to the next level.
These vegetables in the photo create the broth, displayed in their cut form. The onions cook quartered with skins on, the garlic cloves are smashed but have their skins intact, and the celery, carrots, and mushrooms are sliced.
You may want to add an additional herb or vegetable, depending on what you plan to do with the broth, or use leftover scraps and stems of vegetables. For instance, this week I added the dark green sections of several leeks to prepare the broth to make leek and potato soup. Warning: I added a few brussels sprout leaves once, and the broth was good that day, but tasted too cabbage-y the next day as leftovers.
BASIC VEGETABLE BROTH
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 large onions, quartered (include the skin)
1 large carrot, sliced
4 celery ribs, sliced
8 ounces button mushrooms, sliced
1 whole garlic bulb, unpeeled, broken up, and smashed with the back of a knife
2 bay leaves
3 sprigs fresh thyme
1/2 teaspoon coarse sea salt
1/8 teaspoon cayenne
9 cups water
METHOD:
In a stockpot over medium-high heat, warm the olive oil. Add all of the ingredients except for the water. Saute, stirring often, until softened, about 5 minutes. Add the water, bring to a boil, reduce heat to medium-low, and simmer, uncovered, until the vegetables are meltingly tender, about 1 hour. If you have extra time, you can turn off the heat and let the broth sit for another hour or two to enrich the flavor further.
Strain the vegetables, pressing down on them to extract all their liquids. Discard (and compost) the cooked vegetables.
When you’ve overdosed on xmas cookies, you might crave some lighter meals around the holidays. This warm winter salad is utterly delicious, earthy, and healthful. The bright dressing and goat cheese bring the dish together, and the lentils are richly-flavorful with sauteed aromatics and herbs.
I made it for the first time a few years ago in Berkeley with my cousin Patricia, and it has become a favorite winter salad. It comes from Diana Henry’s book Roast Figs Sugar Snow, which is a collection of vibrant recipes for cold weather, gathered from Northern Europe and New England. Last winter I shared the orange-cardamom star cookies from the same cookbook. My favorite chocolate-rosemary sorbet comes from her cookbook Crazy Water Pickled Lemons.
Serve this as a colorful side dish, or by itself for a simpler meal. It’s a breeze to made since you assemble everything while the squash roasts.
ROAST WINTER SQUASH SALAD WITH LENTILS AND GOAT CHEESE
3-3.5 lb. (1.5 kg) winter squash, such as butternut or acorn
salt and pepper
olive oil
2 tablespoons butter
9 oz (250 g) goat cheese, broken up
for the lentils:
9.5 oz (275 g) green lentils
1/2 small onion, or 1 super-small onion or shallot
1 small stalk celery
1 tablespoon butter
1/2 tablespoon olive oil
1 1/2 tablespoon fresh flat-leaf parsley
for the dressing:
1/2 tablespoon white wine vinegar or sherry vinegar
tiny dollop Dijon mustard
4 tablespoons olive oil
good pinch sugar
METHOD:
Preheat the oven to 350F (180C). Halve the winter squash and scoop out the seeds and fibers. Peel the squash and cut into 1-inch pieces. Put the squash wedges in a roasting tray. Season with salt and pepper, drizzle with olive oil, and dot with butter. Roast it in the preheated oven for 15-20 minutes. Turn the wedges over a few times during baking. Don’t let it scorch or get too dry.
Meanwhile, prepare the lentils while the squash is in the oven. Rinse the lentils, then cover them with cold water in a small saucepan and bring to a boil. Cook until tender, 15-30 minutes. They should be tender and hold their shape.
While the lentils are cooking, chop the onion and celery finely. Gently saute them in a wide skillet with the butter and olive oil until they are soft.
Meanwhile, prepare the dressing by whisking all of the dressing ingredients together. Also chop the parsley at this time. Set both aside.
When the lentils are cooked, add them to the pan of onions and celery. Stir them around to soak up the cooking juices. Add 2/3 of the dressing and the chopped parsley. Season well with salt and pepper.
Serve either on a wide serving platter or on individual plates. Mound the lentils, then top with the roasted squash. Dot with the nuggets of goat cheese, drizzle on the remaining dressing.
Over the past few years, I’ve become something of a “brussels-sprout-Evangelist,” spreading the good news of how fabulous brussels sprouts can be — if prepared thoughtfully. I truly believe that most people who think they hate brussels sprouts actually hate poor preparation (like boiling the little guys to death), and would enjoy them if they tried better cooking methods. My trusted basic method with brussels sprouts is to steam them softly in salted water, then toss them in browned butter (which has a lovely nutty flavor). Lately people have been grilling or roasting them, and tossing them in a myriad of complementary sauces. We’re on a good path.
Now a spark of genius: this fresh, raw brussels sprout salad has emerged as an unexpected and delightful alternative. After all of these years of cooking the hell out of them, who would have thought that a delicate salad could be composed from the tender, nutty, raw inner leaves?
I’ve heard from friends that the Austrian chef at Johannes in Palm Springs has been doing something revolutionary with brussels sprouts. He peels off the inner layers and fluffs them up raw into a simple salad with toasted walnuts, parmesan, and a light vinaigrette. I’ve never been to the restaurant, but have embraced his salad idea. It’s the first time I’ve thought to fluff up the raw leaves into a light and buoyant salad. This fall, it’s become my favorite salad to prepare at home, and I especially enjoy the simple but complementary nuttiness of the parmesan and toasted walnuts.
The recipe I’ve written out has flexible amounts, since most salads are intrinsically flexible, and you also might want to vary the size of the salad per number of guests. I use my favorite simple French salad dressing from My French Kitchen by Joanne Harris & Fran Warde. Over the past year or so, I’ve used this bright and simple dressing for most salads, and for dressing other things like steamed vegetables. This amount of dressing will make more than what you need for the amount of salad as written, but the remaining dressing will keep for a week or so in the fridge.
RAW BRUSSELS SPROUT SALAD WITH SHAVED PARMESAN AND TOASTED WALNUTS
about 3 cups brussels sprouts
handful of walnuts
parmesan for shaving
Simple French Dressing:
2 tablespoons cider vinegar
2 teaspoons good mustard (grainy or smooth, or 1 teaspoon of each)
1/3 cup plus 1 tablespoon olive oil
sea salt and black pepper to taste
METHOD:
Rinse the brussels sprouts in a colander. Trim off the stems with a paring knife. Peel off and discard a few of the darker outer leaves from each brussels sprout. Use the remaining inner leaves for the salad, peeling them off one by one. This can be a little tedious. Because the leaves are wrapped tightly around the sphere of the sprout, I have found it easier to remove them if I cut the sprout in half length-wise, before peeling off the leaves.
Make the salad dressing by combining the ingredients in a small jar, and shaking it for about 30 seconds.
Meanwhile, toast the walnuts in the oven for about 10-15 minutes at 300F. I tend to toast my walnuts until they’re fairly dark because the nutty flavor intensifies. When toasted, roughly chop the walnuts and scatter them over the brussels sprout leaves. Shave the parmesan on top.
Pour some of the dressing over the salad and toss.
I’m joining the cool kids, and am beginning to learn how to grow vegetables in the backyard. This week, a few of the eggplants look ready, so I wanted to find a delicate eggplant recipe to highlight a super-fresh vegetable pulled right from the garden.
After perusing all of my Middle Eastern cookbooks, I happened upon this Paula Wolfert recipe from The Cooking of the Eastern Mediterranean. Her long introduction to this recipe was exuberant and poetic, and I knew that if the stew made her this electric, then I would love it as well. Paula first tasted this dish at a conference in Greece on traditional Greek food-ways, at a special Lenten meal accompanied by clerical prayers, candles, and ancient Christian music.
This dish takes some time to cook — 2 1/2 hours in the oven, or all day in a crock pot – but is pretty easy to assemble. The advantage of slow-cooking is that the delicate eggplant softens to melt in your mouth, and you don’t have to worry about last-minute kitchen management before supper. I enjoyed smelling this cook all afternoon while I read textbooks in the next room. If you like something like a French ratatouille, this is somewhat similar in terms of ingredients, but is far superior and delicate because of the slow-cooking. The flavors have time to marry and soften.
Note that you’ll need to plan ahead and soak your dried chickpeas overnight. You could used canned chickpeas in a pinch, but the dried chickpeas have a better texture, and are cheaper. Paula Wolfert says the ultimate version of this stew is achieved from baking the stew in an earthenware pot, but I think most of us don’t own clay pots, or at least not yet. I baked mine in an enamed cast iron pot (Le Creseut) and it was lovely.
The large pepper and hot chili provide an appropriate soft echo of heat. Along with the eggplant, I was also able to use a larger pepper and a smaller chili (jalapeno) from the garden as well.
MACEDONIAN EGGPLANT AND CHICKPEA STEW
1/2 pound chickpeas, soaked overnight
1-pound eggplant
coarse salt
1/4 cup olive oil
2 cups chopped onions
1 large green frying pepper
2 1/2 teaspoons chopped long green chili
1 1/2 teaspoons garlic
2 cups canned tomatoes with juice
1/2 cup chopped parsley
1 teaspoon oregano
1 bay leaf
METHOD
Drain the chickpeas after soaking overnight. Place in a saucepan, add fresh water to cover, bring to a boil, and simmer, covered, over low heat until half-cooked, about 45 minutes. Set aside.
Meanwhile, peel the eggplant and cut into 1-inch cubes. Sprinkle lightly with salt and let stand in a colander to draw off excess moisture, about 45 minutes. Set aside.
Chop the onions. Chop both the large pepper and small chili into small pieces. Peel and crush the garlic with pinch of salt. I used a mortar and pestle for this.
Preheat the oven to 300F (if baking instead of using a crock pot).
Heat the oil in a 12-inch skillet. Add the onions, frying pepper, and chili. Stir 3 minutes. Add the eggplant and saute without browning it, 2 more minutes. Add the garlic, tomatoes with juice, parsley, oregano, and 1 teaspoon coarse salt. Cook at a simmer 10 minutes, stirring often.
In a 4-quart oven-proof cast iron pot, bean pot, clay casserole, or crock pot, mix the chickpeas, 1 3/4 cups of their cooking liquid, the bay leaf, and the contents of the skillet. Cover and bake in the oven 2 1/2 hours, or alternatively all day in the crock pot. The aroma will be extremely fragrant, and the chickpeas very tender. Remove the lid and bake 10 minutes more to allow excess moisture to evaporate.
This stew is so completely satisfying that Paula Wolfert suggests that it only needs to be accompanied by dense, chewy bread. I served it with a rice pilaf today.
Indian Green Peas with Pan-Fried Cheese
Finally a mutter paneer recipe that is spicy and assertive enough for my table. I have to admit that in the past I had grown to avoid this classic dish, because restaurant versions are so bland. Luckily I recently discovered this recipe which demands a serious amount of fresh chiles and ginger.
I found this recipe in Raghavan Iyer’s heavy tome of a cookbook called 660 Curries. Over the past few months, this cookbook has captured my heart. Not only are its options inexhaustible, but each recipe I’ve assembled has been surprisingly phenomenal. I promise to share other recipes soon (like his sensational mustard-green-saag paneer and his fresh corn with curry leaves).
For those of you unfamiliar with paneer, it’s a dense Indian cheese that holds its shape when folded into hot curries. It is often pan-fried before being added to curries (although many Indian restaurants cut corners by tossing in small cold cubes). You can find paneer in Indian groceries, and some Arab markets in my area carry it as well. In a pinch, I confess that I’ve substituted the salty haloum cheese from Cyprus. It was unorthodox, but tasty.
This recipe is so addictive that you might want to double the recipe, and share leftovers with friends all week.
MUTTER PANEER
1 small red onion, coarsely chopped
3 lengthwise slices fresh ginger (each 1 1/2 inches long, 1 inch wide, and 1/8 inch thick)
3 large garlic cloves
2 fresh green chiles (Thai, cayenne or serrano), stems removed, but seeds intact
2 tablespoons canola oil
1 teaspoon whole cumin seeds
1 bay leaf
1 Cup tomato sauce, canned or homemade
2 tablespoons garam masala
1 teaspoon coarse kosher salt or sea salt
1 1/2 Cups frozen peas (no need to thaw)
1/4 Cup heavy whipping cream (or half-and-half)
8 ounces paneer
1/4 cup canola oil for frying the paneer
METHOD:
1. Combine the onion, ginger, garlic, and chiles in a food processor, and pulse until they are minced.
2. Heat 2 tablespoons of canola oil in a medium-size saucepan over medium-high heat. Sprinkle in the cumin seeds and bay leaf, and cook until the cumin sizzles, turns reddish brown, and smells nutty, 5-10 second. Immediately add the minced onion blend and stir-fry until it is light reddish brown, 5-7 minutes.
3. Stir in the tomato sauce, garam masala, and salt. The sauce will quickly start to bubble up and splatter, so lower the heat to medium. Simmer the sauce, partially covered, stirring occasionally, until some oil appears on the surface and around the edges, providing a glistening sheen, 5-10 minutes.
4. Pour in 1/4 Cup water and add the frozen peas.
Cover the pan and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the peas are tender and olive green in color, 8-10 minutes.
5. In the meantime, prepare the paneer. Cut the paneer into 1-inch cubes. To pan-fry them, heat 1/4 cup canola oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium heat. Add the cubes in a single layer and cook, turning them occasionally, until all sides are honey-brown and crispy, 7-10 minutes. Transfer them to a paper-towel-lined plate to drain.
6. Fold the cream (or half-and-half) and paneer into the peas.
Cover the pan and simmer, occasionally stirring gently, until the cream and cheese have warmed through, about 5 minutes.
7. Remove the bay leaf and serve.
Filed under: Food-Focused Travelogues
A food-focused travelogue of my recent China trip.
I recently spent two weeks in China as part of a delegation from my grad school, Fuller Seminary. Through a big grant, they send teams of alumns, professors, and students to China about four times a year to build relationships with universities, seminaries, and churches there. I went on one of these trips last summer as well, and wrote out a similar food-focused travelogue for that trip. I’ve been involved with this program because I previously lived in China for 2.5 years. On this recent trip, we visited Shanghai, Nanjing, Beijing, and Hong Kong, and I presented a paper I had written. I also enjoyed visiting several friends who live in China.
Of course I ate well. This is ample evidence that you can eat well in China as a vegetarian.
I’ll start with salads and appetizers.
This was a great chilled appetizer of wilted spinach with peanuts. The combination of the greens with peanuts was fantastic, and I plan on making variations of this at home.
I ordered these cold spicy noodles for the group at one meal, and later overheard a few folks complaining about how weird they were. These grey-colored noodles are made from yam starch, and are chewy and also slimy since they are coated in vinegary chili sauce. It’s a flavor and texture that makes most American queezy, but I’m crazy about them because I used to live in Sichuan where cold, spicy noodles like this were found everywhere as street food. I soon grew to crave this cold, chewy, spicy stuff. My other expat friends in Sichuan know what I’m talking about. When I would visit my friends in Nanchong, we would get cold spicy noodles stuffed inside hot and crispy whole wheat pitas as late-night street food. I loved the contrast of textures (slimy versus crunchy). When I departed for this recent China trip, my friend Christina (who used to live in Chongqing) told me to eat some cold noodles. And here I was in Beijing eating cold spicy noodles, and I pretty much had the bowl to myself.
Cold rice noodles with sesame dipping sauce. This was a more refined version of Sichuan street food. These noodles aren’t vinegary or spicy, so the flavor is more mild and palatable.
Deconstructed salad = spears of lettuce ready to be dipped in sesame dressing.
Fava bean salad marinated with sour preserved vegetables.
A similar sour preserved vegetable salad made with soy beans instead of fava beans.
We had this chilled eggplant salad topped with garlic at FuDan University’s restaurant. It was soft enough to melt in your mouth, with the bright addition of garlic as a garnish. FuDan University on the outskirts of Shanghai is considered the #3 university in China (you know, like Princeton). That’s where I gave my presentation on theodicy to the religion department faculty. You can easily guess that I was intimidated.
Salads are more common now in China at fancier restaurants. It’s hard for me to wrap my head around the idea of salad in China, having lived there a long time ago, when you never saw raw foods or salads (because of tradition as well as safety). This was a frisee salad with preserved vegetables instead of a dressing.
Here we see eggplant cylinders filled with spikes of fresh bamboo. This artistic plating was a bit silly.
This was a garlicky green pea puree made into a round mold, then stuffed with something shredded.
These strips of tofu skin were tied in adorable little knots, and marinated with peppers as a salad. Love this.
Here is some plain doufu (tofu) gan, as a dried tofu leather appetizer. Simple and clean. In Sichuan, they would say that regular soft tofu looks like the pale delicate skin of young women, and that dried tofu leather (like the photo) is darker and firmer like the rough and sturdy skin of men. When friends in Sichuan would ask about my favorite Chinese foods, I usually forgot this metaphor, and would often said I liked to eat tofu. This invariably caused students and friends to snicker, because it sounded like I enjoyed the delicate skin of young girls. Then I would remember the joke, and quickly change my answer to dried tofu instead, or really any vegetable I could think of to get them to stop laughing.
These egg rolls utilized tofu skin as the crunchy wrapping, and were filled with mushrooms, carrots, and peppers.
Chilled enoki mushroom salad with bell peppers. Little cuties.
Slices of lotus root stuffed with sweet sticky rice. This is pretty, but not my favorite way with lotus root since I don’t have a sweet tooth. I generally prefer lotus root prepared in the dry-fried or “ganbian” style with chilies, or else vinegary with lots of garlic.
I went out to vegetarian dim sum in Hong Kong with friends there, at the Three Virtues Vegetarian Restaurant on Nathan Road in Kowloon. I’d recommend it to anyone living in or visiting Hong Kong. The food was delicious and light, and the restaurant was bustling and cheap. This wonton soup there was my favorite dish. The wonton filling was gingery and crunchy.
Veggie Dim Sum Item #2: Egg Rolls filled with crispy taro.
Veggie Dim Sum Item #3: Japanese-style gyoza with spinach
Veggie Dim Sum: Lettuce Wraps, with a filling of pine nuts and mushrooms. I totally want to make this at home.
Veggie Dim Sum: Two kinds of delicate dumplings.
Veggie Dim Sum: Vegetarian fake meatballs.
Veggie Dim Sum: A variety of steamed buns.
Veggie Dim Sum: Here is a big dumping filled with vegetarian fake shark’s fin and fake abalone. It’s a fun idea, but I prefered the other wontons in soup that didn’t try to be fish. In the background you’ll see a rice-based savory pancake with olive leaves of all things, apparently. It reminds me of the flavor of Korean pancakes.
Veggie Dim Sum: Flaky pastry filled with daikon. This was quite interesting and tasty.
Here I am drinking jasmine tea at the end of our great vegetarian dim sum experience. Now let’s move on past the appetizers and salads!
Here is a perfect version of hot and sour stir-fried potato slivers (suanla tudou si). Most Americans don’t think of potatoes as a traditional Chinese vegetable, but this side dish is definitely one of the most common all over China. This hot and sour version is more popular Sichuan, but other areas of China would stir-fry the potatoes with things like garlic and leeks. The flavor of this is earthy and addictive. I got Jen (the other vegetarian on the trip) hooked on these.
This sweet Minzu University student from Gansu province made me a vegetarian version of mushu pork. He took one of those delicate Chinese pancakes, and wrapped it around a bundle of the hot and sour potatoes. So thoughtful.
Joy is showing Dr. Hanciles how to wrap something in a delicate Chinese pancake, in a method that works like something like mushu pork. This was a refined version of the wraps, with the ingredients displayed on a wooden rack on the table. Dr. Hanciles looks skeptical.
Here’s a pretty photo of ganbian sijidou — the classic dry-fried green beans. This one has a good sear, and plenty of chilies.
Bok choi with dark mushrooms is a classic, classic combo.
Another take on bok choi with mushrooms. This time they’re stirred together, and the button mushrooms are sliced horizontally.
A pretty plate Chinese broccoli (gailan).
Here’s an unusual combination of wilted spinach with wedges of fresh bamboo that were darkened with soy and vinegar.
Broccoli stir-fried with garlic.
Garlicky spinach (bo cai) at Nanjing Union Seminary.
Spinach with fava beans in Hong Kong.
In the same vein as garlicky spinach, here is garlicky morning glory (kong xin cai), literally “hollow heart vegetable” because the stems are hollow. I ate this several times on the trip. Jen and I were so happy being vegetarians in China! We both admitted later that we loved eating together just the two of us without the rest of the group because we didn’t have to share our vegetarian dishes with others. We could just graze on greens and spicy stir-fried potatoes.
Stirfried lettuce with garlic is totally fine, but not necessarily my favorite garlicky Chinese green. It doesn’t have as much flavor as spinach or morning-glory.
At Nanjing Seminary, the sweet and charming cook remembered me as a vegetarian from my visit last summer. She brought out as many vegetarian dishes as she could, and finished with this stellar soup, chrysanthemum leaf and egg flower soup. She said it’s a speciality of the city, and isn’t made outside of Nanjing. I love the strong green flavor of chrysanthemum leaves, because you can taste the vitamins in the dark leaves. This light soup is clean and restorative, and I could eat it everyday.
You’ve gotta love black fungus. It’s chewy, funny, and super-rich in vitamins. It’s one of the things that Chinese grandmas recommend when people are feeling under the weather. It apparently is full of iron and makes your blood “strong.”
On our last day in Beijing, Jen and I happened upon a vegan restaurant called Phoenix Vegan. We ate very well here, and ordered this dish in the photo. I’m assuming that “Pastoral When Greenstuffs” means that we feel peaceful when we eat green things?
Our dish looked exactly like the menu photo. It was a variety of mushrooms, including delicious big orange ones that look and taste like chanterelles, as well as white fungus, which is one of my favorites. This dish also included a scattering of fresh bamboo.
The Beijing restaurant Phoenix Vegan makes this stellar mushroom and spinach dish on sizzling rice. We simply had to order it because it’s awfully difficult to find vegetarian dishes on sizzling rice. That’s usually reserved for meat.
At Phoenix Vegan, we ordered these vegan wontons, that were served in a dark Japanese-style seaweed-based broth. This wonton soup was rich, complex, and restorative.
These are little log-shaped croquettes of mashed yam, about the size of a thumb. I’m not sure what kind of powder they’re rolled in to become purple on the outside. They have a mild, sweet flavor, and function as a decent side dish in a large meal.
Ganbian (dry-fried) radish. I’m used to eating dry-fried potatoes with chilies and huajiao (Sichuan peppercorns), but the radish version was new to me. They look like spicy french fries, but maybe they’re healthier?
I’m so crazy about “hua jiao” (Sichuan peppercorns) that I scraped these leftover bits onto my rice. These are the peppercorns that are a pinkish-brown color, and make your mouth slightly numb as if you’ve been eating detergent. Huajiao are scattered on numerous Sichuan dishes, so when I moved there years ago, it took me a few weeks to get used to it. I quickly got addicted to them however, and soon started ordering dishes with “extra” huajiao. Maybe I’m crazy, but I think they’re fun.
Here is a perfect, delicate eggplant dish. It’s sautéed with garlic, chilies, and a handful of green beans. I love simple garlicky Chinese eggplant dishes. The eggplant is so pillow-soft that it melts in your mouth.
We were brought this plate of fresh bamboo shoots as an apology for getting our order wrong.
Spicy tofu with lots of fresh chilies and ginger.
We had this tofu at a Chinese-Islamic restaurant in Beijing. This didn’t have the complex flavors of a mapo doufu, but was rather clean and straightforward in its spiciness.
Tofu skin was cut into noodles, and served with soy beans and sour preserved vegetables. This brings the experience of umami to life.
We ordered this vegetarian version of Chinese-Islamic hand-cut noodles. The sauce almost tasted Italian with the tomatoes, bell peppers, onions, and garlic. It’s the same flavor as the vegetarian Muslim noodles I used to eat in Wanxian, except that this particular place in Beijing added scrambled eggs. So delicious. I heard that others in our group went back to this restaurant 2 more times for these noodles, and then I got jealous! I guess I was spending most of my free time in contemporary art galleries, and missing out on noodles…
I ordered this salad version of Korean bimibap in a cute restaurant in Beijing’s 798 arts district. Spicy and refreshing on a hot day.
I met up with my Fuller friend Peter in Beijing, and we went out for dumplings. These vegetarian wontons were filled with a classic combo of scrambled eggs and leeks. Very tasty. I had been craving dumplings, and this hit the spot.
These scrambled eggs had a similar flavor as the wontons just above. They eggs were scrambled with sour preserved vegetables, and have a mild and earthy flavor. This was a lovely combination, although I’m not sure if I would make it at home myself.
I ordered Japanese udon noodles stir fried with bell peppers and onions at a tepanyaki joint in Nanjing.
Later, the tepanyaki chef made a scallion pancake on the grill.
I ordered these Cantonese vegetables at a Hong Kong diner one day for lunch. The best thing about this bland type of Cantonese food is that there are usually a decent selection of chili sauces on the table! This dish is quite pretty, but tastes as plain as the mixed vegetable dish at Bill-Lee’s restaurant in downtown Bakersfield. I have to admit however that the mushrooms here are more varied and interesting, including oyster mushrooms and black fungus. And you know I love fungus.
Here is a dark and blurry photo of a fantastic Indian meal in Hong Kong. I went out for dinner and drinks with my friend Mike and some of his friends from his Cantonese class. Hong Kong typically has stellar Indian food, and this place was no exception. The dishes were spicy and flavorful, and the chutneys were delicious. We had dum aloo, which literally means “breathed-in” potatoes, and typically has large pieces of potato that are pan-fried, and then cooked slowly in a spicy and nutty sauce. This version of dum aloo consisted of potato croquettes stuffed with nuts, raisins, and cheese, then fried and simmered in a complex sauce. We also had a yellow dal, mattar paneer, and garlic naan.
Sometimes in China if there aren’t many vegetarian options on a menu, I simply ask the waitress for egg fried rice with vegetables. It’s a trustworthy back-up plan. Here’s a version in Nanjing with scrambled eggs, spinach, green onions, and ginger. Totally comforting. I got Jen hooked on egg fried rice on the trip. At home, I made egg fried rice for breakfast quite often.
In Hong Kong I ordered this egg and vegetable fried rice at a little neighborhood diner. It was filled with thin horizontal slices of gailan (Chinese broccoli). It’s normal in those Hong Kong diners to sit together with strangers because of the cramped space. After I had been eating about 5 minutes, two cute Hong Kong girls were seated at my table, and one exclaimed, “Oo-ooh! That looks good!! What is that?” And they proceeded to order the same thing.
This fried rice in Hong Kong was flavored with spicy pickled vegetables (pao cai). This is a fun way to incorporate pao cai into meal. Think of spicy kimchee, but without the foundation of fish flavor.
Cong you bing (tsong yo bing), which means it’s a round roll made with green onions and fried in oil. These are tasty when hot and fresh.
The “jian bing” is a classic breakfast street food in Nanjing. It’s a thin Chinese pancake coated with scrambled egg on the inner lining, then rolled around a “you tiao” (salty donut stick), preserved vegetables, green onions, and chili sauce. I love the strong combination of flavors, and ate this every morning in Nanjing. However, I couldn’t really convince the rest of the group to dig preserved vegetables and chili sauce first thing in the morning. I tend to like savory and spicy foods for breakfast, so I’m into this.
On my first morning in Beijing, I woke up early and scoured the neighborhood, doing reconnaissance work to find the best breakfast street food. I tried about 10 joints, and spent less than 2 USD total. Most things were pretty mediocre, so I ate only 1 bite before throwing them away while I walked, but this place was the clear winner. It was a small stall where they were baking flaky Chinese Islamic breakfast pastries, rolling out the pastries behind the counter, layer by flaky layer. They were the size of biscuits, but far more flaky – almost as flaky as puff pastry. They were hot and fresh right out of the oven. They offered 8 varieties, some stuffed with slightly sweet black sesame paste, some with plum jam, others with sesame and honey, and one savory version with salt and pepper. Later that morning I brought the rest of the group back, and they agreed that it was an interesting and comforting breakfast. It became our group’s breakfast stop during our 4 days in Beijing.
The pastry stand was also popular with Minzu University students. This was the shortest line during my 4 days there. As I learned from Anthony Bourdain, street food is generally safe at places that are popular with locals.
On my first morning in Hong Kong, I ordered this breakfast combo at a little neighborhood diner near my friend’s apartment. The fried eggs, buttered toast, and coffee were all standard, but I was totally surprised that they were able to turn the oatmeal into congee! Congee-style porridge is a little slimy, and is something that I can eat sometimes, but not everyday. It’s decent with a little sugar.
On this trip, I drank pearl (boba) milk tea several times as a snack. This chain “Coco” was consistently good, and made some interesting teas and juices like jasmine milk tea with boba, and also lemonade with floating halves of little green kumquats.
This is the fancy way of drinking jasmine tea. The jasmine tea leaves are sewn into a chrysanthemum shape with a flower in the center, then dried into a tight ball. When the ball is immersed in the hot water, it slowly unfolds to create the chrysanthemum, and then the delicate flower emerges. It a slow, zen-like dinner theatre. I have one of these glass teapots, and make this fancy kind of jasmine for guests from time to time.
I love iced coffee in Hong Kong. I’m not necessarily thinking of iced coffee at Starbucks or Costa, or any of the Italian or American coffee places scattered across the city. Rather, I like the Vietnamese-style iced coffee with sweetened condensed milk that you find for half the price at the casual local diners. It’s yummy and refreshing. It’s the difference between sweetening the iced coffee with condensed milk vs. syrup. I got this iced coffee at a busy place in an alley while I relaxed with a novel.
A cute cucumber-twig garnish.
A garnish painted out of sauce.
When I arrived in Hong Kong, my friend Ramy gave me these Kello Kitty tomato-flavored sticks as a snack. I thought they were funny, and also a little bit yucky. They taste just like ketchup, so your opinion of them will depend on whether you like to eat ketchup… by itself. I wonder what other foods you could dip these sticks in, as a nice combo with ketchup flavor? Sorry Rames, don’t be sad – it was a super-cute idea!
