Dancing to a Turkish Beet: Beet and Carrot Tzatziki

It's almost March. Well, okay, it's almost late February. In Portsmouth, the chickadees, cardinals, and bluebirds are singing their spring songs. But both there and in Boston, there's still lots of snow on the ground. And it's not that pretty fluffy, white stuff. No, this snow is hard as cement and grey as the sky is all too frequently these days. All this leaves me yearning for colorful, wild, tasty ways to use some of the vegetables from our Heron Pond Winter CSA.

I'd roasted some beets over the weekend to use in a salad with winter greens, walnuts, and Maytag blue cheese. There were leftover beets, but alas, no walnuts, greens, or Maytag blue. And as dinner itself was leftovers -- Paula Wolfert's Lazy Lady Bulgar Pilaf, with lamb, pistachios, and walnuts, (the last of the walnuts, mind you) -- I wanted something that would add both some color and a fresh taste to the meal.

The night before, I'd served the pilaf with a cucumber tzatziki, so I guess I was thinking in that vein when I remembered that Ana Sortun, owner and chief chef of Oleana, one of my favorite restaurants in the greater Boston area, has a recipe for a tzatziki made from beets in her cookbook, Spice: Flavors of the Eastern Mediterranean. After a quick perusal of the fridge, I determined I not only had everything I needed to make that recipe, but some CSA carrots as well.

Is there such a thing as a beet and carrot tzatziki?
The quick answer is yes, indeed. I used it as a dressing of sorts for a salad of the remaining roasted beets. It was quite delicious, if decidedly neon. Kind of like a gorgeous late February sunset over Sagamore Creek!

Beet Salad with Beet and Carrot Tzatziki
Adapted from Spice: Flavors of the Eastern Mediterranean, by Ana Sortun

Ingredients
2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice, or to taste
1 teaspoon finely chopped garlic
1 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups hole milk yogurt or sheep's milk yogurt (I used NH's own Brookford Farm non-fat yogurt, which I drained for 10 minutes.)
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
Black pepper
1 tablespoon chopped fresh dill
2 to 3 smallish raw carrots, peeled and grated
1 to 1 1/2 cups cooked shredded beets -- about two large or 4-5 golf ball size beets
1 large beet, sliced (See Note)
Feta cheese, crumbled

NOTE: For those who want a more subtle color, Sortun recommends chioggia (pink) or golden beets.
Beets can be boiled or roasted, but I'm partial to the latter. I cut off tops and tips, wrap in tin foil, and season with salt, thyme, -- if I have it on hand -- and olive oil. Put the beets in a 350-400 oven and roast until fork tender. They're relatively easy to peel once cooked, thought the red ones will stain your hands.

Instructions
1. Combine the lemon juice, garlic and salt in a bowl and let stand 10 minutes. (Sortun says this takes some of the heat out of the garlic.) Stir in the yogurt, olive oil, and pepper. Fold in the beets, carrots, and dill and re-season with salt and pepper if desired. Serve cold or at room temperature.

Delicata Balance: Persian-Inspired Squash

Now that winter is in full swing, our Heron Pond Farm CSA usually includes some form of winter squash. As someone who is not particularly fond of overly sweet dishes -- except of course, when they're desserts -- I'm always looking for interesting ways to serve this vegetable that don't involve brown sugar or maple syrup.

That's what was made this dish I found in Deborah Madison's Local Flavors: Cooking and Eating from America's Farmer's Market's  so intriguing. Borrowing on the Middle Eastern tradition of including dried fruit, nuts, and exotic spices in savory dishes, this recipe, which Madison calls "Persian-inspired", gets its sweetness from chopped dates. But these are softened by the addition of shallots, garlic, and lemon juice.

 The original recipe calls for butternut squash, but Madison says that Delicatas work just as well. Though we had both on hand, the latter are much easier to peel and slice -- and I thought their bright yellow hue would provide a colorful contrast to the other ingredients in the dish.

The smells from the oven as this dish bakes are heavenly. And it made me want to try adding other Middle Eastern, Asian, even Mexican-inspired spices and seasonings to squash as the winter season continues.


Delicata Squash Rounds with Dates and Pistachios

based on a recipe by Deborah Madison from

Local Flavors: Cooking and Eating from America's Farmer's Market's

Ingredients
2 -3 Delicata squash, or 1 butternut squash, about 3 pounds)
3 tablespoons olive oil
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 shallots, finely diced, about 1/3 cup
2 garlic cloves, minced
1/ 3 cup slivered almonds
1/3 cup peeled pistachios, preferably unsalted, slivered or chopped
1 tablespoon grated zest from 1 Meyer lemon or orange
6 Medjool or Deglet Noor dates, pitted and chopped
2 tablespoons finely chopped parsley
1 tablespoon chopped mint
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
Juice of 1 Meyer lemon or 1 Persian lemon

Instructions

1. Preheat the oven to 400°F. Lightly butter a large baking dish. Peel and slice the Delicatas sideways into 1/3 inch rounds, cutting the slices in half if the squash is particularly fat.  (If using a butternut, peel the neck of the squash and slice into rounds about 1/3 inch thick.)
2. Heat the olive oil in a wide nonstick skillet. Add the squash in a single layer and cook over medium heat until golden, then turn and brown the other side, 8 to 10 minutes per side. When the pan becomes dry add 1/3 cup water. Cover the pan and steam the squash until tender when pierced with a knife, about 10 minutes. Check while it’s cooking and add more water as needed. Season with salt and pepper.
3. Melt the butter in a medium skillet over medium-low heat. Add the shallots (or onion) and garlic and cook without browning, stirring occasionally, for 5 to 7 minutes. Ad the nuts, zest, dates, herbs, and cinnamon and raise the heat. Season with 1/2 teaspoon salt and some pepper. Cook, stirring frequently, for 2 minutes, then add lemon juice, cook for 1 minute more, and turn off heat.
4. Arrange squash rounds in the baking dish and scatter the dates and nuts over them. Add 1/4 cup water and bake until heated through and the topping is barely crisped, about 15 minutes.

Potato Salad: Why Not Think Pink

Maybe it's the fact that the temperature hit 90 degrees on Easter. Or that it seems I haven't needed a coat in weeks. Or that our chive plants in Portsmouth were flourishing in March.

Whatever the reason, I had a hankering for that old summer picnic standby, potato salad.

The night before, we'd rotisseried a couple of chickens outside on our Weber grill -- so there was cold chicken in the fridge. And we'd spent the morning at one of the last of the Seacoast Winter Farmers' Markets, so we had fresh greens from Heron Pond Farm for a salad. What could be a better accompaniment to an April alfresco lunch on the deck than a homemade potato salad? There was only one hitch: I knew the potatoes we had on hand were Adirondack Reds, the pink-fleshed relatives of the blue potatoes I wrote about last time. I wondered: could potato salad be pink?

The answer would probably have been "no" if I'd been thinking about the traditional American mayonnaise-based version. But I'd spent the past year or so trying to replicate the potato salad from Karl's Sausage Kitchen on Route 1 in Saugus, which with its vinegary, oniony taste, is my current gold standard. Sure, I could probably ask Karl's for their recipe, but then I'd miss all the fun of trying to figure it out myself.

Here's what I've come up with so far: first, onions should be minced, not chopped. Second, in order to get as much flavor into the potatoes as possible, I sprinkle a healthy amount of salt into the cooking water. (Is there such a thing as a healthy amount of salt?) Third, as soon as the potatoes can be handled after cooking, I slice them (leaving the skins on, because there are lots of nutrients there) and put them into some champagne or white wine vinegar, mixed with a little white wine. If I've minced the onions in the food processor, which I usually do for this, I also pour in the onion juice, frequently adding a little prepared horseradish as well. You'll have to rely on taste here, rather than a recipe, as much will depend on how pungent the onions are as well as the sharpness/sweetness of your vinegar. 

The hot potatoes will absorb this mixture, so once things have cooled down a bit, I give it all a taste -- this will help me decide how to make my viniagrette dressing. Are things too puckery bitter? I may want to add a little sugar. Too bland? Maybe a little dijon mustard, another pinch of salt, and some more horseradish. Once those decisions are made, I add the onions, dress the potatoes with a bit of my viniagrette, to which I've added only enough oil to give it body, plus a few twists of freshly ground pepper, and a big handful of those chives that started it all. 

You can eat this potato salad warm or cold, but I like it chilled just a little bit, so the flavors have time to meld. Now, don't you agree: there's nothing like pink potato salad served with cold chicken on a plate of greens to make you think summer. 

When Life Hands You Rutabagas, Make Rutabaga Fries

Last year, Robin, Dave, and I were part of an informal winter CSA with one of the farmers we met through the Seacoast Grower's Association. It was a little hit or miss -- sometimes we'd get to Portsmouth on Friday evening to find a bag of goodies handing from the doorknob -- often times, not. But there was something satisfying about having farmers' market-quality food throughout the winter, especially since this particular farmer had access to a greenhouse, so we frequently got a bag full of fresh greens as part of our order.

This year, we decided to make things more official, by joining the Winter CSA through Heron Pond Farm. Of course, this means dealing with vegetables we probably otherwise would never buy. Like rutabagas, for instance. Other than potatoes and raw carrots, we never ate much in the way of root vegetables when I was growing up. In fact, the first time I remember actually tasting rutabaga was one Thanksgiving when one of our guests brought some pureed rutabaga with peas. But on Week Two, our CSA share included two rutabagas.

As we were planning to grill a couple of grass-fed rib eye steaks from Wee Bit Farm for dinner, a puree seemed less than optimal. Since oven-baked sweet potato fries are a frequent accompaniment to steak in our house, we thought why not try serving the rutabagas that way? We peeled them, cut them into half-inch sticks, seasoned them with Penzey's Northwoods Fire Seasoning and a little olive oil, put them on a well-oiled baking sheet and baked them just like we would potatoes.

The Northwoods Fire Seasoning is a blend of coarse salt, chipolte pepper, Hungarian paprika, Tellicherry black pepper, garlic, rosemary, thyme, and cayenne, so it was a great complement to the sweet, spicy tast of the rutabaga. I think that chopped thyme or rosemary with some garlic powder would also be good.

While the rutabaga oven fried don't crisp up like regular regular potato fries, they don't get all soft like the sweet potato version either. When they browned up nicely, I just sprinkled them with a little coarse salt and served them up with our steaks. Quite frankly, they were delicious! Best of all, I now  feel ready for anything our CSA gives us. Kohlrabi? Bring it on!

Oven-Baked Rutabaga Fries
Ingredients
2 medium rutabagas, peel and cut into sticks 1/2 inch wide
Olive oil, for drizzling and coating baking pan
Penzey's Northwoods Fire Seasoning (or other spice blend) to taste
Kosher salt for sprinkling

Directions
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. Drizzle olive oil over rutabaga, put in a paper bag or plastic baggie, add seasonings and shake to coat.
3. Place rutabaga on a lightly oiled baking sheet and bake in middle of the oven for ten minutes.
4. Turn rutabaga fries over and cook for another ten minutes, or until well browned.
5. Sprinkle with kosher salt and serve.

As Corny as NH in October

It's mid October. The temperature is 20 degrees below normal. A nor'easter is heading up the coast. But there's still fresh sweet corn at the Seacoast Growers Market in Portsmouth and that makes me very happy.

For the few first weeks of the season, I can't get enough of corn on the cob. But then, I start to hunger for other ways to enjoy it. If there ever was a day that cried out for corn chowder, this is it, so Robin, Dave, and I picked up half a dozen ears from Heron Pond Farm's stand.

Normally, I'd start my chowder by frying up some local bacon, but we have ham left over from last week's ham and string beans, so I decide to use that. I like to make a "corn stock", by simmering the cobs in milk seasoned with onion, bay leaf, thyme, and sage. I decide to add the ham to the steeping milk mixture to warm it up and to add some smoky flavor to the stock. I take care, though, not to let the milk come to a boil.

As for a recipe, I quickly scan a few cook books with an eye toward creating the ultimate chowder experience. I discover an interesting technique in The Greens Cook Book by Deborah Madison; she thickens her chowder by pureeing half of the corn kernels in a blender before adding them to the soup. I like that idea, though I decide to first saute the corn with onions and some minced chili pepper before pureeing.

Once the milk has warmed up sufficiently and developed a nice smoky taste, I remove the corn cobs, add the uncooked corn kernels and the corn puree, simmering gently, until the corn is cooked and the soup is hot. We sit down to eat, oblivious to the cold outside and grateful to be enjoying the taste of fresh corn in October.

Corny Chowder with Ham

Ingredients

6 ears of corn

1 quart whole milk

1 large onion, diced

1 bay leaf

1 sage leaf

1 sprig thyme

2 cups cubed cooked ham

1 T butter

2 small hot Hungarian wax peppers, minced (optional)

Salt and pepper to taste

Directions

1. Slice the corn from the cob and set kernels aside in a bowl. Press knife to the cob to extract some of the milky liquid and add to bowl.

2. Cut cobs in half and put in a large sauce pan. Add the milk, half the chopped onion, bay, sage, and thyme to a large sauce pan and gently heat to a bare simmer, stirring frequently to keep stock from sitcking to pan. Do not let stock come to a boil.

3. While stock is heating, add butter, remaining half of the chopped onion, half the corn kernels and the minced chili to a saute pan and saute until fragrant and heated through. Add ham and remaining corn kernels to the stock, continuing to stir frequently.

4. Puree the sauted corn mixure in a blender for at least 2 minutes. If it is too thick, you can add a little water and puree some more.

5. Remove corn cobs and bay leaf from corn stock. Then add the corn puree to the stock. Put cobs in a bowl to capture any corn stock, then add to sauce pan.

6. Cook soup over low heat for 10 to 15 minutes. Check for salt (if the ham is salty enough, you may not need any.) Add some freshly ground pepper to taste.

Serves 4