Easy Recipes

Its hard to know what to cook these days. Were not yet into the brown-leafed, squash-studded days of fall here in Portland, but at the same time its not really summer either. Weve been alternating between barbecue-ready sunny afternoons, and rainy cold days that make you wonder if its not too soon to dig out your wool sweaters. Hot soup? Cold salad? Hard to say.

This carrot and chard dish is one of my favorite recipes for these liminal days. Its a warm salad from the Moroccan tradition, pairing cooked carrots and chard with a bright herbal dressing. The recipe comes from Wolfgang Pucks contribution to The New York Times Passover Cookbook, and its graced our Passover table for the past two years. The seder meal is often a celebration of Spring, and sprightly spears of asparagus are a common choice. But its also right on the seasonal cusp, and depending upon the particulars of the Jewish calendar and the weather patterns, Passover can happen weeks before the chilly fields are even thinking about asparagus. This dish is a perfect choice for times like these, and not just because the shoulder crops of roots and greens are in season: the earthy/sweet carrots and rich chard provide a hearty, autumnal base, but the bright lemon juice and parsley perk things up with bright and sunny notes. On these strange days, when you wrap a thick cardigan around your sleeveless shirt, its the perfect recipe.


Moroccan Carrot and Chard Salad

adapted, heavily, from Wolfgang Pucks recipe in The New York Times Passover Cookbook (I roasted instead of simmered the carrots, upped the parsley, reduced the oil, and made a few other tweaks)

serves 4-6 as a side dish

2 lb carrots, peeled and cut on the diagonal into 1" chunks (or longer if you like a more dramatic presentation)
1/4 cup olive oil, divided
1 tsp ground cumin
1 large bunch (or two small bunches) Swiss chard, coarsely chopped (stems included)
1 clove garlic, pressed
zest and juice of 1 lemon
salt and pepper
1/2 large bunch (or 1 small bunch) flat-leaf parsley, chopped

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

Toss the carrots in a baking dish with 1 Tbsp of the olive oil, and sprinkle on the cumin and a few pinches of salt. Stir to coat the carrots with the oil and seasonings. Roast, stirring occasionally, until the carrots are soft and caramelizing on the edges, about 25-30 minutes (adjust the time depending upon how well-caramelized you like your carrots). Remove from the oven and set aside.

While the carrots are roasting, steam the chard in a steamer basket until wilted and soft, about 5-10 minutes. If you dont have a steamer basket, you can just simmer the chard for a few minutes in a large pot of boiling water, then drain well. Set aside.

In the meanwhile, make the dressing: mix together the remaining olive oil, garlic, and lemon juice and zest, and season with salt and pepper to taste. Place the carrots on a serving dish, top with the chard and parsley, and then pour the dressing over everything. You can toss to combine, or leave as is, like a composed salad. Serve warm. Its even nicer as the flavors sit and combine, but I seldom wait that long.

Ingredients

• 2 carrots
• 2 large green or red apples
• 1/3 cup of raisins
• 2 tablespoons of chopped almonds
• 1/2 a lemon of lemon juice
• 1 tablespoon of honey or sugar

Kitchen Utensils

• 1 large bowl
• 1 grater or food processor
• 1 knife
• 1 cutting board
• 1 potato peeler
  

Preparation
1)  Add into a bowl a half a cup of lemon juice and honey
2) Wash and core 2 large fresh apples.  Peeling the apples are optional. Grate (coarse or fine) the apples on a grater into the bowl of lemon juice.  The lemon juice keeps the sliced apples from turning brown. Mix the apples quickly in the bowl.
3) Wash and peel the carrots. Grate the carrots on a coarse or fine part of the grater in a large bowl. Another option is to use a food processor and transfer to a bowl. Mix everything in the bowl.
4) Add both the raisins and the almonds.  Mix everything in the bowl
5) Taste and add in some more honey if you think more is required.
6) Pop the salad into the fridge until you need to serve it.

 You now have a delicious apple and carrot salad!!!

I dont always travel well. I try to be game for lifes adventures and experiences, but more often than not find myself overcome for a powerful longing for the pleasures of home -- namely my dog and my contoured neck-supporting pillow. And fresh vegetables.

At various times in my office-bound life, I have been part of lunch collectives. I got the idea several years ago, when I was working at NYU and watched some of the grad students in a neighboring lab try to save their meager grad student wages by having lunch together every week. Each day, one student took a turn bringing in food for the group, and then the five of them would cycle through again the next week. Cooking for five twenty-something mouths is definitely a big undertaking. But when you average it over the week, you ultimately end up cooking less, saving money, and eating better.

In years since, Ive brought this practice to bear in a couple of my workplaces. Usually its been limited to once or twice a week, to accommodate varying schedules and available leftovers. But its still a win-win proposition: after establishing the initial ground rules (various food allergies, restrictions, and common definitions of healthy food (we end up being fond of both fruits, vegetables and butterfat)), you sit down with your coworkers to enjoy a delicious glimpse into someone elses kitchen. Even if the meal is nothing more than a homemade soup and salad, its still miles better than the greasy takeout options in walking distance. But for me, really, it comes down to something else: an excuse to indulge in some dairy.

Living with a someone whos lactose intolerant, Im probably much healthier than I would be if left to my own devices. But Im also left with a powerful craving for cream. Last week I made this soup for lunch club, which fulfills both dietary preferences at once: on its own, it is vegetal and lovely, with sweetly soft-cooked fennel and carrots touched with a bit of fresh orange juice. But for others (like myself and my lunch club), stirring in just the tiniest bit of sour cream gives it a lovely, complex, barely-there tang, giving its lightness a bit of balancing heft. I felt compelled to round out my lunch club contribution with a batch of broccoli-cheese knishes and some cookies (were still in the impress-the-co-workers first round), but it would be lovely on its own, with just a bit of crusty bread and a salad if you want.

And I must belatedly amend last weeks post: I talked about a dramatic chocolate dessert, and lamented that, barring this confection, my life tends to be free of sitcom-worthy drama. But while away at the beach this weekend, I was reminded of a jaunt to a friends parents beachfront cottage last year, wherein one of the guests used hand dishwashing soap instead of the meant-for-machines version in the dishwasher. Acres of suds spilled across the floor. To be fair, the machine didnt walk itself across the kitchen, nor did this occur as we were frantically trying to clean up after throwing an ill-fated party while our parents were out of town. But still: drama!


Creamy (or not) Carrot Fennel Soup

tweaked from Amanda Hesser in The New York Times
yields 2 quarts

2 Tbsp olive oil
2 medium fennel bulbs, washed and thinly-sliced
3 lbs carrots, peeled and sliced into fat coins
2 cloves garlic, thickly sliced
~ 6 cups water or stock (or half of each) - honestly I forgot to measure this ingredient, and details on freestyling are below
1 tsp salt
1/3 cup fresh-squeezed orange juice
dash maple syrup
1/4 cup sour cream
salt and white pepper to taste

Heat the oil in a large soup pot over a medium flame. Add the fennel, carrots and garlic and cook, stirring occasionally, until they soften and just start to color (~10-20 minutes, depending on how large your pot is). Add the water/stock until it just covers the vegetables. Bring to a boil, and then lower the heat until its just high enough to maintain a simmer. Simmer uncovered until the carrots are meltingly tender, ~45 minutes. Longer doesnt hurt.

Let the soup cool slightly, and puree in batches (I prefer it just shy of smooth). Place it back in the pot, and add additional broth/water as needed to get a nice consistency. Add the orange juice, maple syrup, sour cream, and salt and pepper to taste. Serve hot.

 
Portland, like much of the country, is totally abloom with spring. There are pale pink cherry blossoms scattering their little hole-punch petals everywhere, and rosy fat camellias dropping onto the front steps until I literally have to sweep them away with a broom. Everywhere you look, the colors just about knock you out (especially offset, as they seem to be this time of year, by the alternating dark rainclouds and shafts of sunlight). And I find myself wanting a splash of color on the plate as well.

This salad feels just like spring — the winter-long bunch of kale with its new blossoms (though standard non-flowering kale also works quite well), the bouncy bits of quinoa, overly-symbolic egg, and a sweet carrot coriander vinaigrette tying it together like a splash of sunshine.

And beyond its springtime-on-a-plate beauty, this salad is just plain good. The sunny sweetness of the dressing is a perfect match for the slightly bitter greens and grassy quinoa, and the egg and nuts move it into full-on complete-meal status. And, as the spring rains dump on Portland (and knock down more camellia flowers), its nice to have a little sunshine for lunch.


Quinoa Kale Salad with Carrot Coriander Vinaigrette

adapted from Gluten-Free Girl
serves 4-5

This dressing is a bit of a fuss, with reducing the carrot juice, but its so crazy good. The post I pulled it from also mentioned serving it on rice, chicken — even quesadillas. Next time Im making a double batch.

Dressing:
2 teaspoons whole coriander seeds
2 cups carrot juice
1 shallot, peeled and sliced
1/4 cup mild vinegar, such as sherry or champaigne
3/4 cup olive oil
2 tablespoons chopped cilantro
salt & pepper

Salad:
1 1/2 cups quinoa
a bunch kale (flowering kale, also sold is kale raab, is nice if you can find it), chopped into bite-sized pieces
4-5 eggs
1 large handful toasted pine nuts or almonds

To make the dressing: Heat a medium pot over a medium heat. Add the coriander seeds, and dry-toast, shaking the pot occasionally, until they become fragrant, ~3 minutes. Pour in the carrot juice and the shallot, raise the heat until it boils, then reduce to a simmer. Cook, scraping the sides once or twice so they dont scorch, until the carrot juice reduces to just 1/4 cup, ~15-20 minutes. Let cool slightly.

Pour the mixture into a blender, along with the vinegar and olive oil, and blitz until the shallot is pureed and the mixture is emulsified. Add the cilantro, whir to combine, then season to taste with salt and pepper. Set aside.

To make the rest of the salad: Bring 3 cups of salted water to a boil. Add the quinoa, and reduce heat until its just high enough to maintain a simmer. Cover, and simmer for 10 minutes, then add the kale and recover. Cook together for another 5 minutes, then turn off the heat and let sit for 5 minutes. If you prefer, you can also cook the kale separately (which requires a bit more fussing, but does a better job of preserving its bright green color and gives you more control over the cooking process): bring a large pot of water to a boil, then add the kale and cook for a minute or two, until it turns bright green and crisp-tender. Drain the pot, and shock the kale in cold water to shock the cooking. Drain and set aside.

While the quinoa is cooking, place the eggs in a small pot and cover with water. Bring to a boil, then turn off the heat, cover, and let sit for 10 minutes. After 10 minutes, cool off the eggs with cold water, then peel and set aside.

To serve, mound the quinoa and kale in individual bowls or a serving bowl. Break the eggs into rough pieces with your hands, and scatter them over the top, along with the nuts. Dress generously, and dig in.

Every now and then people express concern at the prospect of cooking for a food writer, as though our standards and expectations exceed the home cooking realm. And I think oh, if only they could see what I eat. I mean sure, I eat well. But its often ridiculously simple. An omelet with garlic bread. A container of vegetable soup thawed from the freezer. A pound of roasted Brussels sprouts and a dish of pudding. This is not the stuff of Instagram dreams and restaurant menus. This is the stuff of humbly delicious daily life.

And its good stuff. There can be truly something transformative about a bowl of vegetable soup, even mushy from the freezer. But every now and then, you make something that is just on another plane entirely. Something that employs a few cheffy tricks and techniques, that takes some time and fussing but just elevates the ingredients to a different level entirely.  Like this carrot salad.

I have long been a fan of salads with roasted carrots, and recently served a Moroccan version to a dinner party of 18 people. But this carrot salad — oh, this is something else entirely. The carrots are left dramatically whole, par-boiled and then rolled in a garlicky spice paste, and roasted under a few chunks of citrus. Then the sweetly caramelized roasted lemon and orange are juiced, and that juice gets mixed with a sharper shot of fresh citrus, for a truly transformative dressing. Then come buttery chunks of avocado, tangy sour cream (or, if youre me with leftovers, Middle Eastern lebneh), and a surprising crunchy sprinkle of seeds.

The end result is rich and buttery and sharp and vegetal and creamy and crunchy all at once. Its truly extraordinary. And yes, I still appreciate my sloppy soups and mashed potatoes for dinner. But once in a while, its nice to really bring it, to show what a dish can be. And to keep all the civilians on their toes.


Roasted Carrot and Avocado Salad

adapted from ABC Kitchen, as posted on Daily Candy and further adapted by Sassy Radish
serves 4

For the Crunchy Seeds:
¼ cup sunflower seeds
¼ cup raw pumpkin seeds
¼ cup white sesame seeds

For the Salad:
1 pound medium carrots, peeled
1 teaspoons cumin seeds (toasted if you like)
3 garlic cloves
1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves
¼ teaspoon chile flakes
1 1/2 teaspoons coarse salt
3/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 1/2 oranges, halved
2 lemons, halved
1 avocado, halved, pitted, peeled and cut into thin wedges
¼ cup sour cream or lebneh/Greek-style yogurt
3 cups micro greens or sprouts (I used about 1/3 cup of flowering tips and delicate herbs from a local salad mix)

Toast the seeds: Preheat the oven to 350° Fahrenheit, and spread the seeds on a baking sheet. Toast, stirring occasionally, until lightly toasted and starting to color, but not golden brown (~5-7 minutes). Set aside to cool, leaving the oven on.

While youre toasting the seeds, bring a large pot of water to a boil. Add the carrots and simmer until a knife pierces them easily, about 15 minutes. Drain and transfer to a roasting pan.

In a mortar and pestle or food processor, pound together the cumin seeds, garlic, thyme, chili flakes, 1 1/2 teaspoons of the salt, and pepper. Pound until crushed and pasty, then add the vinegar and 1/4 cup of the olive oil, mixing to combine. Pour over the carrots, and shake them around until theyre well-coated.

Place 2 of the orange halves and two of the lemon halves on top of the carrots, cut side down. Roast until the carrots are golden brown, ~25 minutes.

When cool enough to handle, squeeze the roasted orange and lemon juice out, and squeeze the juice from the fresh citrus. Measure out 1/4 cup of this mixture (I drank the rest), mix in the remaining two tablespoons olive oil, and salt and pepper to taste.

Arrange the roasted carrots on four plates, and drizzle with a bit of dressing. Divide the avocado and sprouts on top, add more dressing, then top with a dollop of sour cream and sprinkle with the seeds. Serve.