The Inadvertent Gardener

Not long ago, Kalyn of Kalyn’s Kitchen posted a fabulous-looking recipe for chard stems. It had never occurred to me to cook chard stems separately from the rest of the chard—while I realize they’re tougher than the leaves and require a slightly longer cooking time, I’ve always circumvented that issue by just cooking them first, then adding the leaves later.

I’ll admit a little laziness is at play, too. I’m not one to spend the time actually slicing the leaves from the chard stems. I tend, instead, to take my bunch of chard and chop it up almost like I’m chiffonading basil—I roll it into a monster log of leaves, then slice narrow ribbons by cutting perpendicular to the log. It’s effective, albeit unorthodox.

When I have worked my way through the leaves, I just chop up the part of the stems that stick out at the bottom, and keep those in a separate pile. I usually trim the bottom quarter-inch or so of the stems, just to keep the raggedy pieces out of whatever I’m cooking.

When I actually get to the cooking part, I usually toss in the stems and garlic (in the case of the garlic photographed to the left, it’s garlic I actually grew in my very own garden, and therefore I swear it’s that much more delicious…) at the same time—that seems to create just the right balance of cooking time. In this case, I mix spinach and the chard leaves, and put them in later, and generally cook them just long enough to wilt them down. The result? Perfectly cooked stems, perfectly cooked leaves, and a delicious side dish that I could eat just about every day.

Sautéed Swiss Chard and Spinach
(Serves 4 as a side dish)

2 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
3-4 garlic cloves, chopped
1 bunch Swiss chard
1 10 oz. bag baby spinach leaves
Salt and pepper to taste

1. Wash and dry the chard, then remove the stems from the leaves in any method you deem appropriate (To do this IG-style, chop the stems off at the base of the leaves, and be sure to trim the very bottom parts). Chop the stems into 1/2-inch lengths and set them aside.
2. Roll the leaves together into a big log, as if you were making a chiffonade of basil, and slice thin strips by cutting perpendicular to the log.
3. Heat the olive oil over medium-high heat in a large sauté pan, and when it is hot, add the garlic and the chard stems. Sauté, stirring often, until the garlic just starts to brown and the stems are softening up.
4. Add the sliced chard leaves and the spinach a few handfuls at a time, stirring the mixture until what you’ve put in is cooked down enough to make room for the next handfuls. Once all the chard and spinach is in the pan, put a lid on it and wait for about a minute or two.
5. Remove the lid, stir, add salt and pepper to taste and serve immediately.

This is my post for Weekend Herb Blogging, which is being hosted this week by Ramona from the Houndstooth Gourmet. Stop by Ramona’s place on Monday to see the full round-up!

No matter where I live, no matter where I go, I will always hold the standard high for Iowa sweet corn. It’s hands-down fabulous, whether in a dish or on its own, and I plan to eat at least a few corn-only meals this summer, just in honor of its sheer amazingness. I don’t know if it’s what’s in the soil, or the water, or just that there’s so much of it the farmers have to get it right, but whatever it is, it’s working for this state.

I froze some of that sweet corn last summer—in fact, if I recall correctly, the corn I froze was purchased on the day the farmers were yelling to customers at the farmer’s market that it was the last day it would be available—and repurposed it to some Sunday afternoon corn muffins that made a regular Sunday afternoon taste much more like a Saturday night.

These muffins start with a basic cornbread and muffin mix (I used a pouch of Betty Crocker’s Cornbread and Muffin Mix as my starter), but I added or changed a few key ingredients to take it from normal to sublime.

Sure, it would probably be amazing if you made the muffin batter from scratch, but I had a lot to do on Sunday and wanted muffins in a speedy fashion. I chose the shortcut option, but didn’t suffer for it.

The sweet corn studded the sunny batter and made it look interesting even before it went into the oven. I had made them in brightly colored, rubber-ducky paper muffin cups that were probably more appropriate to a baby shower than a Sunday afternoon brunch, but hey, one does what one can with what one inadvertently bought and abandoned in one’s kitchen closet.

The muffins came out of the oven browned and piping and ready for a pat of butter. A word to the wise: these aren’t nearly as crumbly as standard muffins – the addition of the corn and the cheese contribute to a spoon-bready texture. But let that butter soften or, like Patsy Cline, these muffins will fall to pieces.

Just-About-Spoonbread Quick Corn Muffins
(Makes 6 muffins)

1 package cornbread and muffin mix (any commercial kind that requires the addition of butter and that says it makes 6 muffins)
Milk
Eggs
Olive oil
1 c. fresh or frozen corn kernels (I recommend Iowa sweet corn, but that’s a limited-time-option in a very localized area)
1 handful shredded cheddar cheese

1. Preheat the oven as directed on the package. In my case, it was 400 degrees F.
2. Prepare the cornbread and muffin mix as directed, with these exceptions: Substitute extra-virgin or virgin olive oil for the butter, and add just less than the amount of milk called for. In my case, the package called for 1/3 c. milk, and I poured about 90 percent of that into the bowl. You can add the eggs exactly as the mix directs.
3. Fold in the corn and cheese.
4. Bake as directed, until the muffins are firm and brown on top. Serve immediately with butter.

This is my contribution for Weekend Herb Blogging, which will be hosted this week by Kel from Green Olive Tree. Stop by Kel’s place after the weekend for a full round-up of recipes!

I consider the day the Oscars ceremony airs to be something of a national holiday. I love movies, but for years, have harbored a not-so-secret obsession: I must see all the Best Picture nominees before the award show, and I keep a list from the second the nominations press conference ends to track how many nominated films I’ve seen.

It’s also significantly more fun to watch the ceremony with like-minded friends. By that, I mean friends willing to snark all over the place about the dresses, the tuxes, the attitudes, the speeches, the bad jokes, the bad results, and the endless montages.

Last year, I watched the Oscars alone, but this year, gathered with a group of friends to eat, drink and snark until the last little golden man had been handed out. In honor of the occasion, I contributed two different kinds of bruschetta to the festivities: fig and blue cheese, and basil-tomato made with summer produce harvested from the freezer.

The fig and blue cheese combo is, well, scrumptious. But I equally, if not more deeply, enjoyed the bruschetta version made with slow-roasted tomatoes and basil I harvested and chopped from my very own garden. There have been so many times this month when I’ve been thrilled that I thought to freeze the flavors of summer, and there’s no question that all that glittered last night was not Oscar gold.

Golden Statue Bruschetta

1 baguette
1/2 c. chopped fresh basil
30 slow-roasted tomato halves
4 Tbsp. grated Parmesan cheese
5 oz. blue cheese
5 Tbsp. fig jam

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees
2. Slice baguette into 20 rounds. Arrange them on a baking sheet.
3. Top half the slices with approximately 1 Tbsp. chopped basil and three slow roasted tomato halves.
4. Sprinkle those slices with the Parmesan cheese.
5. Top the other half of the slices with 1/2 oz. blue cheese each.
6. Spread 1/2 Tbsp. fig jam on top of the blue cheese on each slice of bread.
7. Bake the bruschetta for approximately 10 minutes, or until the bread is starting to crisp up and the cheese is melting.
8. Serve immediately with a side of snark.

Although it’s a little early in the week to be thinking about the weekend, this is my contribution to this week’s edition of Weekend Herb Blogging, which is hosted this week by Zorra from Kochtopf. When the weekend actually arrives, please stop by to check out the full round-up!

More snow fell on Iowa City today, and the weather put me in a mood to cook, and to think about cooking. Luckily, today is also the last day to be part of the 2007 Foodbloggers’ Recipe Collection (which is why I’m going back on all that big talk about how I was done blogging for the year…), so it all worked out well for me. You know, the snow. It worked out well for me. And that’s about the last time I’m ever going to say that.

I had a slow cooker simmering chili all day, prepared with frozen hot peppers acquired at the farmer’s market in September, and with roasted Mexico Midget and Yellow Pear (both ripe and green) tomatoes that I harvested just before the hard freeze back in October.

At lunch, I whipped up a batch of tandoori lamb chops. I did not personally ever meet this lamb, but it came from Farmer Mark and Barbara’s farm, where it frolicked happily before giving itself up to the cause of good eating. I have been trying to track down a picture of the cute little lamb, but have come up empty-handed so far.

All this thoughtfulness about food made it that much harder to select my favorite recipe of the past year. I was able to narrow it down to a list of three: Rosemary-Artichoke Hummus, which has graced the table of so many of my own and others’ parties since I stumbled on that combination over the summer; Warm Green Tomato and Apricot Salad, which I can’t wait to make again when the seasonal timing is right; and Mac and Cheese Like You’ve Never Tasted Before.

All three recipes have their merit. The mac and cheese recipe is one of the most sought-after recipes on my blog, and for good—nay, great—reason. The salad is awfully unexpected and, therefore, even more delicious. And the hummus? Oh, the hummus. I seriously eat that stuff with a spoon…no pita required.

But a choice must be made, and so…I’m going to go with the mac and cheese. It was the first recipe of the year, and remains a winner with its comforting, gooey goodness. It satisfies the palate of vegetarians and carnivores alike, and can be served to the pickiest of eaters without fear that they’ll turn up their nose. It makes no amends for its complete and utter unhealthiness, but I maintain that there’s a time for salad and a time for carbs. When that time for carbs comes around, I hope you’ll consider Mac and Cheese Like You’ve Never Tasted Before. Your taste buds and endorphin receptors will thank you for it.

And a hearty thanks to Sandra from Un tocco di zenzero and Zorra from 1x umrühren bitte for organizing this terrific blog event! I can’t wait to read the round-up on or around December 31.

After I posted about the Union Square Greenmarket, I have to admit, I was surprised by the clamoring for instruction on roasting cauliflower. I’m glad of it – cauliflower always seems to me to be some kind of stepchild in the world of vegetables: no one pays nearly enough attention to it.

Cauliflower, though, if prepared properly, need not be ignored. And as far as I’m concerned, by properly, I mean roasted.

I know there are plenty of devotees of the steamed variety, and there are plenty of folks who like their cauliflower topped with some kind of cheese sauce or whatever. But at the end of the day, I will stake roasted cauliflower against any of that.

Why? Because it tastes freaking awesome. It’s crispy and crunchy in places, soft in others. It’s caramelized and therefore terrific.

Don’t believe me? Give this recipe a try. You will not regret it.

Roasted cauliflower
(Serves 4, unless there are two of you who find it eminently tasty, in which case it serves 2)

1 head of cauliflower (white, orange, purple, green…any color cauliflower will work well in this recipe)
2 Tbsp. olive oil
Salt and pepper

1. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.
2. Chop up a head of cauliflower. Don’t be too compulsive about it—evenly-sized pieces are fine, even if they are not perfect florets.
3. Put the cauliflower in a roasting pan or baking pan that will withstand high heat and drizzle it with the olive oil. Sprinkle with salt and pepper and toss.
4. Roast for approximately 30 to 45 minutes, or until the cauliflower is getting well-browned. Do not short-change this step! Shake the pan once or twice during cooking.
5. Serve immediately.

This is my contribution for this week’s edition of Weekend Herb Blogging, which is being hosted by Paulchen of Paulchen’s Food Blog. This is the last one of the season, folks…be sure to check out the round-up.