Celery root

It may be ugly and tough however, when you prepare it you'll wonder why you've not had it to dinner before. Peeled, chunked, and processed with a shredding blade in the food robot, it is the basis for the classic Celery Remoulade (Celeri Remoulade [with the proper accents]) You can swing the tone around because the sauce is mayonnaise, Dijon mustard, and lemon juice. I added a bit more mustard and used 1/2 lemon for 14 ounces of root. I served it with broiled veal chops so it offset the fat and richness of the meat just perfectly. I know you can cook the root, probably by boiling or steaming, then whip it into a wonderful creaminess like a potato. I'll try that Saturday.

Winter squash: the Butternut

Wait. There's more. Just continuing on and thinking of the Butternut squash: how about soup? So using the same 3/4" cubes, cooked on high for 7 minutes in combo of chicken stock and duck stock (3 cups and 2 cups) made them soft to the fork and soft for the blender. I poured off all the liquid to a bowl. I used a wand blender to make a heavy, heavy soup. I then started adding the cooking liquid back and kept blending. When all was back in it was a great consistency.

I think that adding water would have been sufficient. The stocks give it a different mouth feel: richer. I know a robust vegetable stock would have been perfect too. Say cooking water from carrots, kale and broccoli....
This would allow a pure vegetable soup.

I didn't know what to expect so I added judiciously. Some salt and ground pepper to taste. A dash or two of Worcester Sauce, and a teaspoon of yellow curry powder. Stirred up and served garnished with scallions. Butternut soup is a great tribute to fall vegetables on cooler nights.

Winter squash: the Butternut

I don't mind breaking down the whole squash. Many do mind. I think most often the squash gets halved, salted, buttered, and baked. You can scoop it out or cut serving size pieces. It warms the house, the cook, and after a while, the eater. It's very good.

You can buy the peeled, seeded, and chopped squash in our markets, but I really don't mind the cutting.

Most vegetable peelers make simple work of removing the hard, waxy outer skin, through the delicate green layer to the yellow flesh. Since I was already trolling around The Way to Cook, J Child, I went to the squash page. BOIL it?! I thought what a travesty. Not falling prey to my calcifying thinking I broke the squash down to 3/4" cubes, put them all in a large iron skillet, added water, and heated at medium with a cover. I was asked for 8 - 10 minutes but couldn't do it that long, so pulled them out into a serving dish around 6 or 7 minutes. They were perfectly done. Then I reduced the remaining liquid to a thick sauce and poured that back over. If I recall I only added salt to the initial preparation. Really sweet and tender and recommended. Who knew. If you really want to add something, butter, of course, would make a splash.

It comes to mind that I could have whipped the batch but I would guess it would be a little watery for my personal taste. However, I could see adjusting the water down and boiling and whipping to produce a wonderful iteration of the butternut squash. And come to think of it pairing with Nervous Nellies Hot Tomato Chutny would be a fine taste combination.

Shaggy mane

Lovely blooms of shaggy mane (Coprinus comatus) mushrooms awaited as I came home Wednesday night. Right combo of rain (plenty) and humidity. Look for them in sandy-soils, grassy, and lit but not sunny. Also called inky caps they turn inky black starting from the bottom skirt and all but disappear in a wink of inky-ness. Kind of like squid ink; somewhat ephemeral. The pure white caps are great cleaned, chopped and sauteed in olive oil or butter. These are not mushrooms with a remarkable flavor. It is very subtle. I made a single egg omlett and put the 1/4 cup of mushrooms in before folding. Salt and pepper make a difference. Delicate woodland flavor. I would guess a milk or cream of mushroom soup base would let out some more flavor.

Turnips redux

The smaller are sweeter. The terroir is there too. Even soft on the shelf seems to cook well and taste as I might expect. When making batch one of the puree of turnip I cut each into smallish chunks: 1/2 and 1/2 and 1/2 and 1/2. I guess that makes 16 pieces. The boiling was short, monitored by a fork. As in potatoes: softened is done. Off to the food processor with a bit of butter, salt, and some grinds of pepper. They were fantastic, almost as good as I had hoped; however, they were a bit watery. The watery tone did not make the taste bad, or look bad, but it wasn't where I wanted to be. I am certain it was a) boiling and b) too small a piece. So the following batch was only in quarters. Same processing, and a much, much better consistency. They were not like a whipped potato, but they did hold a peak somewhat. They were slightly more particulate, softly granular, and still had a bit of water. Last time I whipped parsnips - no water, even though boiled too. So now I might try the roasting then into the processor. I am certain I will have to put it through a chinois because I don't think the baked will process smoothly. We'll see. Winter is the perfect time to do this experiment as the fragrance scents the house and the heat, well, the heat is welcome.

Turnips of the purple tops

On the shelves now the purple topped turnip is sweet. Keep away from the softballs and stay around hardballs to golf balls (for size reference note "Onions" prior to this post). A 1/4" dice sauteed at high heat, agitated to keep them cooking uniformly, without salt or pepper, makes a nifty side to many dishes. I am strongly against salting at the start of or in the middle of cooking. I think it forces too much moisture out of the food. There's plenty of time to salt afterwards. I just cut off the top knot and bottom root, peeled with a vegetable peeler and sliced and diced.

Food preparation is cutting. I don't think you can get away from it. For an average dinner I spend most of the time preparing in some fashion which most often is cutting: slicing, dicing, peeling, paring, and so on. I am a big fan of cutting as you increase the surface area and so can cook faster and taste more of the food and have a great texture.

I do want to try mashing/whipping turnips to see what that is about.

I got distracted and will make a turnip dauphinoise The recipe is simple and is really slicing, mixing, and cooking.

The whipped turnips still intrieuges me so it will be worked on soon. Liz was selling wonderful, firm purple tops at the winter market here. An experiment sponsored by Berkshire Grown to see what response could be had from growers, servers, and buyers. Although overcast it it was well attended and festive and very social.

Brussels sprouts

Those vegetables that were distasteful, were over cooked. You know the ones I'm talking of. Very overcooked. I think the fibre without flavor is a real deal killer. Colorless vegetables or dull ones also work against the pleasure. I think a recent foray into Brussels sprouts was notable. I hashed the sprouts after cutting off the old looking ends and any worm-eaten outer leaves; not many in my case. I found them on ice in a large display at my local green grocer.

A cut in half, the long way, the cut in thirds, long way again, then dicing them across the previous cut yields what I am calling hashed Brussels sprouts. What is waiting for the Brussels sprouts is important. I slowly cooked, at low heat, 4 cloves of garlic. When fragrant I then cranked up the heat under the pan. Then into this pan I put the hashed (diced) veggies. Stirring a bit to mix it all up you can see the greens and yellows intensify. I take that as a good sign when cooking vegetables. You're done. Less than a minute. Or two at best. When sampling the sprouts at the end of cooking you can taste a wonderful tone of nuts, but the essential sprout flavor is there. To finish before serving there are lots of options. A light salt and pepper is important. You can grate some Reggiano or basic Parmesean cheese. I served mine with some sauce made with French Dijon mustard and chicken stock, simmered a bit. Butter would be a real crowd pleaser. I think these Brussels sprouts are often not cooked to show off their great taste.

I think serving them as individual leaves is also great, but a real effort. You have to love those for whom you will make it. It's a sit in the lap with a bowl and paring knife kind of day. Either a silent meditation or a chat with some friends.

Karen toasted some pecans, chopped them a bit and sprinkled over sauteed sliced Brussels sprouts. Very notable.

I ate at a new restaurant in Lenox last night. That chef put Brussels sprout slices in with balsamic, blue cheese, and pancetta. Wonderful combo. For my taste the Brussels sprouts were cooked a bit more than necessary. Maybe cooked and held for service.

I think, though, they are really seasonal and may disappear from shelves at some time in early winter. I would check to see if they were available from my local CSA.