The Duck's Nest: online home of mizducky

In search of simple vegetable-centric vegetable recipes.

I have a pet peeve. I go searching for vegetable-centric recipes -- usually on the Web, but even in many cookbooks -- and I keep finding recipes in which the vegetable is a bit player instead of the star, or gussied up with all sorts of other ingredients as if in an attempt to disguise that OMG it's a vegetable!

I'll give you the immediate example as a for-instance. A friend gave me an assortment of gorgeous winter squashes. Of course I can just roast them -- a terrific way of cooking veggies that I have used time and time again -- but that's just the problem. I have been roasting so many veggies recently that I'm beginning to get bored with the technique, and I sure as hell don't want to ruin such an excellent method for myself through overuse.

So ... I get my Google on, and what do I find? Squash soups, where some 1/3 to 1/2 the volume of the soup is broth, dairy, etc. Stews in which the squash shares billing with all sorts of other items. Casseroles, which by definition are assortments of ingredients. Risottos, in which, again by definition, the arborio rice is the main event. Squashes stuffed with everything from meat to nuts. Squash as bits and pieces on pizza. Salads in which squash is a garnish on top of greens. And on and on and on ...

Now mind you, many of the above recipes look absolutely excellent. BUT. NONE of them are what I am looking for. I'm looking for recipes in which my squash will be the star, not a bit player, not even a co-star. Recipes in which the squash will be set off in all its glory, with only those seasonings and aromatics that enhance its glory -- and certainly not glopped up with a bunch of sugar or syrup or sweeteners or other such additions that ignore the fact that winter squash are gloriously sweet all on their own. And I'm hard-pressed to find such recipes, and for the life of me I can't figure out why.

I have some guesses, of course. At least among many United States eaters, though eating patterns have changed somewhat in recent years, food is still centered around animal protein and vegetables are seen as a side. Even with the recent changes in food patterns to adopt less reliance on meat, the typical meatless entree still either mimics a meat dish ("meat" loaves, veggie burgers, etc.) or consists of an amalgam of different ingredients, such as a stew or soup or tagine or pizza or casserole. I see this pattern even in US vegetarian and vegan cookery. Perhaps, at least to some extent, this is yet another side-effect of modern urban consumer culture, in which we don't have to figure out what the heck to do with a bumper crop of a particular vegetable put out by our farm, but can just buy dribs and drabs of different ingredients as we desire and cobble them together as we please.

But mainly I confess this pattern just fairly shrieks at me a mindset of "OMG you can't have just a naked vegetable as your entree! That's so... so... unsatisfying!"

But I do want to have a vegetable as my entree. Of course I will have some protein and carbs as side-dishes or garnishes -- I do want a nutritionally balanced meal. But why do I have to have those things glommed onto the veg?

There are of course some cuisines that are more simpatico to this preference. Traditional Japanese nihon ryori, for example, has numerous recipes in which a single vegetable is prepared to jewel-like perfection and served on its own little plate with maybe a few sprigs of herbs as garnish. A favorite local Indian vegetarian restaurant of mine focusing on the cuisines of Southern India presents a buffet featuring a variety of all-vegetable curries (supplemented by pilaus, dals, and fresh-made dosas and idlis delivered directly to your table). And every summer I make multiple batches of ratatouille -- yes, a stew, but an all-vegetable stew, in which the zucchini and eggplant strut undisguised. And so on and so on with stir-fries and etc.

And there are also some cookbooks that do at least partly buck this trend. I have a beloved, much-stained and dogeared copy of The Victory Garden Cookbookthat I consult frequently for inspirations. While a lot of the recipes do the kind of things I don't want -- and also use larger quantities of high-fat ingredients than I care to indulge in on a regular basis -- each vegetable-chapter does lead off with some simple tasty preparations for the veggie unadorned and unadulterated. I also have a selection of macrobiotic cookbooks, which are great for technique ... but, alas, maybe a little too unadorned even for my tastes. And I have a few Indian vegetarian cookbooks, which again are great ... though sometimes the intensity of Indian spices presents its own issues of obscuring the flavor of the vegetable ...

I dunno, maybe the preparation of a single vegetable is considered too boring or elementary? Like, "what's the big deal? Just whack it up and either pile it in a steamer or onto a sheet pan and get on with it!" For comparison, though, I suggest an experiment: go Google "steak recipes." There you have it: a single ingredient, whose preparation, while indeed requiring some care, is usually simplicity itself, and look at the bazillions of hits, the majority of which do not attempt to adulterate the steak by making it the bit player to anything else. Because it's a steak, man! Why would you want to hide that it's a steak?

Hmmmm ... maybe I am sensing a niche for a possible cookbook project of my own. Who knows? Could there be a market for a book all about preparing vegetables simply, tastily but un-gussied-up, so that you can actually tell what you are eating and savor it for what it is?

Bitter melon: folk remedy food with a distinctive taste

Today's green thing: a vegetable prized throughout the Far East for its medicinal properties, but virtually unknown in western markets. And to be sure, bitter melon would be a hard sell to Westerners who have embraced all sorts of other imports from the Eastern traditional medicine scene. For one thing: it ain't called bitter melon for nothin'. This stuff, even when tamed down by soaking and salting, still has one heck of a bitter flavor. And the warty kelly-green cucumber-sized veggies are so ugly they're almost beautiful in their homeliness.

But for those of us who already have a fondness for such strong-flavored but good-for-you veggies as dandelion greens, bitter melon can be a really refreshing dish. Plus a lot of Eastern cooks have come up with all sorts of recipes to take the edge off bitter melon--but never eradicate it completely, because to them the bitterness is part of the qualities that provide the health benefits.

And what might those health benefits be? Fighting diabetes, for one. Apparently there is actually some scientific evidence to corroborate traditional claims that bitter melon helps even out blood sugar levels. There are also some claims that the vegetable has anti-inflammatory properties that indicate its potential against various forms of arthritis.

Here is some bitter melon prepared in a traditional Chinese style, stir-fried with fermented black beans and strips of pork. The strong flavor of the black beans helps mellow out the melon.

WHFoods: Celery

Celery has become a common household staple along with carrots, onions and potatoes. Its crunchy texture and distinctive flavor makes it a popular addition to salads and many cooked dishes. Although it is available throughout the year, you will enjoy the best taste and quality of celery during the summer months when it is in season and locally grown varieties can be easily found in the markets.

via www.whfoods.com

Green thing du jour: celery. Now here I was thinking the vegetable was just crunch, water, and not much nutrition, but according to this article there's plenty of health benefits of celery besides diet-friendly roughage. Alas, dunking it in ranch dressing to make it more exciting defeats its prime benefit of being low in calories. But still ... celery has a lot more going for it than I had at first suspected.

El chile relleno revoluteno

Green thing du jour: chile relleno from a local taco shop that shall remain nameless. To be sure, the fault is at least partly mine that it looks semi-blenderized; I have yet to figure out how to transport a to-go box without it trying to do somersaults in its bag. Still, this was only somewhat better in taste than looks - and was stone cold after a 10 minute drive home. Not going to this taqueria no mas. P.S. Yes, I know "revoluteno" isn't a real word in Spanish, or in any language as far as I know - I'm being silly in a Humpty Dumpty way. :-)

Zucchini is a great excuse for ratatouille

I was looking round San Diego's corner of the webiverse, and noticing that annual rise in concern over what to do with all those zucchini about to go wild in people's home gardens. Well folks, if you do happen to be burdened with extra zucchini, feel free to send some of your excess bounty to me. And if your garden is also overproducing eggplant, tomatoes, bell peppers, and/or basil, send those along too. Because all of those things together, along with some onion and garlic, add up to one of my absolute favorite dishes to cook: ratatouille.

I was into ratatouille way before the sweet animated movie. In fact, I was into it even before my first run-in with Julia Child. It was Joy of Cooking, of all books, that introduced me to the joy of ratatouille. My copy of the 1970s edition is in a box somewhere (since I haven't started unpacking from my latest move), but I recall being taken with Mrs. Rombauer's description of the completed dish looking like a Braque still life. And when I actually made the dish I was even more taken with it. The combo of veggies is like nothing less than summer in a bowl.

Since then I've spent a lot of time tinkering with the Joy recipe, adding ideas from many other sources (including Julia), and reading the various on-line diatribes about what does or does not constitute an authentic Provencal ratatouille, with the mixture of amusement and understanding I reserve for such rants (after all, you should get me going sometime about my opinions, as a child of the New York Metro area, of what pizza, bagels, and pastrami should and should not be). So what follows is my favorite method for making ratatouille. I can't swear it's authentic, but I can say it's really really yummy.

Note I said method, not recipe. This is really kind of loose--you basically "put in till it looks right," as cooks in my family used to say. Quantities are approximate, and there are some choices I leave open to whim and taste.

Ingredients:

• Eggplant -- one standard-sized big globe eggplant. Of course you could use the equivalent volume of little Italian or even Asian eggplants, but I think the big sturdy eggplant holds together better when simmered. Try to get one that feels heavy and dense for its size. I still ascribe to the (possibly fallacious) rule that the ones with the tiny blossom-scar on the bottom have fewer seeds than the ones with big scars (though yeah, they're not "female" and "male" eggplants--they're the plant's seed-carriers so by definition all eggplant fruits are female).
• Zucchini -- enough to about equal the volume of eggplant. If you have a choice, choose small zucchini rather than large ones, as the latter will be a bit more watery. But you can make the large ones work if that's what your generous gardener-friends have given you.
• Bell peppers -- Two, of good size. The sweetness of red peppers is really the best for this dish, but again, if your generous neighbors picked their peppers green, you can make them work.
• Tomatoes -- Slightly less than the volume of eggplant. Any decent-tasting fleshy tomato will work. Notice I said decent-tasting. Just about any tomato that comes out of a local garden will beat the spit out of anything you can find in a supermarket, short of those super-expensive heirlooms. Of course, if your gardening neighbor gives you a lot of heirlooms, use some of 'em for this dish ... but if s/he only gives you a few, save those for eating raw with just a sprinkle of salt. If you have to go storebought, Romas are best. Or else use good-quality canned whole Italian tomatoes. It'll be fine, I swear.
• Onion -- one nice big one. Brown, red, white, or sweet all work, and give their unique spin on the outcome.
• Garlic -- the better part of one whole knob. The only limit is your love of garlic and your patience for removing the skins of the little buggers.
• Basil -- several big leaves worth. Some will go in at the beginning, and some will go in at the end.
• Dried red chile -- one or two. Optional, but I like the little kick it adds.
• Kosher salt -- for purging the eggplant and for seasoning.
• Lemon juice -- for keeping the eggplant from turning brown while it's waiting to go in the pot.
• Freshly-ground black pepper -- to taste, for seasoning
• Olive oil -- for sauteeing and/or roasting various veggies
• Sugar -- just a teaspoonful, a trick I learned to balance the acidity of the tomatoes so you don't get that acid-y aftertaste that can happen with tomato-based dishes.

Okay, so now you've got your ingredients assembled and you've got some choices:

• Purging the eggplant -- I really feel that the eggplant's texture and flavor benefit from this, but if you don't have the time or energy you can get away without it.
• Roasting vs. sauteeing the onions, peppers, and garlic -- I have come to love the extra flavor added by roasting these veggies--the red peppers especially get incredibly fruity-sweet. But if it's just way too hot to turn on the oven, or if there's some other reason you don't want to bother, just saute these in the olive oil instead.

A note about equipment for this recipe: Not only does cut eggplant oxidize when exposed to air, but it also discolors when in contact with any reactive material (i.e. aluminum). And acid foods like tomatoes don't care for reactive metals either. So use stainless steel, glass, wood, or other non-reactive tools and utensils throughout this recipe.

So here at last we get underway--I'm going to give the full version with the purging and roasting:

1. Eggplant: have ready a big bowl half-filled with water to which you've added a stiff shot of lemon juice. Peel and remove the stem from the eggplant, and cut it into thick (one-inch) slices. Dunk the eggplant in the acidulated water from time to time and place the slices there when cut, to prevent browning from oxidation. Now take the eggplant out of the water, blot each slice briefly, and layer them in a colander, sprinkling each layer liberally with salt. Place a flat plate on top, and a heavy weight (say, an extra can of tomatoes) on top of the plate. Set aside in a sink or bowl to drain off some liquids.
2. Veggies to be roasted: preheat oven to around 350F. Peel the onion and cut into one-inch chunks (say, wedge it, then halve the wedges crosswise). Remove stems, seeds, and ribs from bell peppers and cut into one-inch chunks too. Break the garlic into cloves; trim off ends of cloves and peel (I don't bother using the little skinny cloves in the middle as they're more work to peel than I think they're worth--save 'em for something else if you'd like). Place all these veggies in a big bowl, drizzle liberally with olive oil, sprinkle with kosher salt, and toss until all are well-coated. Spread out on one or more oiled baking sheets so that there's a goodly amount of room between pieces of veg--they won't roast properly if they're too crowded. Place in the oven and keep an eye on them--they're done when the peppers and onions are showing a good bit of caramelization, but overdone when bits start turning black.
3. Zucchini -- remove stem ends and cut into thick, one-inch slices. If using extra-large zucchini, you can halve these slices cross-wise--but you want that one-inch thickness, that helps keep the zuke chunks from dissolving into mush when cooked.
4. Tomatoes -- I just can't be bothered to peel 'em, but if you want to, go right ahead. Again, one-inch chunks. Try to capture and reserve as much of the juices and jellied bits as you can. You can sieve out the seeds if you wish--this is another detail I don't bother with.
5. Basil -- pick a bunch of big good-looking leaves from your basil plant or bunch of basil.
6. The eggplant again -- remove from colander, rinse each slice briefly to remove salt. You should be able to very gently squeeze each slice like a sponge to wring out even a little more liquid, without breaking the slices. Blot dry, and cut slices into those one-inch chunks like everything else.
7. Assembling it all -- when the roasting veggies are looking close to being ready, take the big stewing pot you've chosen for this occasion and put it on the stove over medium-lowish heat. Put a generous shot of olive oil in there, tilt the pot around so the oil coats the bottom, and let it come up to cooking temperature. Add the eggplant, and stir it about, letting it get coated with oil. After the eggplant has had a chance to gain some heat, add the tomatoes with their reserved juices, and stir gently to mix. Add all the roasted veggies; again stir gently. Add a handful of whole basil leaves, the dried chile, and a grind of black pepper. Let the pot come up to temperature as needed after all those additions, and then put on a tight-fitting lid and turn temperature down to medium-low.
8. Check after about 10 minutes--the veggies should have released enough juices that the liquid level has come up considerably, and the eggplant and zucchini should have started to soften, but are probably still a bit raw. Now you can add the sugar; stir again, very gently, to combine, Put the lid on again and adjust heat so that the pot will very gently simmer. Now keep checking every five minutes or less, giving a gentle stir each time before you replace the lid--you want all the eggplant and zucchini just tender and cooked through, but not too soft, and it can go from one to the other in the blink of an eye. As soon as it's reached that state of doneness, take it off the heat and remove the lid to put the brakes on the cooking.
9. Chiffonade your remaining basil leaves and scatter the shreds over your ratatouille. Taste and adjust other seasonings as desired. You're done!

You can serve this hot, cold, or at room temperature. It keeps well in the fridge and is definitely better the next day. It's great by itself, or as a topping on fish or chicken. A sprinkling of grated parmesan, romano, or similar cheese and a handful of olives goes great with it.

Com tam plate at Com Tam 77

Now here's an example of what happens when a Vietnamese restaurant get into catering more to non-vietnamese customers. This com tam plate (BBQ pork, bi, steamed egg cake) tasted great, and look how pretty the plating is. But the portions are a third to a half smaller than the same plate at Saigon, for a slightly higher price. Plus I confess I like Saigon's BBQ pork better.

A dac biet banh mi

A dac biet banh mi (Vietnamese sub sandwich w/everything on it) from Ba Le Sandwich Shop in Linda Vista. This shop is very "local color" (i.e. not gussied up for middle-class white folks tastes) but I however like them all the more for that. Plus they make a damn fine sandwich. Obligatory on-topic reference for NaBloPoMo monthly theme: look! There's green veggies in the sandwich! (cilantro and cucumber).

K stands for more than sandwiches

Picked up some interesting non-sandwich yummies at K Sandwiches: on the left is banh bot chien, rice flour/taro cakes with scrambled eggs and scallions; on the right a rice noodle salad with bi (shredded pork skin) and assorted garnishes, including coconut milk. Certainly a lot more interesting than a Burger Doodle - and probably healthier too.

Lunch victory

Had a big argument with myself about where to get lunch and once again Saigon in City Heights won out. Com tam (broken rice) plate w/ grilled marinated pork and bi (shredded pork skin) plus iced coffee. Cheap filling and good.

Interesting eats on the run again

Shredded pork & jellyfish w/ vegetables @ Golden City in Kearny Mesa - from monthly specials menu. Yummy comfort-food Cantonese style light sauce, jellyfish mainly added an interesting texture, slightly chewy-crunchy.