The arrival of a bulk share from the CSA can be a little intimidating for me. Large volumes of a single type of produce, particularly a perishable one, make me worry that I won’t be able to use it all in time. Actually, it’s mostly PTSD from when the bulk share of basil arrives and I end up spending a couple of hours elbow deep in green leaves, washing, spinning dry, and grinding them into pesto. Hmmm… I think I’ll just stop this rant here as I’m realizing what a first world problem that is.

Anyway, our bulk share of potatoes arrived, and what with the persistent late fall winds and rains, my mind turned to the comfort of fluffy mashed potatoes. I particularly liked the idea of trying to make a shepherd’s pie to boost the comfort factor even further by wrapping all the sides and main dish in one.

I wanted this dish to be an appealing mix of color and flavor. I love the way the bright orange and purples of the carrots and spritely green of the peas pop up throughout the warm brown of caramelized hamburger meat. For a change-up in flavors, I wanted the potatoes to be a little tangy so I added some sour cream and Gruyère cheese to the mash. Perhaps that’s what makes this such a great cold weather meal: the meat, gravy, and mashed potatoes is the baseline of warming comfort food but the carrots and peas are a touch of spring and bring thoughts of warmer seasons. I love how this is hearty but not heavy, and I think that the way I would improve this would be by taking a tip from a recent Cook’s Illustrated beef stew recipe– add a little bit of gelatin to create a velvety feel to the gravy.

• 1.75 lbs ground beef
• 1 large onion, chopped
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 8 oz cremini mushrooms, sliced
• 3 medium carrots (purple if you got ‘em), chopped
• 1 cup frozen peas, thawed
• 3 tbsp unsalted butter, divided
• 3 tbsp flour
• olive oil
• salt and pepper
• 1 cup chicken stock
• 2.5 lbs German butterball potatoes
• 1/2 cup sour cream
• 1.5 cups heavy cream
• 2 cups grated Gruyère

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Peel and chop potatoes into 1 inch sized pieces. Place in a large pot and cover with cold water. Cover and bring to a boil, then add about 1 to 2 tsp of salt. Boil uncovered for 15-20 minutes or until fork tender.

While potatoes are boiling, heat 1 tbsp olive oil in a large skillet over medium high heat. Add the onion and saute until softened, about 5-7 minutes. Add ground beef and garlic, and cook with minimal stirring to brown the meat.  Meat should be cooked through, about 7-10 minutes. Add the mushrooms and carrots, and cook for another 5 minutes or until mushrooms are cooked through. Add 1 tbsp of butter to the pan and sprinkle the flour evenly over the meat. Mix in the flour, cooking for about 1 minute. Add the chicken stock and simmer until a thickened gravy forms. Stir in the peas and season with salt and pepper to taste.

Drain the potatoes and throw them back immediately into the hot pot. Shake the pot a little to dry off the potatoes. Add the sour cream, 2 tbsp of butter, and cheese. Pour in the cream a little bit at a time as you mash it all together to avoid adding too much cream. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Pour the ground beef mix into a large baking dish, a 13 by 9 inch pan should work. Spread the mashed potatoes over the top of the ground beef in an even layer. Bake for 30 minutes. Let sit for 10 minutes before serving.

CSA Count: 4

Onion, garlic, purple carrots, German butterball potatoes

I know, what kind of name is “hoi polloi” for something you eat? Afterall, it’s a Greek phrase that means “the many” or apparently is synonymous with “the commoners.” But when I lived in Cleveland, “hoi polloi” was defined for me by an amazing meal at a favorite, but apparently now defunct restaurant.

It starts with a plate full of crispy, buttery potato pancakes. Piled on top of that is a crunchy, slightly sweet and tangy coleslaw. Then the final layer is a big pile of salty, spicy corned beef. John and I would argue over who’d get to order it, but the other person would be adequately compensated with an order of cinnamon sugar spiced sweet potato fries and first dibs on ordering the frosted Oreos for dessert. Need I explain that this was often the choice of where to eat when both of us felt like stress eating?

When German butterball potatoes and cabbage showed up in our CSA box, I seized the opportunity to try to recreate that treasured food memory. (Minus the frosted Oreos and sweet potato fries– we don’t feel the stress eating need nearly as much now that one is done with med school and the other doesn’t deal with people actively in crisis on an everyday basis.) The potatoes, determined by our CSA as being the most potato-ey of potatoes, were perfect for making pancakes. I tried to make it a little healthier by using a light mustard vinaigrette for my coleslaw, and the last swap out was in substituting pastrami for the corned beef to suit John’s lunch meat preferences. All the flavors and textures from the original were present and accounted for in this tribute. Now I suppose this means I need to work on figuring out how to make those frosted Oreos…

• 1/2 lb pastrami

Potato Pancakes

• 1 lb German butterball potatoes
• 1 small onion, grated
• 1 large egg, beaten
• about 1/4 cup all purpose flour
• 1 tsp baking powder
• 1/2 tsp baking soda
• salt and pepper to taste
• 1 tbsp olive oil
• 1 tbsp unsalted butter

Coleslaw

• 1/2 head cabbage, roughly chopped
• 1 large carrot, grated
• 3 tbsp olive oil
• 1 tbsp cider vinegar
• 1 tbsp Dijon mustard
• 1 tsp honey
• salt and pepper

Scrub potatoes clean and peel them. Using a grating blade in a food processor or the large holes of a grater, shred the potatoes. Put the shreds in a colander and sprinkle with about 1 tsp salt, mixing the salt throughout. Let sit for abut 10-15 minutes, then pile the shreds on top of a clean kitchen towel. Fold up the towel and wring it to squeeze out as much of the potato water as you can. The dryer the potato, the better the fry.

While waiting for the salt to draw out moisture from the potato shreds, assemble the coleslaw to give it time to wilt in the vinaigrette. Whisk together the olive oil, vinegar, mustard, honey and salt and pepper to taste. Toss it with the cabbage and grated carrot. Set aside.

Back to the squeezed dry potatoes. In a large bowl, mix together the potato shreds, egg, and grated onion. Add the flour a bit at a time– you’re basically looking for just enough flour to bind the potato shreds together, I’m guessing here that it took me about 1/4 cup but it may take you more or less depending on the humidity. Add the baking soda and powder (to give the cakes a little lift) and season with salt and pepper to taste.

Preheat your oven to 300 degrees. In a large skillet, heat the oil and butter over medium high heat. When the fats in the pan get ripply, add the potato pancake batter to the pan in about 1/3 cup sized mounds. Use the spatula to help flatten it out into a patty that’s about 1/2 inch thick. Turn the heat down to medium to avoid burning the potatoes and cook for about 5 minutes. Basically, monitor the edges of the pancake– when they look golden brown, then it’s probably safe to flip those suckers. Cook for another 3-4 minutes on the other side or until golden. Keep warm in the oven while you finish cooking the other cakes.

Assembly is pretty self-explanatory: place 2 to 3 cakes on each plate, top with a pile of coleslaw and finish off with pieces of pastrami.

CSA Count: 3

German butterball potatoes, onion, cabbage

Oops… please disregard the dirty window. But there it is, a kubota squash. I believe this is sometimes called a Japanese pumpkin. If you haven’t had one before, I think it tastes a bit like a cross between pumpkin and acorn squash, if you can define a difference between them. Basically, it’s sweet like a sugar pumpkin, but a little buttery and nutty at the same time.

A squash is still a squash no less, meaning it’s irritating to prep and in over abundance during the fall, but this one I didn’t mind so much. Maybe it’s all due to the exotic name. I decided to follow its Japanese roots and tried to recreate a delicious dish that I once had where the pieces of squash were cooked with ground pork. Just imagine the contrast of the sweet, buttery squash with gingery, red pepper-flecked ground pork. I added more crunch and nutritional value by adding cabbage to this stir fry. Perhaps something that’d be even better? A generous handful of roasted peanuts in the end, and maybe a splash of rice vinegar for acid, but as it was, this was a nice, light, but still filling meal.

• 1 medium kubota squash
• 1/2 head nappa cabbage, sliced into 1 inch wide pieces
• 1 small onion, thinly sliced
• 1 lb ground pork
• 2 tsp sesame oil, divided
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 red chilis, minced
• 1.5 tbsp fresh ginger, minced
• soy sauce
• 1 tbsp corn starch
• 1 tsp rice vinegar
• canola oil
• salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Cut the squash in half and clean out seeds. Cut each half into wedges about 2 inches wide. Roast the pieces on a foil lined baking sheet that has been lightly brushed with oil for about 30-40 minutes or until the pieces are tender. Cool the squash so that you can touch it, then separate the squash flesh from the rind and cut into pieces about 1 to 1.5 inches big. Set aside.

In the meantime, put the pork in a bowl with 1 tsp sesame oil, 1 tbsp soy sauce, 2 tsp rice vinegar, 1 clove minced garlic, 1/2 tbsp fresh minced ginger, and 1 tbsp corn starch with a little salt and pepper. Mix together and let it marinate.

In a large skillet or wok, heat 1 tbsp of canola oil over medium high heat. When the oil ripples and is just about to smoke, add the onion, 1 tbsp ginger, minced red chilis, and the other 2 minced garlic cloves. Quickly stir fry until the oil is fragrant. Add the pork and cook until browned through, about 5-7 minutes. Toss in the cabbage and stir fry for 2-3 minutes or until the cabbage is slightly wilted. Add back in the squash, carefully stirring around to avoid mashing the squash, until the squash is heated through, about another 2 minutes. Add about 2 tsp soy sauce and season with salt and pepper to taste. Finish off the dish with a drizzle of about 1 tsp sesame oil.

CSA Count: 2

Kubota squash, garlic

When dining out, the thing that usually drives my decision as to what to order are the garnishes and sides. I rarely have a hankering for the featured item of a dish, so unless that item is cooked in some new or interesting way, it’s the things on the side, the flavors and textures that have been paired with it, that intrigue me. Well, okay, unless the side says that it has bacon or cheese in it, then admittedly, that seals the deal right there.

Since I’m not a huge squash fan, my ideas for garnishes were definitely what got me excited about this soup. When confronted with four delicata squash, my mind instantly went to a pot of warm, brightly spiced, creamy soup as the quickest and most painless ways I could use those babies up. A little further digging into the CSA box revealed a small head of bitter radicchio, and I was instantly dazzled by the color possibility of sharp magenta sitting atop the light, sunny orange color of the soup. If that radicchio was slightly wilted with a splash of sweet and acidic balsamic vinegar and slivers of crunchy bacon, then I’d have more than just a colorful garnish. I’d have textural contrast and balance of flavors as well.

Idea was put into practice and the result was good. The acidic tang and slight bitterness of the balsamic glazed radicchio brightened the heat of the ginger and cinnamon in the soup. The bacon added salt and crunch which cut through the creamy soup base. The colors popped, inviting you to devour this soup, and know that this wouldn’t be just another boring bowl of roasted squash soup.

• 4 small delicata squash
• 1 medium onion, chopped
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 quart vegetable stock
• 2 cups water
• 1/3 cup cream
• olive oil
• salt and pepper
• 1 tsp cinnamon
• 1 tbsp fresh ginger root, minced
• pinch of all spice
• 1 head radicchio, thinly sliced
• splash of balsamic vinegar, about 2 tsp
• 2 slices bacon, cut crosswise into 1/4 inch wide strips, cooked until crisp
• 1 tbsp parsley, chopped

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Split squash lengthwise and scoop out seeds and stringy bits. Brush the flesh side with olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Set cut side down on a foil lined baking sheet. Cook for 30-40 minutes or until tender. Scoop out squash flesh and set aside.

In a large Dutch oven or soup pot, heat 1 tbsp olive oil over medium heat. Cook the onion, garlic, and ginger until onion softens but doesn’t browned. Add squash, vegetable stock, and water. Bring to a boil and simmer for 20 minutes. Blend until smooth, either by using an immersion blender (lucky! I want!) or in batches in a blender of no more than 2 cups of soup at a time, holding down the lid with a towel since the hot soup can push the lid off if the blender is overfilled. Return pureed soup to pot and add the cream, cinnamon, and all spice. Adjust salt and pepper to taste and keep warm while you prep the garnish.

Heat about 2 tsp olive oil in a small skillet over medium heat. Add the radicchio a handful at a time so that the leaves get a chance to wilt and make room for more. Add the balsamic vinegar and a pinch of salt and pepper. Let this cook until the vinegar reduces down to a light glaze over the radicchio.

Ladle soup into bowls. Carefully set a small pile of radicchio in the center of each bowl. Sprinkle the bacon over and around the radicchio and add a pinch of fresh parsley for additional color.

CSA Count: 3

Delicata squash, radicchio, parsley

It started with the damn taco truck. One of the best quick-lunch options available is a local taco truck’s carnitas on top of little pieces of heaven– a fried flatbread of sorts called sopapillas. Those carnitas were an astoundingly perfect balance of tender, juicy meat, flecked with a crispy crust and crunchy pieces of caramelized fat. I became a little obsessive, wanting more as soon as I inhaled them. That lunch was soon followed by a birthday party where the main meal was home-made carnitas, and then , I don’t know if it was the persistent obsession or just coincidence (probably the latter,) I started seeing carnitas on favorite food blogs and television shows. I took it as a sign from the universe that I was meant to figure out how to make my own carnitas at home.

Although I can’t claim this is a fast meal, it’s a pretty lazy and fun one. Basically, you braise the meat until it’s meltingly tender, then throw it back in the oven under high heat until the fat renders, crisping up and creating a good crust. In other words, that’s plenty of time for you to knit, read, watch t.v. (or whatever you do for fun), while your stove and oven does all the work for you. The fun part comes from the bright colors and variety of garnishes that you choose to top your tortilla wrapped carnitas. In this case, I had crunchy red cabbage that had been wilting in a mix of lime juice, cider vinegar, olive oil, salt, green onions and a sprinkling of cilantro; some lime wedges for an extra squeeze of acid for balance; fresh cilantro leaves; and a creamy, spicy tangy sauce made from leftover tomatillo salsa blended with a ripe avocado. If you space out the cooking over two days, you can pop open a cerveza and kick back with these as a fun, weeknight meal– a little fiesta break in the middle of your week.

• 3-4 lbs pork shoulder
• 1 cup orange juice
• 2-3 cups chicken stock
• 3 tbsp cumin, divided
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 tbsp dried oregano
• pinch of cinnamon
• 2 large cloves garlic, minced
• corn tortillas
• salt and pepper

Cut the pork shoulder into pieces about 2 inches wide. Place the pork in the bottom of a large Dutch oven or soup pot. Add the orange juice and enough chicken stock to cover the pieces. Add 1 tbsp cumin, bay leaf, 1 tsp salt and 1/2 tsp pepper. Bring to a boil then decrease the heat to low so that the stock stays at a simmer. Continue simmering for 2.5-3 hours or until meat is tender.*

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Shred the meat and place in a baking pan, large enough so that the meat is distributed in a single layer. Add 2 tbsp cumin, the oregano, the pinch of cinnamon, and minced garlic. Cook until the juices in the pan evaporate and the meat is browned and crispy– this will depend on how crunchy you like it so check on it every now and then and stir things around to ensure even cooking. I think I left mine in for 30-40 minutes. Salt and pepper to taste. Serve with plenty of warm tortillas and your favorite garnishes. Some tequila for the cook would be appreciated too.

*If you want to break up the cooking, here would be the place you’d do it. I braised the pork on a Sunday night, let them cool a bit then put them in a tupperware container, filled about 2/3 of the way up with the braising liquid. Stored it in the fridge until the night I was ready to use them. If you do this though, try not to get as alarmed as I was about how the liquid jellied from the rendered fat. Ewww… squishy… ewww…

CSA Count: 3

Red cabbage, cilantro, garlic

One of my favorite Sunday night meals is a roast chicken. It takes minimal effort to prepare, makes the house smell so comforting, is deliciously rewarding when you eat that perfect bite of crisp skin and juicy meat, and has the feel of a holiday dinner without the pressure of having to celebrate something.

But every now and then I get a hankering for roast chicken, but don’t have the time to baby sit my oven for an hour and a half. So what to do then? That’s when I look for bone in, skin on chicken parts. A quick sear, skin side down in a hot skillet then 20 short minutes in the oven yields just as much roast chicken joy but on a shorter time frame. Only thing missing is the side of happy, roasted vegetables (since I usually roast my chicken over a bed of root vegetables and potatoes to take full advantage of crisping them up from the chicken fat rendered) so I look for other ways to dress up this meal a little.

In this case, the dress up came from making a rich, flavorful mushroom cream sauce to pour over the chicken. I caramelized some cremini mushrooms in the same skillet in which I did the initial sear on these chicken thighs. A splash of dry vermouth was used to deglaze the pan, picking up all the flavors from the chicken. A light sprinkle of flour was then mixed in with some melted butter to make a roux for thickening the sauce, then I added cream and chicken stock to give the sauce body and an extra boost of flavor. Finally, some fresh tarragon gave a crisp, light taste to cut through the creamy sauce. Suddenly, a Wednesday night felt as homey as a Sunday one.

• 16 oz bone in, skin on chicken thighs
• olive oil
• 8 oz cremini mushrooms, sliced
• 1 medium shallot, minced
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1/4 cup dry vermouth
• 1 tbsp unsalted butter
• 2 tbsp flour
• 1 cup chicken stock
• 1/3 cup heavy cream
• 2 tbsp tarragon, chopped
• salt and pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Heat a large skillet with about 2 tsp olive oil over medium high heat. Salt and pepper the skin side of the chicken. When the pan is hot, put the chicken, skin side down in the skillet and salt and pepper the under side of the thighs. Let them cook for about 5-7 minutes or until the skin is crisp and brown. Remove the thighs to a baking dish, skin side up. Bake in the oven for 20-25 minutes or until an instant read thermometer inserted in the thickest part of the chicken but not touching the bone registers to read 160 degrees. Remove to a plate, covered with foil to keep warm.

In the same skillet used to cook the chicken add about 1 tbsp olive oil and sauté the shallot and garlic until translucent. Add the mushrooms and sauté for 5-10 minutes or until browned. Add the vermouth, and using a wooden spoon, scrape up the browned bits from the bottom of the pan, cooking over medium heat until the vermouth is almost all absorbed. Add the tbsp of butter. After it melts, sprinkle the flour over the pan’s contents evenly. Stir and cook for about 1-2 minutes, then add the chicken stock and cream. Simmer for a few minutes or until the sauce thickens slightly, then add about half the tarragon. Plate the chicken with the sauce and add remaining tarragon for garnish. Keep the bones in a plastic bag in the freezer to make chicken stock when you’ve accumulated about 2 lbs of chicken bones from other meals, if you want.

CSA Count: 2 (3 if you count the side)

Shallot, garlic (fingerling potatoes)

I had prepped to blog about some chicken with cream sauce dish I’d made, when I saw on my Facebook news feed that tomorrow, Jan. 23 is National Pie Day. (It’s what happens when you’re a fan of King Arthur Flour… yes, I’m a geek, but we’ve established that awhile ago.) So in honor of such an illustrious day, I put this one at the head of the posting queue even though I’ve been blogging about things I made back in September, and this delicious pie was made for Thanksgiving.

This year, we celebrated Thanksgiving at home and hosted friends and their new baby (well, the baby belongs to only two of them, but that’s probably assumed and besides the point.) Every year, I go through this internal debate about what pie to make for T Day. Apple? Pumpkin? Pecan? The internal debate gets even more complicated because I feel like pumpkin is a must have, but there’s always some idiot guest who doesn’t like pumpkin, even in delicious pie form. So despite the additional work it creates on a day of already long hours spent in the kitchen, I always make a second pie. Frankly, I could have made this, but I didn’t know of its existence until a pie plan had already been made.

I cannot tell a lie– I make a fabulous apple pie, and damn well should as I actually spent a summer perfecting that craft. (No complaints from John despite eating an apple pie each week for 3 months.) But what’s the fun of cooking if you can’t challenge yourself to something new? I love pecan pie and there’s an additional challenge to make a good one since John’s mom made such fabulous pecan pies, so in the continuing internal debate, pecan pie was edging out apple to join its pumpkin friend on our table. Only problem? Above mentioned friends do not like pecans.

I just… I just… I can’t… I… I don’t understand how you can’t like pecans?! There so buttery and delicious, the natural embodiment of heavenly toffee taste. To say you don’t like pecans is like saying you don’t like adorable puppies in my book. (Yes, I’m judgmental, but I believe we also established that awhile ago.) But to take a negative and turn it into something positive, I accepted this as my challenge. Hazelnuts were apparently acceptable as a nut, so rather than going the cream pie route, I thought I’d try making a chocolate hazelnut pie in the style of a caramely pecan one.

Success! The chocolate was gooey and vibrant with hazelnut flavor, thanks to a shot of Frangelico. It had the melty, creamy consistency of a good, freshly made ganache which paired so nicely with the buttery crunch of the toasted hazelnuts. And to make this even better? We topped it off with that pecan pie staple: bourbon spiked whipped cream. I still crave a good caramel pecan pie, something I don’t think I’ve had since my last Christmas with my mother-in-law, but now my holiday debate may be drawn and quartered as this chocolate hazelnut pie will definitely want to make a come back.

• 1/2 recipe of The Joy of Cooking’s Flaky Pastry Dough, par-baked
• 2.5 cups hazelnut pieces
• 3 large eggs
• 1 cup sugar
• 1/2 cup light corn syrup
• 1 tbsp butter, melted
• 6 oz semi-sweet chocolate chips
• 1 tbsp Frangelico liquor
• 1/2 tsp salt

Bourbon Whipped Cream Topping

• 1 cup heavy whipping cream
• 1 tsp vanilla
• 2 tbsp bourbon
• 3 tbsp sugar

Blind bake the pastry shell: roll out the prepared dough and set it in a 9 inch pie pan. With the tines of a fork, prick the sides and bottom of the pie dough then set in the freezer for at least 30 minutes. Lay a piece of foil over the pie shell and weigh it down with dried beans or pie weights– enough to cover the bottom of the pie shell and spread out to all sides. Bake for 15-20 minutes. Carefully remove the foil with your weights from the pie plate. Using the back of a spoon, press down any bubbles that may have formed in the dough. Back for an additional 5-10 minutes or until crust is golden. During this last bake, whisk together 1 egg yolk and a pinch of salt. Brush this egg wash over the bottom and sides of the dough and return to the oven for another 1-2 minutes. You can do this a day in advance as long as you reheat the pie shell so it’s hot to the touch when you get ready to pour in your pie filling.

In a an oven preheated to 375 degrees, toast the hazelnut pieces. This should take about 5-10 minutes, but watch them to make sure they don’t burn, stirring them around every now and then to ensure even toasting. Whisk together the eggs, sugar, corn syrup, butter, Frangelico and salt.

Put the chocolate chips in a microwave safe bowl. Place bowl in the microwave and set on full power for 30 seconds. Take the bowl out and stir the chips around. Continue to microwave in 10-20 second intervals, stirring the chocolate to ensure even melting and no burning. This should take maybe 3-4 more turns. When you have mostly melted chocolate and a few chips, you can stop microwaving and just keep stirring the chocolate, allowing the residual heat to do the rest of the work for you.

Mix about a quarter of the batter into the chocolate then add all of this back to the rest of the batter. Fold in the hazelnuts. Pour all of this into the hot pie shell (if you made the shell the day before you can let it heat back up by putting it in the oven while you make the filling) and bake for 35-45 minutes. It should be baked at the edges but wiggly in the center. The filling will firm up as it cools, at least 1.5 hours before serving.

When ready to serve, put the heavy cream in a mixing bowl and mix on high speed for about a minute before adding in the sugar, bourbon, and vanilla. Beat until fluffy and dollop giant spoonfuls on pieces of pie.

This will be another one of those posts that show how woefully behind I am in blogging, but on the bright side, it’s mid-winter and probably cold or raining (if you’re out here on the West Coast) so it’s a nice break to revisit early fall with its summery climes. Well, at least it is for me.

If I can give myself a hearty pat on the back, I think this is one of those dishes that perfectly captures summer in one bite. It’s in part due to the ingredients: fresh corn off the cob and sweet, juicy sungold cherry tomatoes which are at the peak of season. It’s in part due to the colors: sunny yellow, bright orange, and lightly purple shalot with flecks of herbal green mirror the gorgeous hues of a dinner time sunset. But it’s mostly the flavors and textures: sweet, slightly milky corn with heat from a jalapeño; additional sweetness with an undercurrent of acid from the juicy tomatoes; salty crunch from the bacon; and crisp, bright licorice notes from the tarragon which tie everything together into a refreshing salad. I’m starting to think that even the idea of this dish has magical powers as the sun has managed to burst through the grey rain clouds as I’ve written this. Perhaps a sign that you should give this a try?

• 3 ears of yellow corn
• 3 strips thick cut, uncured bacon
• 1 medium shalot, thinly sliced
• 1 small clove of garlic, minced
• 1 jalapeño, minced
• 1/2 pint sungold cherry tomatoes, quartered
• 2 tbsp fresh tarragon
• olive oil
• salt and pepper

In a medium skillet, cook the bacon until crisp. Cool on paper towel lined plate then crumble the bacon into pieces.

While the bacon cooks, strip the kernels off the ears of corn. (Easy way is to place a small bowl, bottom side up inside a large bowl then standing the ear upright on the small bowl and running the knife along the ear from top to bottom so that the large bowl catches the kernels as they fall away. Be sure to run the non-sharp edge of the blade along the empty husk to exude some of the milky corn liquid too.)

In a large skillet, heat about 2 tsp olive oil over medium heat and gently cook the shalot, garlic and jalapeño. You’re looking to sweat the vegetables to bring out some sweetness but don’t brown them so watch your heat and stir often. When those vegetables have softened, about 5 minutes, add the corn and tomatoes so that the corn and tomato heat through. You’ll know when the tomatoes have softened a little and are juicy. Season lightly with salt and pepper then toss in the bacon crumbles and about 1.5 tbsp of tarragon. Plate and sprinkle the top with the rest of the tarragon as garnish.

CSA Count: 5

Corn, shalot, garlic, jalapeño, sungold tomatoes

Cauliflower… blech. I can probably summarize this household’s feelings toward that particular vegetable with a look back at a longstanding argument with our friend/former roommate, Doug:

Doug: Broccoli is gross.

Me: How can you say that when you like cauliflower. Ewww!

Doug: At least cauliflower doesn’t smell like ass.

John: Broccoli may smell like ass but at least it doesn’t taste like one, unlike cauliflower!

(End scene. Yes, this discussion took place between three allegedly mature adults.)

So you can imagine the groans of disgust and fake dry heave noises in the Morrisong household upon hearing that cauliflower would be part of the CSA share that week. But since we are thankful that a CSA forces us to try vegetables that normally would be ejected from our shopping cart, we thought we’d give the cauliflower a chance instead of immediately palming it off on others.

I love what roasting does to vegetables, so I thought that maybe this might be the method that could ameliorate cauliflower’s asstastic flavor. I tossed the cauliflower with some curry powder, thin slices of shalot, garlic, olive oil and a little melted butter, then roasted them in the oven until the tips of the cauliflower turned crispy and brown with caramelization.

It worked! The cauliflower was fragrant with curry and from the aromatics yet a bit buttery, nutty and a tad sweet. It worked so well, in fact, that John has declared that he actually likes cauliflower– when cooked in this way that is. I don’t think either of us are ready to retract that “tastes like ass” comment any time soon when cauliflower is presented in any other way.

• 1 medium head cauliflower, cut into florets
• 1 large shalot, thinly sliced
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 tsp curry powder
• 1/2 tsp tumeric
• 1.5 tbsp olive oil
• 1/2 tbsp unsalted butter, melted
• salt and pepper

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. In a baking pan or on a cookie sheet, spread out the cauliflower florets in a single layer. Sprinkle the slices of shalot, minced garlic, tumeric, and curry powder evenly over the cauliflower. Pour the olive oil and butter over the vegetable and sprinkle with salt and pepper to taste. Mix it all together and bake for about 15-20 minutes or until the edges of the florets are browned. I’m guessing, but I think this might be even better with either a squeeze of lemon juice or a sprinkle of cilantro to brighten up the flavor even more.

CSA Count: 3

Cauliflower, shalot, garlic

I don’t have any amusing stories to share, no semi-crazy rantings about any of the ingredients used in this soup, so this post will be short and sweet.

Basically, we got our first batch of kale in the CSA that week along with a pound of red potatoes. My mind instantly went to making a soup with those two vegetables and some smoked sausage in a Portuguese style soup. (Note I say “style” since I don’t think I’ve ever had Portuguese food and I frankly don’t know much about the Portuguese American culture beyond what’s portrayed in this favorite guilty pleasure.)

I wanted to make a healthy, light soup so rather than using linguica like a good Portuguese soup would, I used a turkey kielbasa. It still had that smoky, garlic flavor that linguica would have, but had less fat and was easier to find. I also decided to bump up the greens in the soup by adding the beet greens I’d reserved from when I made the chocolate beet cupcakes. So do I get double bonus points for being both healthy and economical?

I love how balanced the flavors were in this soup. There was sweetness from the fresh carrots and the caramelization of the sausage. That same sausage imparted salt, smoke and heat (hee!) while the kale and the beet greens gave a subtle bitter undertone. A couple tablespoons of tomato paste gave a rich red color to the broth while adding just a touch of acid. Lastly, the waxy potatoes kept their firmness giving a nice textural contrast to the soft, wilted greens. Hearty, but light at the same time, maybe the perfect soup to make for those of you adjusting to new year resolutions.

• 1 lb smoked turkey kielbasa
• olive oil
• 1 large onion, chopped
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 large carrots, sliced into thin rounds
• 2 tbsp double concentrated tomato paste
• 1 lb waxy red potatoes, quartered or halved depending on how big they are
• 6 cups chicken stock
• 1 bunch kale, chopped
• beet greens from 1 bunch of beets, chopped

In a cast iron skillet, heat about 2 tsp olive oil, enough to lightly coat the bottom of the pan. Slice the sausage on a diagonal into pieces about 1/2 inch thick. Add the sausage to the cast iron skillet and let them cook undisturbed for about 5-7 minutes per side, enough to get a nice brown caramelization to the sausage.

In the meantime, heat about 1 tbsp olive oil in the bottom of a Dutch oven or large soup pot over medium heat. Add the onion and cook until soft and translucent. Add the garlic and carrots and continue cooking for another 5 minutes or until carrots are softened. Add the sausage and the chicken stock. Add the tomato paste and stir until it dissolves into the broth. Bring to a boil then reduce the heat to a simmer. Add the potatoes to the soup pot and cook for 20 minutes or until potatoes are tender. Finally, add the greens and cook for a few minutes more or until the greens are softened. Ladle up!

CSA Count: 4

Carrots, red potatoes, kale, beet greens