Showing posts with label salt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label salt. Show all posts

Saturday, August 11, 2012

Holy Kohlrabi!


I have heard of kohlrabi, seen kohlrabi, could probably likely identify it if needed to, but it never occurred to me to actually try it. So when I was at the Farmer's Market last week, I found myself in a talkative mood. Sometimes you just want to get in and get out and woe betide the one who tries to strike up a conversation with you. You don't get that? Maybe it's me.

I was looking for something unusual to bring home. Kale was stricken from the kitchen due to Guitar Boy, ("I don't like the texture," he wailed at me once,) and if I had to look at another zucchini, I might find myself ramming it down someone's throat. Tomatoes, well, yeah, tomatoes are nice, but tomatoes, tomatoes, tomatoes. So my eyes alighted on a deep purple alien ball: "Kohlrabi, .50" as I was purchasing a pint of Italian plums. (You cannot get between me and my plums, so don't even try.)

"Oh, kohlrabi," I said outloud.

"Yes, kohlrabi, you'd love it, it's awesome." The lady at the stand jumped in.

"How do you eat it?"

"You peel it, then slice it thinly, and just sprinkle some salt on top. It's great, you'll love it." She snatched up a spiky royal-colored one and plopped it in my bag. 

"Oh, like a radish?" My moment of enlightenment.

"Yes! Try it and you'll be coming back for more."

"Er... okay, wow, thanks!" and I walked away.

So why wasn't I overly thrilled for being offered a kohlrabi? I have a mild dislike of radishes (understatement.) Being handed this enormous extraterrestrial vegetable that promised to be an oversized, probably more pungent, radish wasn't making me skip for joy.

I find radishes bland with a peppery aftertaste. There's no excitement there. Then, as they sit out, they become slightly rubbery which tended to happen in my household growing up. My mom harbored an unhealthy love for these red and white balls, serving them with buttered bread and salt. Sometimes, she'd throw them into salads. I ate around them, always. She would just have a bunch of slices lying around and nibble at them throughout the day, blech.

But my philosophy is, well, you can't say you hate something without even trying it. So, literally an entire week later, I finally remembered the kohlrabi in my crisper and brought it out to the counter. I stared at it, took a picture or two because, well, it's pretty and unusual so why not. Then, with a peeler, I attacked one side of it. I got the purple peel off, then continuing to use the peeler, I cut out ultra-thin slices. A sprinkle of salt. I ate a piece. Then, another. Then, another. Then I toasted a slice of bread, spread it with a dab of dijon mustard and a kiss of honey and piled loads and loads of sliced kohlrabi on top. Sprinkle of salt, dash of pepper, and a squeeze of lemon.

Holy Kohlrabi!


In my mind, this kohlrabi has proved itself far and beyond the lowly radish. I offer no sorrow for those pitiful things because... kohlrabi.

It turns out there's so much more you can do with kohlrabi other than thinly slice them and dress them with a dusting of salt. I don't know why you want to try because this is kind of perfection on its own, but like one gets sick of zucchini after the upteenth recipe, it's nice to have a backup. You can pickle them, roast them, shave them into salads, turn it into a ceviche, deep fry them, steam them, and probably throw them into a stew with much too thick gravy (guilty.) I can't picture things like cucumber or radishes being cooked (ew, limp, warm radishes,) but kohlrabi has a promise of releasing luscious sweet sugars to caramelize and send the vegetable to a whole new level of food.

I will get around to trying one of the cooked recipes for kohlrabi, but until then, I'm content with a slice of bread and salt. 

By the way, I did go back for more, just like she said.

Monday, July 9, 2012

Oven-Roasted Tomato Basil Pesto and Ohio City Pasta

So it's finally cooled down in Crackron- I mean, er, Akron, enough to turn on the stove. I was so excited to cook again. No, really, so excited. So I ended up making a semi-elaborate meal to celebrate and spoil Guitar Boy with. 


(Read: elaborate in any incarnation over here means utilizing something other than a chopping board and a skillet to create a dish. Case in point: the Ninja blender finally, finally came out of its box.)

I took the Ninja on it's maiden chopping voyage with a pesto recipe. Well, it's really kind of like a bastardized sorta-kinda-not-really pesto, but still pesto because it looks like pesto, smells like pesto, and acts like pesto. 

And there's the rumble of angry Italian mothers coming and ready to paddle my behind.


And to make them even angrier... there's a weird ingredient in here. Just trust me though.

So I bring you oven-roasted tomato basil pesto. I shall offer this up to appease the angry Italian mothers and tell them it is divine, creamy deliciousness. They'll believe me. I think.

Get together for just over 1/2 cup worth's:
  • 2 roma tomatoes, quartered
  • 4 cloves garlic (more or less to your preference)
  • Heaping tsp peanut butter (You read that right. See below for more information.)
  • 1/4 cup Parmesan cheese or whatever you have in your pantry
  • 3/4 cup to 1 cup fresh basil leaves
  • up to 1/4 cup olive oil plus more for roasting
  • 1/2 lemon, juiced
  • Salt and pepper to taste
Now to make it:
  • Preheat oven to 450 degrees. In a small roasting pan, layer the quartered roma tomatoes skin side down and drizzle olive oil to cover. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. 
  • Take the garlic cloves paper skin-on and place into a square of aluminum foil. Drizzle olive oil to cover and sprinkle with salt and pepper as well. Wrap the garlic up tightly in the foil. 
  • Roast both in the oven for about 15 to 20 minutes until tomatoes are softened and the edges slightly burnt. 
  • Take out and set aside until cooled.
  • Peel the burnt skin off the tomatoes and add to the food processor. Squeeze the garlic out of the papery skin. It's okay if it's not completely softened, we still want a bit of a bite. Add to the processor. Blitz the processor a few times to break up the tomatoes.
  • Add in this order: peanut butter, cheese, and basil leaves. Squeeze the lemon over the top. Begin pureeing.
  • While pureeing, drizzle the olive oil into the processor until it starts to become smooth and easy to puree. Be careful not to add too much that it becomes oily and runny. Stop and check and taste every so often.
  • Taste and add salt and pepper as needed.
  • Voila, you have oven-roasted tomato basil pesto-but-not-pesto.


Now, for those of you who raised an eyebrow at my use of peanut butter. In my defense, I'm not a fan of going out to buy a single ingredient. Besides, pine nuts, the ingredient found in pesto, are expensive. I added a teaspoon of peanut butter just to give the sauce a little bit of body and to add a slightly nutty background flavor. Also, I used the kind that is just dry roasted peanuts with sea salt, no added sugar or flavorings. It's not so much that you can sit there and say, "Oh, I taste peanuts!" because that wouldn't be so good. If you are wary, add a little bit at a time and taste, then add more and taste, you'll see the difference and improvement. However, if you rather be all traditional, by all means, throw some pine nuts in there! It's your dish after all!

I served it with this fabulous, delicious tomato basil pasta from Ohio City Pasta that I got at the farmer's market. I simply sauteed candy onions (find it at the farmer's market!) with mushrooms, then added the linguini with three spoonfuls of the pesto and a little pasta water to thin it out. 

The pizza slices you see on the plate will be another post, or else you'd be reading one uber-long post! Hungry yet?

What's your favorite pesto recipe? Traditional or off-the-wall?

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Spicy Lemon Ginger Vegetable Stir Fry

I didn't care about buying a wok when we moved and had to stock our kitchen from scratch. However, Guitar Boy was obsessed with finding one. It had to be a big one and it absolutely had to have a glass lid "so I can see what's cooking inside," he said to me every time we looked at one. Every time. I cared more about getting an immersion blender.

Well, we have a wok thanks to Bed Bath and Beyond and their coupons. And I still don't have an immersion blender. Though the wok has been nice, I still think an immersion blender would've been a better buy, but alas, I make do. (See my tomato soup recipe for my ingenious, if I may say, use of a potato masher.)


Dinner last night was a quick and healthy stir fry. Typically we use vegetarian oyster and mushroom sauce or just a run-of-the-mill stir fry sauce from the Asian market but they can be packed with sodium, sugar, and god knows what else. I wanted to avoid using them this time just because we had been eating pretty crappy the day before (read: two giant doughnuts each and pizza and cheese and much too sweet Ohio wine and crap and more crap and more crap.) So I really amped up the spices and flavors in this one to make up for the lack of that ooey gooey deliciously overly processed sauce.

Also, you don't absolutely need a wok for this recipe. Woks are nice for having a ton of surface area that can cook all the vegetables all at once, but a large skillet over high heat will do just as well.

Also, again, you can use your favorite vegetables. I used whatever I had on hand, but you can switch it up with your favorite add-ins. The ingredients in bold is what makes up the flavor and sauce so they shouldn't be swapped out.


Get together for 2 main dish or 4 side dish servings:
  • 1 onion, sliced thinly
  • 3 carrots, sliced in half-moons
  • 1 large Hungarian sweet pepper, chopped coarsely
  • 1 small (8 oz?) box of sliced baby bella mushrooms
  • Splash of dry white or rice wine (optional)
  • 2 tomatoes, chopped coarsely
  • 3/4 to 1 tbsp ginger, minced
  • 3/4 to 1 tbsp garlic, minced
  • Pinch or dash or heaping spoonful of cayenne pepper (whatever floats your boat)
  • 1/2 lb swiss chard, rolled up and sliced into 1/2 inch strips
  • Enough Rice or Pad Thai noodles for two large servings, prepared 
  • 2 or 3 packets or 2 or 3 tbsp of your favorite soy sauce (add more or less to your preference)
  • 1 lemon, juiced
  • 5 or 6 large basil leaves, torn
  • Salt to taste
Other vegetables you can use: broccoli, peas, corn, snow peas, water chestnuts (not a veg, I know,) bell peppers, red onions, shallots, cauliflower, kale, collard greens, napa cabbage, broccolini, portobella mushrooms, celery, eggplant (Japanese or traditional,) and anything else that strikes your fancy. Just eyeball the amount and go for it.

And to make it:

It's best to have everything all chopped and prepared in advance because stirfry cooking is over high heat and fast.
  • Prepare the noodles according to package directions.
  • Heat up sesame oil over medium high to high heat in the wok. Peanut and canola oil work too. Do not use olive oil. Add in the onions, carrots, and pepper and let cook a minute or two until soft and onions become slightly translucent. Then, throw in the mushrooms and stir and let cook for a few more minutes.
  • Optional: Add a splash of dry white or rice wine to deglaze or just flavor, let it reduce down.
  • Add in the tomatoes, ginger, garlic, cayenne pepper, and swiss chard and let it simmer and cook down slightly- about 3 minutes.
  • Continue cooking until the swiss chard (or your favorite green) is tender, tasting and adding more cayenne pepper if desired. 
  • Lower the heat to low, stir in the noodles and season with soy sauce and lemon juice starting with 1/2 a lemon. Taste and add more lemon juice, soy sauce and/or salt if needed. (Soy sauce has sodium so salt by tasting.)
  • Sprinkle basil over the top and serve!
 Do you make stir fry a lot? What's your go-to set of ingredients? When we're low on prep time, we turn to frozen broccoli, peas, and mixed vegetables to make a fast and healthy dinner.


The Truth About Salt and How to Salt Food

Okay, this is about salt. Salt is a vital part of cooking. It always has been, it always will, and it always should be, every time. (Image Credit)


I know there will be an argument that some people can't have salt due to high blood pressure. However, according to Health.org, "75 percent of the sodium we consume is hidden in processed foods like tomato sauce, soups, condiments, canned foods and prepared mixes." That's a lot of sodium that we don't have control over. Imagine that, just 15% of the average intake comes from salting at our own discretion. 

The truth is, the amount of salt we add to our dishes can't even reach the level of sodium found in most processed foods. A can of tomato soup can have several times more sodium than the amount you would throw into a pot of homemade soup. Just keep in mind, the recommended healthy daily intake given by LiveStrong.com for sodium is 1,500 mg (2,300 mg being the max) "or less than 600 mg per serving size. For instance, 1 cup of Campbell's split pea soup contains 779 mg of sodium. On the other hand, a 2-cup serving of a homemade split pea soup from "The Mayo Clinic Williams-Sonoma Cookbook" contains 364 mg of sodium."

My point is, when you salt while cooking, use a generous hand and rest easy that you won't be pushing the limits of what's healthy and what's not.

That said, I want to explain how I salt in my cooking. I picked this tip up from one of Michael Symon's cookbook. (You know, back before he became a bacon-and-pork-loving caricature of himself. I'll just leave it at that. Go Zack Bruell!) Anyway, he said that we should salt our food in stages so that in the end, we're not dumping a handful of salt in our pots. "It's too late by then," he says. The dish develops flavors aided by salt throughout the cooking process. And salting your dish after it's hit the dining room table? Way too late.

Salt isn't meant to make food salty. Its properties help draw out the flavors that already exists in the ingredients. It brightens the essence and makes it bolder, more stand out. It also helps melds the ingredients together into a single savory, sweet, tart piquancy. So no, salting your dish isn't to make it salty, it's to make it flavorful. So when you're tasting, you're looking for the taste of what went into the dish. Is it stronger, brighter, or even milder in case of onions, garlic, and other pungent ingredients? (Image Credit)
 
Even though my recipes I've posted so far say to salt to taste somewhere near the end of the method, I wanted to take the time to explain how I do it so you can choose the way you like best. I begin the salting process at the very beginning. Most dishes start with onions and sometimes celery, carrots, and/or peppers. I let the vegetables hit the hot olive oil and give a good shake of salt over it- just enough that it flavors the vegetables in the pan already. After each step or two, I'll give it another shake of salt, being sure to taste it often to make sure the seasoning doesn't become too much.

In the case of using vegetable stock or bullion cubes, I am a little less liberal with my salt since these two ingredients tend to have a bit of sodium already. I make a point to buy low-sodium versions where I find them too.

Just think about it though, you've seen chefs on television demonstrating a recipe. Take the time to notice just how much salt they throw in. It's usually quite a bit, a palmful or handful nearly every time. These chefs know what they're doing and trust me, they're not cooking special occasion dishes, this is how they cook everyday.

The type of salt I use? Sea salt. As for the differences between table, kosher, and sea salt, I'll go over that in another post so you're not completely overwhelmed. I just threw a bunch of information at you already, but I hope that you're looking at how you salt your food a lot differently now. I don't know about you, but I'm suddenly craving a bit of salt right now!