Rhubarb Curd

I know, I know, back on the rhubarb train. It's funny...I don't think I can recall -ever- eating rhubarb even once in my childhood. Which is odd if you think about where I grew up.Rhubarb is the quintessential country spring fruit? veggie? stalk? (The definition isn't very clear), but here I am...just really discovering it for all it's magical properties. I have to wonder at the reason for this. Did somebody in my family dislike rhubarb? As often as we had strawberry pies (both homemade and bought from the ever illustrious Troyer's) and as often as strawberry is paired with rhubarb, you would think it would have come to visit every once and awhile.

It all started with the glaze, but I've been on a wild rhubarb ride ever since. I think it's that first blush of a new passion. (oh, and around these parts it's going to be another few weeks, at least, until the strawberries come in, so the old couplings are out - but the best advice is from The Kitchn blog: Don't wait for strawberries. It's May and winter was long. It's time to celebrate and enjoy rhubarb now.)

And so I did. I made their recipe for rhubarb curd. It has become the go-to toast topic around the apartment the past few weeks. It really is magical enough to eclipse peanut butter for a little while! So head on over and give the recipe a try. (Note: if I were to do it again I would cut the sugar though, so do as you see fit in that department.)

The First Asparagus of the Season

I knew it was coming. I first knew it on Wednesday when I heard rumblings that soon it would be here. I could scarcely believe it. Were the rumors true? Could it finally be time? Could the wait be over? As luck would have it: it was. Three vendors at the Farmer's Market this weekend had asparagus (and good, ready to eat asparagus, not stringy too early asparagus). It's the vegetable event of the season and I was there!

Okay...now that I've gotten really weird on you, let's talk asparagus. It is one of my absolute favorite vegetables. Not only is it delicious, but it was used as an ancient medicine to fight fatigue. There's probably a reason for this. Asparagus is a rich source of vitamin B6, calcium, magnesium, zinc, beta-carotene, vitamin C, vitamin E, vitamin K, folic acid, iron, phosphorus, potassium, and a ton of others. The list just goes on and on. (Of course, this list also includes the amino acid as asparagine which is important to the breakdown of ammonia in the body, but also responsible for the "side effects" of asparagus)


Now, how does one get all these benefits? Countless ways! There's asparagus soup, asparagus risotto, asparagus pizza, but honestly? The best way is the simplest way. Asparagus is great. There's no need to dress it up.

 

It's so simple, just toss the asparagus with a little minced garlic and olive oil and toss it in the oven for about 15 minutes (or on the grill for a little less than that). Serve with spaghetti and a dash of Parmesan cheese and bread crumbs. Trust me: it's heavenly.

Leek and Fennel Soup

Coming home to 50 degree Michigan from 80 degree Puerto Rico was a bit of a shock to my system. Not going to lie. 50 probably would have felt like a tropical heat wave just a month ago, but to me, this weekend, it feels like it does in September: soup weather. I suppose that's not a bad thing. It gives me a chance to display a spring vegetable soup! (And don't worry, I'll be waxing rhapsodic on the amazing cuisine of Puerto Rico soon enough.)

This soup is also, unfortunately, another in the "it doesn't look pretty, but I promise it tastes good" vein.

Well, it looks pretty before you blend it, at least.

Leek and Fennel Soup

(Inspired by these two recipes from Food52)

[What You Need]

2 leeks

1 bulb of fennel

Olive Oil

5 cups vegetable broth

1 cup buttermilk

Several big handfuls of fresh parsley

Parmesan cheese

Black pepper

[What to do]

1. Chop up fennel, leeks, and parsley. Set the parsley aside and saute the leeks and fennel in the olive oil.
2. Add stock and buttermilk. Bring to a slow boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 20 minutes.
3. CAREFULLY blend the soup until creamy.
4. Serve with a spoonful or two of Parmesan cheese and black pepper

Rhubarb Glaze (great for chicken or fish)

[Apologies for the delay, all. I've been working very hard to get the next book in the Season of the Witch series ready to go to my editor.]

I consider this recipe a very significant achievement. My boyfriend is far from a foodie. He's just not the type of person who gets really excited about food. High prize from him is "it was good." That's why I was so impressed by this concoction, because my boyfriend could not stop effusing about how good it was. Since making it, whenever I mention rhubarb, he immediately says "I could go for that fish thing again." I feel I have done my job well.

However, it might be controversial among my family members as it includes an ingredient that I love, but no one else seems to like. Feel free to leave it out if it's not your taste. You'll know which one it is.

Plus it's rhubarb. One of the first foods of the spring season. My dishes are starting to look colorful and inspired again.

Rhubarb Glaze

inspired by Epicurious.com

[What You Need] -(for a recipe to serve two with some leftovers)

Olive Oil

1/2 red onion

4-5 stalks of rhubarb 

1 T lemon juice

1/4 cup butter

3/4 cup sugar

4 T anise seeds

4 cups broth of choice (depending on what you're serving it with. I used mostly water and a T of chicken base)

[What To Do]

1. Heat Olive Oil. Add chopped onion and sautee until tender. Then add chopped rhubarb. 
2. Melt butter in saucepan. Add sugar and anise seeds. Heat until the sugar dissolves.
3. Add contents of saucepan and broth to rhubarb, always to simmer for ~1 hour until mixture has reduced by about 1/2
4. Serve over meat of choice. In our case we used white fish.

It may not look pretty, but is sure does taste good.

Roman Braised Artichokes

The last recipe I posted was a Sicilian artichoke recipe, so this week we're going to explore an artichoke recipe from another part of Italy.

This process was a little different, and it burned my fingers less. Though I have admit, as much as I enjoyed this recipe, I still preferred Bisnonna's. Guess that means I'm more of a Sicilian girl deep down. Sorry, Bisnonno.

Roman Braised Artichokes

inspired by Simply Recipes.

This recipe, instead of steaming then baking the artichokes, calls for soaking, then streaming in a sauce (which basically consists of onions, parsley, mint, and wine) for a longer period of time. I pretty much followed their recipe exactly (believe it or not, I do that from time to time), so it wouldn't be right to copy it out again, but head on over and give it a try. I'd love to hear your thought comparing the recipes from the two different regions. 

March and the struggle of an empty larder (with a garden to come)

It's April now, officially. But March, as a month, is a rough one for cooking. I was thinking about how uninspired most of my cooking was over the past month coupled with a very bare farmer's market and I began to think a lot about food and surviving a hard winter before it was possible for a person like me to go to the grocery store and pick up bananas.

It's so much harder imagining that sort of life than I like to admit.

I try so hard to eat seasonally. Strawberries are only allowed on my table in early summer. That's why we shop at the farmer's market whenever we can and are working on planting our own garden. For the first time ever, I get to work my own plot of land! No more five pots of sweet peppers hidden on the balcony. It's exciting: starting seedlings, waiting for ground to thaw (another reason I can't imagine having to rely on this garden for my food. This has been a particularly bad winter. We're just seen the ground for the first time since January about a week ago.). Really, the planning has gotten me through this truly uninspired month.

Gardening means a lot to me. 

I can remember my parent's garden and the year they accidentally crossbred strawberries and habanero peppers, creating a very interesting experience. I also remember my nonno's garden in the backyard: mostly made up of fragrant tomatoes for his famous sauce. Incidentally, we a planting a large number of fragrant tomatoes in our own plot this year. I hope to replicate that sauce someday. To make up for all of the terrible years I refused to eat it as a child.

Gardening's in my blood as much as anything.

Mi bisnonna in -her- own garden

Sicilian Stuffed Artichokes

When we came across some artichokes at the market, I was suddenly struck with a memory.

I said, "I'm going to make something really good, I just...have to remember how to make it."

And I tried. I checked the cookbook and was shocked by the lack of recipe (I'm still tagging this with "The Cookbook" because as far as I'm concerned it should be in there). I scoured the internet. I called my madre. All were a little stumped on one detail or another. But eventually we worked out something that I think was just right or close enough. It brought back a slew of memories and was just as divine as I had hoped.

Sicilian Stuffed Artichokes

inspired by a memory of something Bisnonna used to make

[What You Need]

Artichokes

Italian Breadcrumbs

Ground red pepper flakes

Parsley

Oregano

Grated Parmesan cheese

Mozzarella cheese

Tomato sauce

1 egg

[What To Do]

1. Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease a baking dish.
2. Steam artichokes briefly using your preferred method. (I cheat and use the microwave method which involves placing the artichokes in a shallow dish of water in the microwave for about five minutes). The artichokes should be tender enough to pull the leaves apart gently.
3. Mix stuffing: breadcrumbs, spices, parmesan cheese, and egg
4. Taking a deep breath and guarding against burning your hands, slowly pry the leaves apart and put stuffing inside. This step has me convinced that Bisnonna could not feel pain from heat (the story of the cannoli molds and no means of removing the shells from them after frying will be related at a later date). Place artichokes in baking dish as you do this.
5. Cover artichokes in tomato sauce to taste. In my memories, Bisnonna flooded them with sauce and sopped it up using bread. I didn't use quite that much and some of my outer leaves were a little dry, so take that as you will.
6. Sprinkle some mozzarella on top.
7. Bake for about 45 minutes to an hour.