Category Archives: The Recipes

Tuscan Kale with Blood Oranges: A Better Wintry Mix

The weather is seductively warm and balmy here today. We’ve hung the wash out on the line, started clearing brush in the yard, and snipped forsythia branches to force indoors. I know it’s going to turn freezing again this weekend, but I’m hoping we don’t get any more of that awful “wintry mix.” I think this is something the weathermen have dreamed up especially for the New England coastal islands this winter. Every time a big storm’s on the way, we watch the news expectantly, hoping to hear that we’ll awake to a beautiful blanket of snow the next morning. Instead, we always get the same news: “Stockbridge, you can expect 4 bazillion inches of snow. However, you folks down there on the Cape and Islands can expect a wintry mix: Sleet, freezing rain, ice.” Ugh. Instead of bright white, we get dull pewter.

Since I require bright color to keep me happy, I make up for the weather with vegetables. One of my favorite color combos is deep green and bright orange. This week at the grocery I spotted big bunches of leafy Tuscan kale right across the aisle from a bin of blood oranges, and thought bingo! What a great combo—a truly colorful wintry mix.

I’m surprised I haven’t written much on the blog yet about Tuscan kale, because it’s one of my favorite leafy greens, and we grew a lot of it last year, too. Unlike many leafy greens, Tuscan kale doesn’t bolt (go to flower), so you can keep harvesting from one plant for many weeks. It’s even better in the kitchen, because it has a much silkier texture and a less mineral-y flavor than regular curly kale. It’s lovely in soups, pastas, and gratins, but makes a versatile side dish, too.

If you want to cook (or grow) Tuscan kale, there’s just one problem. You will have to memorize a roster of names this green goes by so that you don’t miss it. When I first encountered this kale a few years back, I understood it to be Cavolo Nero, or black kale. Now it seems to be marketed most often as Lacinato; though you will also see it labeled Dinosaur kale to appeal to kids. I just stick with Tuscan kale. The good news is, despite the name confusion, it’s relatively easy to identify this kale by its looks. The leaves are long, straight, and quite narrow—and they have a distinctive webby, bumpy pattern on them.

When you get your Tuscan kale home, rinse the leaves, wrap them in a damp dish towel, cover with a big zip-top bag, and they’ll keep very well in the fridge for several days. You’ll need to pull or cut the woody stem out and chop the leaves before cooking. I don’t like the texture of rubbery, undercooked kale (of any sort), so I always cook my kales (Tuscan included) in boiling salted water just until they lose their unpleasant chewiness. This takes between 4 and 6 minutes for Tuscan kale. Taste a leaf after a few minutes and keep tasting so that you’ll know when the texture has changed. Drain the kale well and press excess moisture out. Then toss it with sauces (in or out of the sauté pan) or use in a gratin or pasta. (No need to pre-cook it if using it in soup.)

For the recipe I’ve included here, the colorful blood oranges (easily replaced with regular oranges) inspired a sweet and tangy sauce that includes my two favorite flavors with dark greens—maple syrup and balsamic vinegar. (Greens need vinegar or some other acid to cut through the earthy tones.) A generous hit of garlic completes this dish, which would be tasty with roast chicken or pork, or even with creamy polenta for a light veggie dinner.

Tuscan Kale with Orange-Maple-Balsamic Sauce

This recipe calls for segmenting a blood orange or orange—and it also calls for a tablespoon of the citrus juice. So segment your fruit first (over a bowl to catch the juices) and you can use some of the juice in the sauce mix. The segments will also continue to give off juice as they sit; feel free to include those juices in your final dish, too.

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1 tablespoon maple syrup
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
1 tablespoon fresh blood orange or orange juice
1 large bunch (about 10 to 11 ounces) Tuscan kale
kosher salt
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 1/2 to 2 teaspoons minced fresh garlic
big pinch crushed red pepper flakes
1 blood orange or small orange, peeled and segmented
2 tablespoons coarsely chopped toasted walnuts or pine nuts

_______________________________________

In a small bowl, whisk together the maple syrup, balsamic vinegar, and blood orange or orange juice. Set aside.

Fill a Dutch oven or other 4-quart pot two-thirds full of water. Add two teaspoons salt to the water and bring it to a boil.

Remove the ribs from the kale by grabbing the rib with one hand and ripping the two leafy sides away with the other hand. (Or use a paring knife to slice along the stem to cut it away from the leaves.) Discard the stems and chop the leaves into bite-size pieces.

Add the kale leaves to the boiling water and cook for 4 minutes. Taste a leaf—if it still feels tough or a bit rubbery, continue to cook the leaves for 1 to 2 minutes more.

Drain the kale very thoroughly in a strainer in the sink. Press down on the kale to remove some excess liquid. (You can use a folded over dishtowel if the kale is too hot to touch.) Let sit for a minute and then transfer to a mixing bowl. Put the blood orange or orange segments in a separate smaller bowl.

Meanwhile, in a small nonstick skillet, heat the olive oil and butter over medium low heat. When the butter has melted, add the garlic and the red pepper flakes. When the garlic begins to simmer, cook for just about 1 minute longer (do not let the garlic brown). Stir in the maple-balsamic-orange mixture and turn the heat up a bit to bring the mixture to a simmer. Simmer just briefly—about 30 seconds—and remove the skillet from the heat. Spoon about 2 teaspoons of the sauce mixture over the citrus segments. Pour and scrape the remaining sauce over the kale, season with a pinch of salt, and stir well.

Arrange the kale on a warm serving platter, garnish with the blood oranges, and drizzle over any juices or sauce left in both of the bowls. Sprinkle the toasted walnuts over all and serve right away.

Serves 3 as a side dish.

Hello Post Office, Goodbye Manuscript!

Yes, it’s Valentine’s Day, and it also happens to be my good friend Chris Hufstader’s 50th birthday. But disregarding these two events (almost) entirely, I woke up on Monday, February 14, 2011, completely focused on something else: Getting my cookbook manuscript into Express Mail.

Mission accomplished. At noon, Roy drove me to the West Tisbury post office, I got out my credit card, and handed over a pretty heavy box containing the manuscript, the disc, some test photos and a cover letter. If all goes as it should, the box will travel from my Island home in New England to my editor’s desk in downtown San Francisco by noon (Pacific Time) tomorrow, satisfying the contract I signed, which required me to deliver these things on February 15, 2011.

It feels both disorienting (now what do I do?) and a bit anticlimactic (in reality, I have been wrapping this up for the last several weeks). But also exciting. Writing Fast, Fresh & Green and then seeing what a beautiful book Chronicle produced was totally a cool experience as far as I was concerned. And even though there is still a lot of work ahead (including some work from me on metric measurements) to make Fresh & Green for Dinner a reality, I am looking forward to it. I will keep you posted on the production process, but bear in mind that the book won’t be released until early spring of next year. (And again, that all depends on lots of things going the way they should.)

In the meantime, I’m going to do what all good cookbook authors do—dream up another book! And do some magazine writing, plan a vegetable garden and a chicken coop—and, oh, clean my kitchen, clean my office, organize the garden tools, cook a lot of vegetables…that sort of thing!

P.S. We didn’t entirely forget Valentine’s Day around here. Over the weekend, Libby and I improvised Valentine’s cookies from Christmas cookie dough (Roy’s favorite) and Christmas decorations. We didn’t even have a proper heart cookie cutter, but we managed. Here’s the recipe in case you ever need a decorate-able –and tasty—sugar cookie for a special occasion.)

The Garden in Grey & White: Time to Think Green

I really don’t think I’m rushing things. I mean the seed catalogues arrived over a month ago. And so I’ve started to pester Roy about building our seed-starting shelves. I know we really don’t need to start the tomatoes for two months, but, you know, I like to be ready. Yes, it’s hard to think green when the garden looks like it does right now—all shades of grey and white. But I can’t help it if I’m kinda prone to over-excitement. (I got into a lot of trouble as a small child with this—I almost got kicked off a week-long stint on the Romper Room TV show in 1966 because I wouldn’t sit still. Apparently an ice cream bribe calmed me down. No surprise—that still works.)

Anyway, we are living in a new place this year, and we’ll be able to have our garden right out back. It was a lot of fun being at Native Earth Teaching Farm last year (and being near our neighbors, the baby goats), but it was a strain to shuttle back and forth every day. This year, it could be a blessing or a curse, but all we’ll have to do is tumble out of bed, pull on our boots, set the coffee off and head outside. There’s a lot of work ahead for us in preparing the garden here (see above!), but it’s an ample space that’s been gardened in the not-too-distant past. It sits up high and has plenty of sunlight. I can’t wait to work in it—of course after Roy builds the fence! I know, I’m bad—I will help him, I promise.

This year, we’re going to narrow our market crops to just a few things: greens, beans, potatoes, and tomatoes. And I’m going to use the rest of the garden in two specific ways for us. In part, it will be a kitchen garden, with plenty of greens and herbs for our everyday summer eating. (I can’t wait to get Ellen Ogden’s new book, The Complete Kitchen Garden.) And it will also function as a storage/winter-eating garden, with carrots, onions, potatoes, beets and turnips for the cold months. I’m not going to grow much in the way of squashes, eggplants, and peppers. They take up a lot of room and we don’t seem to eat as many of these as we do tomatoes and greens. When we need them, it’ll give us a good excuse to go to the farmers’ market and to barter with friends, too.

For the market garden, I’ve already ordered our tomato seeds and our potato and onion sets. (I told you I couldn’t wait.) I ordered mostly organic from the fabulous Fedco company in Waterville, Maine. They have incredible products at great prices. I’m trying out a couple new cherry tomatoes with great names and descriptions (love those seed catalogues!): Honeydrop Cherry Tomato and Be My Baby Gene Pool Cherry Tomato. We joined with our local Homegrown folks (a group of avid vegetable gardeners who meet once a month here on the Island to swap tips) for the potato (also from Fedco’s Moose Tubers division) and onion orders (from Dixondale Farms), so we’ll be saving a little money there. I’m trying to do the garden on a much smaller budget this year, so I didn’t splurge too much; I still have lots of viable seeds from last year, too. (At least I hope they’re viable). But since I’m such a nut about greens (both cooking greens and lettuces) and Fedco will hook you up with a small packet of lettuce seeds for less than $1.50, I went ahead and ordered some new lettuce varieties to try, including Flashy Green Butter Oak Lettuce and Speckled Amish Lettuce.

Oh, am I ever excited. I’ll let you know when we start the real work. And I’ll also let you know about the other big excitement coming around here—baby chicks! Future laying hens—at last, we’ll have our own eggs by fall if all goes well. (Of course, Roy is going to have to build a chicken coop, too—but he’s already designed it!)

P.S. Recipe blogs will return soon. I am strapped to the computer putting the final touches on my book manuscript, which will (please cross your fingers) be delivered to the post office next Monday…

Testing, Testing

It’s kind of sad. Now that recipe development for the new book is coming to an end, I won’t get to have my daily email and phone conversations with my two cross-testers, Jessica and Eliza. I mentioned a few weeks ago that Eliza, my best friend from childhood, is my chief “citizen” tester. (And that her family and friends are enthusiastic tasters. Right about now, though, I bet they’re happy they’re not eating quite as many vegetables!).

But before the recipes get to Eliza (and after I’ve created, tested, and retested them), they go to Jessica Bard. Jessica is a professional chef, food stylist, cooking teacher and recipe tester. She’s a graduate of the Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park, NY; worked on the CIA’s cookbooks for five years, and also is a former member of my staff at Fine Cooking magazine. So you could say that I have confidence in Jessica because of her professionalism and experience, and that would be so true. But it would only be a small part of the story.

Anybody who knows the effervescent (and always busy) Jessica Bard enjoys being around her. Her cheery, upbeat attitude and great sense of humor got me (and many of the rest of the Fine Cooking staff) through some pretty stressful times back in the day. When Fast, Fresh & Green came along, I knew I wanted her (and her positive energy) to be part of the experience of creating my first cookbook. (And then, of course, my second!)

The thing I admire most about Jessica is that she lives in the world, if you know what I mean. She embraces it all. Jessica and her husband Callum Benepe live in a cool barn they restored on her family’s property in Milan, N.Y. Jessica’s Dad lives next door. There is a constant stream of people coming and going, always enjoying Jessica’s food. Jessica created and tends an amazing vegetable garden, a space that inspired me, more than any other, to do my own big garden. One summer I went up to her place for a day just to imbibe what she knows about growing things. (That’s us back inside, above left, after some gardening–getting ready to cook together.)

There’s a whole list of other amazing creations spawned by Jessica’s never-resting imagination—including beautiful cakes and regular contributions to the Halloween parade in Greenwich Village—not to mention her own recipes. But probably my favorite creation is her recent collaboration with Callum—baby Grace! That’s Grace with a bowl of peanut noodles from the new book in the photo at left. When she’s not at day care, she’s an excellent taster!

I bring all this up because someone who’s going to cross-test recipes for a cookbook needs more than just excellent cooking and communication skills. It can’t be a person whose realm is the rarefied restaurant kitchen. It has to be someone who can know intuitively, when making a recipe, whether this is something a home cook would enjoy doing (or would even begin to tackle), whether the results are rewarding for the effort put in, and whether or not it’s the kind of thing a cook would want to serve to his or her friends and family. Jessica can tell me if I need to reduce the heat, add more acid, or use a different pan to fix a problem in a recipe (and she will!)—but she can also tell me if a recipe feels like it fits with the rest of the book or whether her husband or mother-in-law enjoyed eating it. (This is something Eliza brings to the table, too—she cooks for a big family daily, entertains at the drop of a pin, and gets lots of feedback.)

Lastly, Jessica is super-organized. Since I am ridiculously organized and a chronic list maker, it takes a lot to stay one step ahead of me–but Jessica does. I wouldn’t even know how to create the kind of recipe spreadsheets she keeps!

One particularly valuable thing she developed for us is the Recipe Test Evaluation Sheet (snapshot in the middle above). She created this for Fast, Fresh & Green and she and Eliza both have used it for Fresh & Green for Dinner. I thought blog readers might be interested in this, as I know from the frequent questions I get that recipe development is a mystery to most folks (more on that another time!). Here are some of the questions we have on the form:

  • Name of tester, Date of Test, Name of recipe,
  • Equipment—Type of oven or cooktop used (gas, electric, induction, convection)
  • Equipment—Pots, pan, utensils used (did you have the equipment recommended in this recipe?)
  • Ingredients—Did you have trouble finding any in this recipe? Any issues with measurements?
  • Method—How long did it take you to both prep and cook this recipe?
  • Method—Were the directions clear? (Consider timing, temperatures and doneness descriptions.) If not, please specify how they could be clearer and mark up the recipe.
  • Results—Was the serving size accurate? Did you like the results? Taste? Aroma? Appearance? Presentation?
  • 1-5 Taste Score 1 (bad) 2 (not to my taste) 3 (decent) 4 (good) 5 (excellent)
  • Any other comments?

  • So it’s not hard to see why I am so appreciative of the time, energy, and attitude commitment that both Jessica and Eliza have provided for me this time around. (I can’t tell you how many trips to the grocery store these guys have made, since the law of recipe testing is that you will never find all the ingredients in just one place. And then there’s that grilling in the snow…) I only hope we can all work together on another book very soon. That sounds crazy, I know, after the pace we’ve been working. But it’s been a lot of fun, too.

    By the way, both Jessica and Eliza were kind enough to take test photos of recipes along the way. Along with my photos (one from all three of us at the top of this blog), they’ll go in the package with the manuscript to my publisher, Chronicle Books, to help jumpstart the planning process for the real photo shoot.

    Green Cauliflower & Red Watercress–The Lure of Colorful Veggies on a Dark & Drizzly Winter Day

    I’ve always been a sucker for colorful vegetables. But hand me another dark, drizzly day, and you’ll find me going gaga at the grocery store for anything chartreuse…or fuchsia…or sunset orange. I need the color to stimulate my senses. The other day I saw a cool display of red watercress—something I’ve never seen before—and lurched towards it without even thinking. I brought it home and promptly mixed it with some pale lemony baby bibb (above right) for a delicious and pretty salad. That worked out pretty well.

    But sometimes I get myself in trouble. Take this whole green cauliflower thing (above left). I love this stuff, which I happen to call Broccoflower®. Because that’s what it’s labeled at my grocery store. I included a side dish recipe for it in Fast, Fresh & Green, and developed a pasta recipe with it for my next book. The problem came when I asked my cross-testers, Jessica and Eliza, to go find Broccoflower® in their grocery stores. Initially they both said they couldn’t find it. But both had the presence of mind to call me from the grocery store and describe what they did see. So after cell-phone exchanges and emailed photos, we determined that what both of them found was a very similar vegetable labeled “green cauliflower.”

    It turns out that Broccoflower®  is a registered trademark of Tanimura & Antle, a produce company that brought the variety (a cauliflower with some broccoli genes) over from Holland more than 20 years ago. Tanimura & Antle also has an orange cauliflower they call “Fiestaflower.” Meanwhile, another big produce company, Andy Boy, has begun marketing green cauliflower, orange cauliflower, and purple cauliflower in the last few years under those basic names. (All of these are purported to have the antioxidants you’d expect would pair with those colors.) As far as I can tell, Broccoflower® and green cauliflower are virtually the same thing. Whew. I was getting a little worried that I’d have to take the new recipe out of the book.

    It’s not just the color of green cauliflower (aka Broccoflower®) that I love. To my palate, it tastes a bit less cabbagey and a tad sweeter than white cauliflower. And when you cut it, the stems are a bit firmer—more broccoli-esque. And in general, I think it holds up better in cooking. Its florets are firmer than those of cauliflower, which can get a bit crumbly.

    Green cauliflower caramelizes beautifully in the sauté pan or roasting pan, so if you find some, crank up the heat. Then treat it to lemon, garlic (or another allium like scallions or leeks), and Parmigiano—three flavors it loves. (I’ve included a sample side dish recipe, below.) Serve it with roast pork or chicken, or turn it into a pasta sauce with a little chicken broth or pasta-cooking water and more olive oil or butter. It’s pretty darn tasty, which shouldn’t be surprising—I find the most colorful veggies taste the best, too.

    Lemony Green Cauliflower with Scallions & Parmigiano

    For this recipe, cut the florets on the small side—no more than about 1 1/2 inches long. It also helps browning if you cut whole florets in half—that cut side will have maximum contact with the hot pan and get very caramelized (see photo). Feel free to adjust the amount of lemon (or add a bit of lemon zest) here. And if you want a slightly saucier dish, deglaze the pan (to scrape up the flavorful browned bits) by pouring a bit  more chicken broth, water, or wine (diluted) in at the end. You can also enhance the sauce with a bit more cold butter.

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    2 tablespoons low-sodium chicken broth or water

    3 teaspoons fresh lemon juice

    12 ounces (3/4 pound) green cauliflower florets (a little less than one small head, cut into small florets)

    2 tablespoons unsalted butter

    1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil

    1 teaspoon kosher salt

    1/4 cup sliced scallions  (white and light green parts only) plus 1 tablespoon sliced green tops for garnish

    2 tablespoons coarsely grated Parmigiano Reggiano  (I use a food processor to chop coarsely)

    ________________________________________

    Combine the chicken broth or water with 2 teaspoons of the lemon juice and put it near your stove. In a 10-inch (3-quart) straight-sided stainless steel sauté pan, heat the olive oil and 1 tablespoon of the butter over medium heat. When the butter has melted, add the green cauliflower florets and the salt and toss and stir well. (A silicone spoonula works well for this.) Cover the pan and cook, stirring occasionally, until all the florets are browned in places, about 6 to 7 minutes. (There will be moisture accumulating inside the lid and it will drip down to deglaze the pan a little bit. But don’t worry if the pan is getting brown.)

    Uncover, carefully pour in the chicken broth or water and lemon mixture, and immediately put the lid back on (beware of steam). Cook until most of the liquid has steamed off or been absorbed, about 30 seconds. Uncover, turn the heat to low, and add the remaining tablespoon of butter, the remaining teaspoon of lemon juice, and the scallions. Cook, stirring gently, until the butter has melted and the scallions have softened, 1 to 2 minutes.

    Remove the pan from the heat and transfer all the green cauliflower and scallions to a serving dish or dishes. Sprinkle with the Parmigiano and the scallion tops and serve.

    Serves 3

    On the Menu: Roasted Butternut Squash with Cranberry-Ginger Butter and Toasted Walnuts

    A few weeks ago I mentioned my imaginary friend Shorty. Things have gotten worse. Now I have a whole bunch of imaginary friends. I had a party and invited them over two nights ago. It was a spur of the moment thing, so there was no time to invite real friends.

    I had been making my black bean chili all afternoon—one of the last recipes for the new book, and one I’m particularly excited about. But once I had a big pot of the stuff on my hands around 6 o’clock, I realized I needed to get an accurate read on the portion sizes—not just of the chili, but of the rice, the vegetables, and the garnishes that go with it. So I made all the accompaniments and then started putting out little bowls (each for a half-size portion), figuring I’d kill many birds with one stone. (Our pet, Ellie the Lovebird, with whom I have a tenuous relationship, did not like this analogy.)

    Not only did I want to test proportions, but I wanted to test different taste combinations. So I put little name cards next to the bowls as a fun way to indicate the different combinations. “I think I’ll blog about this,” I told Roy, who was looking at me with amusement. “No, I think I should write the next blog,” he said, “about what it’s like to live with a cookbook writer on deadline.” Needless to say, I’m keeping him far away from the keyboard.

    Happily both Roy and I and all of the imaginary guests (or as best as we can figure) liked all of the chili combinations. But everyone’s favorite vegetable topping for the bean chili was roasted butternut squash. I nibbled on the squash as we were cleaning up (the guests did not hang around to do the dishes), and I thought about what a delicious side dish roasted butternut is, simply diced up and cooked on high heat. But even better, a super-quick flavored butter (my favorite has lots of chopped dried cranberries, fresh ginger, and a little lime in it) turns this earthy-sweet vegetable into a real star. So I’m passing along that recipe—since I can’t share the chili recipe just yet.

    The only problem with this recipe is portion size (ack—the bane of my existence!). Even if you scooch up the amount of raw squash to 1 1/4 lbs. (any more than this amount on one large sheet pan will steam, not roast), you still only wind up with about enough to serve 3 people as a side, because this is so tasty. At least you won’t have to invite any imaginary friends to eat the leftovers.

    Roasted Butternut Squash with Cranberry-Ginger Butter & Toasted Walnuts

    ______________________________________________

    1 to 1 1/4 lb. peeled butternut squash, cut into 1/2-inch dice

    3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

    Kosher salt

    2 tablespoons unsalted butter

    3 tablespoons chopped dried cranberries

    1 teaspoon chopped fresh ginger

    1/4 teaspoon finely grated lime zest

    ½ teaspoon fresh lime juice; more if needed

    2 tablespoons finely chopped toasted walnuts

    2 teaspoons chopped fresh cilantro (optional)

    ________________________________________

    Preheat the oven to 450°F. Line a large heavy-duty rimmed sheet pan with a piece of parchment paper. In a mixing bowl, toss the squash with the olive oil and 1 teaspoon salt. Spread the squash in one layer on the sheet pan. Roast, flipping once with a spatula after about 18 minutes, until the squash are tender and  brown on the bottom and around the edges, about 12 minutes more or 30 to 32 minutes total.

    Meanwhile, melt the butter in a small saucepan over low heat and add the cranberries, the fresh ginger, and the lime zest. Stir well and cook to soften the cranberries a bit, about 1 minute. Take the saucepan off the heat while waiting for the vegetables to finish roasting.

    Transfer the squash to a mixing bowl. Reheat the cranberry butter to loosen it up if necessary. Add the ½ teaspoon lime juice, stir, and pour and scrape all of the cranberry butter into the bowl with the squash. Toss thoroughly but gently. Taste and add up to ½ teaspoon more lime juice if desired. Add the walnuts and cilantro (if using) and toss again. Serve right away.

    Serves 3 (maybe 4!) as a side

    Counting my Blessings: A Year in Veggies–Plus a Book, a Blog and a Best Friend, too

    I have everything in the world to be grateful for and nothing I dare complain about as 2010 turns into 2011 tonight. It was a year of firsts for me: I launched my first website/blog in February (hello sixburnersue!); my first cookbook, Fast, Fresh & Green, was published in April; and Roy and I sold our first vegetables out of our first market garden in June. Plus, in September we moved into an old farmhouse—something I’ve always dreamed of (literally—I’ve had visions in my head of just this kind of old place). Who knows how long we’ll be in the house, but for now it feels just right.

    But there’s one thing that’s not new this year, and it’s the thing I think most about (and am most grateful for) every year on this day. Because December 31 is my best friend’s birthday. Eliza (who I call Lou because it rhymes with Sue—something we schemed up as kids)  lives in York, Maine, now, but we grew up together in Washington, D.C. I, in fact, was waiting for Eliza when she came along six months after I was born. Our Moms got to know each other while they were both pregnant and became good friends. As soon as we could sit up, they plopped us on the floor together, and we haven’t stopped giggling since.

    Over the years, wherever we’ve lived (New York or California, Rhode Island or Colorado, Boston or Washington), we’ve never lost touch. Eliza has been my number one supporter through many crises—she is patient and understanding and the most people-smart person I know (she’s got more friends than I can count and she’s a great mom, too). And, guess what? She’s a great cook! Just a few months ago she agreed to be my chief “citizen” tester for the new book, so I am particularly grateful for her help just now. (And for Chip, Nathalie, Katie & James’ tastebuds, too.) So I’m taking the opportunity today not just to celebrate a wonderful year (the pictures tell the story), but a wonderful lifetime of friendship, too. Happy Birthday, Lou (aka Eliza Peter)! Now, what would I do if my best friend didn’t like to cook?!!!

    Snow Days and Side Dishes

    Even though I don’t have to go to school any more (or even to an office, for that matter), I still get that giddy feeling when it snows. A snow day! Oh boy! A day off! “Uh, Susie,” I then remind myself, “You don’t get a day off. You’re a freelancer.” Oh, right. A freelancer with a book deadline in less than two months.  Well, that didn’t stop me from venturing out into the fury on Monday to take pictures (that’s our backyard, above, at about 3 p.m.) or on Tuesday in the flurries to take more pictures (front window, about 1p.m.).

    Yes, I will do anything to procrastinate. But I did deliver 8 new recipes to my cross-tester (that’s cross-tester, not cross-dresser) on Sunday night, and I’ve been cranking away on five more since then. So, you know, I have to take a break every once in a while. All of this is a lame way of explaining why there is no Christmas recipe going up on the blog tonight. The blog recipe that I had in mind (Christmas Carrots for a Crowd) did not quite make it into the kitchen line-up today between Orecchietti with Lemony Broccoflower and Roasted Tomato Galettes (recipes for the new book, which, of course, I can’t publish here—nor would you want to eat them with your prime rib, anyway!).

    I had hoped my new kitchen angel (left), an early Christmas present to myself, might somehow make the days stretch longer for me, so I could fit more in. But no such magic today. At least we are past the solstice now, as here in the Far East, the sun sets at 4 and it’s hard not to feel like the day is over when darkness comes—though that’s normally the time I’m gearing up to do one last test for the day.

    At any rate, I don’t have many recipes on the site that are suitable for large crowds, but just in case you’re dining with a small, intimate group, and just in case you haven’t finalized your menu (I know, I’m late in the game here), the least I can do is suggest some favorite and appropriate holiday sides already posted on sixburnersue.com:

    I think the most popular recipe on this site may be these Braised Fingerlings with Crispy Sage & Tender Garlic. So yummy and a classic update for serving with beef tenderloin. A Bed of Buttery Leeks and Spinach would be a great landing spot for a few slices of tenderloin, too. For prime rib? This Yukon Gold and Celery Root Gratin. Or the Potato Galette with Fresh Rosemary …and Roasted Cauliflower, too. For roast turkey? Caramelized Turnips, Potatoes & Carrots or the Mashed Yukon Gold Potatoes with Roasted Garlic. Ham? Slow-Sauteed Green Beans with Shallots & Bacon or a double recipe of Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Nutty Lemon-Maple Brown Butter. Salmon? Maybe this Baby Bok Choy recipe or a double recipe of Popeye’s Garlic Spinach.

    Whatever you decide to cook, I hope you have lots of kitchen angels to help. Merry Christmas from Sixburnersue and snowy Martha’s Vineyard!

    Christmas Presents Past and Future

    Today I made up an imaginary friend named Shorty. I was writing a head note for a recipe (one that involves short-grain brown rice) and was fresh out of clever things to say. This is what happens when you agree to write a book quickly—your creativity gets taxed mightily. So much so, in fact, that no new recipe blog is coming forth from me today.

    Instead I decided to write (quickly) about the other thing that is very much on my mind—Christmas shopping. I have, in fact, barely done any yet, which is Not Good. I can’t do much about that right this minute, but I thought maybe I could help you, since probably you have an equivalent of a book deadline hanging over you and are behind with your own efforts. Or maybe some wonderful friend or your husband or your mother wants to know what you want for Christmas.

    Here are five ideas. They just happen to be some of my favorite kitchen tools. People often ask me about kitchen equipment. Sometimes the questions are real stumpers, like whether they should buy the newest combined microwave-convection-infrared-lightspeed-oven, whereupon I stare at them blankly since I haven’t been in the market for a new stove in 10 years. But when it comes to simple kitchen tools, I can babble on (my specialty).

    My very favorite thing is a pink-handled knife from Kyocera. Well, honestly, it’s not the color of the handle that did it for me (yes, pink is my favorite color), though I do love the fact that every purchase of this knife sends $5 to the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation. It’s the ceramic blade—so darn sharp, and it has been that way every day that I’ve used it for the past five years (which is almost every day). The Santoku-shaped blade is only 5 1/2 inches long, so this isn’t your big chopping knife; I think of it more as a utility knife. I use it for thin-slicing potatoes, cutting up broccoli florets, slivering garlic, halving Brussels sprouts, trimming green beans…lotsa things.

    The tool I use most in the kitchen—maybe even more than my ceramic knife—is a pair of OXO tongs. Three pairs, actually (two 9-inchers, one 12-incher.) I think I first got attached to tongs when I worked in restaurant kitchens, where pot holders don’t exist. (Come to think of it, neither do most common kitchen utensils.) You can use tongs to pull out hot oven racks and sheet trays, turn over delicate veggies or meats while sautéing, move anything around in a pan, or, of course, to handle anything on the grill. I particularly like the grip and the locking mechanism on the OXO Good Grips tongs.

    I eat and cook with a lot of eggs, so I’ve messed around with many whisks. The silicone-coated balloon whisk from Le Creuset is the most efficient whisk I’ve ever used. I flick it around a few times and voila, my eggs are perfectly mixed. It’s a little bottom-heavy so occasionally it does fall out of a bowl, but I love it (and its color) nonetheless.  I probably don’t need to say anything about silicone spatulas other than, if you only have one or two—buy more! I have them in a rainbow of colors and sizes (I like a spoonula shaped one, too) from both OXO and Le Creuset. I still have my wooden spoons, but they spend more time looking good in an old ceramic baked-bean jar than my silicone spatulas, which hit the pans (especially nonstick ones) every day.

    Lastly, I don’t know what I ever did without a Microplane® zester for zesting lemons, limes, and oranges. I love to use zest as a flavor booster in pan sauces, rice dishes, salad dressings, flavored butters…and this tool just makes getting that feathery zest (minus the bitter pith) a breeze. Use it for finely grating Parmigiano, too. I like my funky original one so much that I haven’t invested in one of the many newer ones with comfortable handles, but you could.

    One last Christmas idea: Buy a goat! No, I haven’t completely lost it—yet. I just happen to love this idea: Instead of (or in addition to) giving an actual material gift to one of your friends,  OXFAM America will let you “buy” (make a donation in a certain amount) a gift (in your friend’s name) for a community in need. ($25 will buy a school lunch program for one child, $30 a vegetable garden for one family. The goat—a great source of milk, fertilizer and food in hardscrabble areas, is $50!) Your friend will get a Christmas card letting him or her know the donation has been made. I’m not saying you need to skip the kitchen goodies—just that one of these cards tucked next to the spatulas in a Christmas stocking might be in the true spirit of things.

    Wherever your gift buying or gift giving leads you this holiday season, I hope you can keep that true spirit close by. Spend time with your friends—and not just the imaginary ones!

    P.S.  Oops, I almost forgot. I know this is really not in the true spirit of Christmas (blatant self promotion—I don’t think so), but remember that Fast, Fresh & Green makes a great Christmas present, too! Be sure to try and patronize your local bookstore this season if you can.

    Winter Skies & Parsnip Fries

    With the sudden cold this week came a change in the sky. I looked up at twilight and there were those magical trees, spindly and Fantasia-esque, their branches bare and brittle, silhouetted against the bluer-than-blue sky of a December afternoon on the Vineyard. This windblown tree-scape of the Island winter might seem austere to some, but it’s comforting to me, and I’m glad it’s arrived—if seemingly overnight. This is the very vista that enveloped me when I arrived here three winters ago, spent and unsure. It offered me a wide-open gift of calm and space. The gnarly trees led me into the woods, down paths to hidden coves and rocky beaches, through tufted fields, around lichen-licked stone walls, up bumpy hills to breathtaking views. I’d always been afraid of the woods, but here, with sparkly views peeking through the leafless Beetlebungs and stubborn scrub oaks, I forged ahead and gained courage and confidence.

    Now my favorite season on the Vineyard brings another intangible perk—friends circle together and catch up after the busy season. There are potlucks and indoor markets and special events like the winter film festival. But as it happens, you most often run into your friends at the post office and the grocery store. Me, I am at the grocery store a lot. So I get to see lots of friends, and I also get a peek at what everyone’s cooking.

    The other day I ran into my hen-whisperer friend, Katherine Long. Not only does she have the most amazing chickens, chicken coops, and chicken eggs (of course), but she is a cook extraordinaire, so I love chatting with her. She was clutching a bag of parsnips. “Mom’s coming,” she said matter-of-factly. “And she wants veggies. I’m thinking maple-mustard parsnips.” “Perfect!” I said to her, “And what a coincidence…” I instantly remembered that I’d developed a delicious recipe for maple-mustard glazed parsnips for Fast, Fresh & Green, but that it was one I had to excise from the book (I wrote too many recipes, naturally).

    Suddenly I had parsnips on the brain. I started to feel bad that I’d mentioned sweet potato fries last week, and hadn’t given poor parsnips their due. Parsnips, in fact, make excellent oven fries, though they are much drier than sweet potatoes. And they’re delicious sautéed, though all that sugar makes them brown up fast.

    The next day I went straight to the Winter Farmers’ Market and bought the last bunch of freshly dug parsnips Morning Glory Farm had brought with them. (Copious greens still attached.) I’m sure there are more where those came from, as parsnips get sweeter when the ground freezes (the cold converts their starch to sugar), and they keep well in cold storage, too (kind of like the heartiest Islanders). Really, this pretty white root is the quintessential winter vegetable. So this week I’m offering up the recipe for the mustard-maple glazed parsnips and the directions for making the fries—to assuage my guilt for not having blogged about parsnips sooner. But also, to celebrate the arrival of winter—even if there is very little insulation in our charming little house and, it is, well, cold. I did say I loved winter on the Vineyard, didn’t I?

    How to Cut Parsnips

    I think parsnips look lovely and cook best when cut into long, thin pieces. I call these pieces “sticks,” and that’s a fine goal to aim for, but in reality many pieces will have tapered edges and some will be thicker than others. For small or medium sized parsnips, I don’t bother to cut the woody core out—it cooks up just fine. First I cut the long parsnip in half, crosswise, right about where it goes from fat to skinny. I quarter the skinny end lengthwise and usually wind up with 4 pieces between 1/4 and 3/8 inch thick. (Pieces on the skinnier side are a bit better for the sauté; you can cut the fries a bit fatter.) With the fat end of the parsnip, I cut a very thin sliver off of one side so that I can roll it over and stabilize it. Then I cut it lengthwise into planks (see top left in photo). Then I lay the planks down and cut them into sticks.

    Maple-Mustard Glazed Parsnips

    The trick to sautéing the parsnips in this recipe is to moderate the heat so that the veggies are cooking through and browning at the same time. On my stove, the ideal heat is around medium, but sometimes I wind up turning the heat down to medium-low to slow down the browning while the steaming catches up. But everyone’s stove is different, so keep an eye on the veggies. If they are browning too quickly (before they begin to lose their opacity), turn the heat down a bit. Lower and slower is better than higher and faster in this case. The easy maple-mustard glaze gives these a depth and richness that could stand up well to a hearty braise like a pot roast.

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    2 tablespoons maple syrup
    2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
    2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
    1 tablespoon unsalted butter
    1 pound parsnips, trimmed, peeled and sliced into sticks 2 to 4 inches long and between 1/4- and 3/8-inch wide
    kosher salt

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    In a small bowl, whisk together the maple syrup and the mustard and set near the stove. Arrange a serving dish near the stove as well.

    In a large (12-inch) nonstick skillet, heat the olive oil and butter over medium heat. Add the parsnips and 1/2 teaspoon salt, and cook, stirring gently and frequently (a silicone spatula works well), until the parsnips lose their opacity, become golden brown all over, and are tender, 15 to 17 minutes. (The parsnips will begin browning after 6 to 8 minutes. If they are browning too quickly—before they lose their opacity—turn the heat to medium-low. After stirring each time, spread the parsnips out in the pan so that they have maximum contact with the heat.)

    Remove the pan from the heat and immediately add the maple-mustard mixture. Stir right away as the mixture reduces and coats the vegetables. Immediately transfer the parsnips and any sauce in the pan to a serving bowl. Let cool for a minute or two, taste and season with more salt if desired. Serve right away.

    Serves 3 as a side dish

    Roasted Parsnip Fries

    When you buy a 1-lb. package of parsnips at the grocery, it will often contain more like 1 1/4 lb. Weigh your roots at home if you can, as 1 lb. is about the maximum for roasting on a large sheet pan. (The parsnips will steam rather than roast if they are too crowded. Use two pans if necessary.) The lime-maple drizzle here is very tasty, but optional. You could season the fries with spiced salt or serve with some other kind of dipping sauce, like honey-mustard.

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    1 pound parsnips, trimmed, peeled, and cut into sticks 2 to 3 inches long and 3/8-inch/1-cm wide
    2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
    kosher salt
    1 teaspoon fresh lime juice (optional)
    2 teaspoon maple syrup (optional)
    sea salt for sprinkling (optional)

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    Preheat the oven to 450 degrees F. Line a large rimmed heavy-duty baking sheet with parchment paper. In a mixing bowl, combine the parsnip sticks with the olive oil and 1/2 tsp. kosher salt. Toss well and spread in one layer on the baking sheet. Roast until the “fries” are nicely browned (mostly on the bottoms) and tender, about 20 minutes. (If the pan is crowded, they can take 30 to 35 minutes. Check frequently as browning goes fast.) Let cool for a couple minutes on the sheet pans and then sprinkle with a bit more salt. Or combine the lime juice and maple syrup (if you like), drizzle over the fries, and season with coarse salt. Eat right away.

    Serves 3 as a side dish