Sunchokes, otherwise known as Jerusalem artichokes, are funky. They are neither from Jerusalem nor an artichoke. A tuber that grows on the underground stem of a certain species of sunflower, sunchokes look like the offspring of a potato and a knob of ginger. The taste took me back to my childhood when I used to eat raw potatoes–why I ate them raw, I’m not sure–but nonetheless, this odd root has nutty, starchy, slightly sweet undertones with a texture similar to jicama.
There are two vacant lots a few houses down from mine. Currently, they serve little purpose other than a place to play ball, a cut-through to the alley and a place where we left our leftover Halloween pumpkin for the local wildlife to feast upon…until the other day when my husband and son arrived home with a very special find from a tree on-site. As green as a lime, as smooth as an apple and the size of an orange, it was clearly unripe, but I wasn’t sure of what exactly it was. Its ovoid shape and stem had the unique hallmarks of a persimmon; I was fairly certain that they had stumbled upon a Hachiya persimmon tree. Upon further research, we found that this was a black sapote—cousin of the persimmon—but very different, so much so that its nickname is the chocolate pudding fruit.
Deep in my memory bank, I house a poem from my youth—a tongue-twister, actually—a tongue-twister about butter. Although the name of the book escapes me, the poem was about a girl recognizing the importance of good butter. How can something made solely of cream—and sometimes salt—add such depth of flavor to so many things both sweet and savory alike? It’s pretty amazing: I can see why a poem might be composed applauding its awesomeness. Even margarine—butter’s non-dairy competitor—is barely called margarine anymore: it’s called buttery spread or buttery sticks. Because even if you can’t eat the real deal, you want your substitute to taste just like it. And what’s even better than real butter? Homemade butter!
When I think of hash, I am transported back to my college-day, 3am, post-clubbing haunt: Village Inn. VI’s Garden Skillet was almost always what I ordered and it was the epitome of comfort food. My very own cast iron skillet filled to the brim with potatoes, onions, veggies, gooey cheese and topped with two runny eggs. It wasn’t until many years later that I started making my own hash at home and it is still one of my favorite go-to meals.
As we are muddling our way through the COVID19 pandemic, most of our meals have been made at home—we have only ordered takeout a handful of times—which is a major change for us. When grocery store visits are being kept to a minimum and resourcefulness is on the forefront, hash is the perfect meal: it is one of the tastiest and easiest ways to clean out your fridge! And even during non-pandemic times when you find yourself just blankly staring inside the refrigerator without a clue of what to make—you know what I’m talking about: busy day, no time to shop, the kids have sports or a ton of homework, bellies are grumbling and time is ticking by the second? That’s the perfect time for hash. Potatoes and onions are the only two core items needed for this ultimate comfort food: if you’ve got those two staples, you’re golden. Start rummaging and dicing…
It’s summer for me and that means more cooking and writing! As I looked back on my posts over the last couple of years, I realized that I was so focused on recipes and photos, I had forgotten all about the Tidbits section of my blog! It’s all about sharing a cooking tip, quick recipe, or new discovery. This week’s new discovery is Green Garlic.
Ok, so maybe a bunch of blueberries: maybe even a truckload. Since it pretty much feels like varying degrees of summer all year ’round in Florida, I rely on produce to tell me when summer has officially arrived: corn, cherries, melons, and stone fruit are in abundance. Best of all, it’s finally time when organic berries don’t cost an arm and a leg for a half-pint. Florida’s strawberry season comes sometime between December and February, but summer is when blackberries, raspberries and blueberries come into their own here. Last month, I found an entire pint of blueberries for $3.99…I bought two. I should have bought four. I went back to Publix a couple of weeks after and they were $3.00…I bought six. Six pints of blueberries; that’s about 14 cups! I laughed as they practically filled an entire shelf in my fridge. I was feeling so ambitious, I didn’t want to freeze a single one. And so the baking commenced!
Or, more accurately, a boatload of maple… Like most folks, we use our fair share of maple syrup on breakfasty things like waffles, pancakes, and French toast; I also love to use it in muffins and cupcakes and icings. On a savory note, I remember when my mom used to make chicken dipped in maple syrup and coated in crushed pecans. I even go so far as to whisk this stuff into my homemade maple mustard vinaigrette. I knew maple syrup was versatile; I had no idea how versatile until our recent trip to Quebec City.
What is your favorite spice? For me, the award goes to this crimson beauty: smoked paprika. It’s interesting because growing up, paprika had only one purpose as far as I knew: topping the cream cheese-stuffed celery boats that my Grandmother used to make. I remember it not having all that much flavor, but it made that little crudité look fancier and definitely more colorful. I always thought paprika was one of those spices that you should have on hand–you never know when you’ll get a hankering for celery boats–but despite having it, I rarely used it. My attitude towards paprika changed when I discovered its smoky cousin.
What do you see when you look at this picture? The vertebrae from an unknown species? A tree from a Dr. Seuss book? Some kind of flower bud? Actually, it is a cluster of Brussels sprouts; yep, this is how they grow! Unless you’ve seen them in a garden, chances are, you’ve never seen them still attached to their stalk. I get so excited when I find these towers of sprouts: they are a rare find in grocery stores–your chances are better at finding them this way at the farmer’s market. They taste fresher than their loose supermarket counterparts because much of their moisture is retained via the stalk. So, yes, there is a bit of knife work needed to liberate them from their spire, but it’s not enough to deter me from buying them this way. The cashier at Trader Joe’s told me that his sister takes the whole stalk, oils it up and throws it right on the grill. Note to self: it’s time to deviate from my default roasting habits and try something new–I’m taking this enormity to the grill!
Aeons ago, someone gave me a Matcha tea set as a gift; in that beautiful bamboo box I found a cup, scoop, tongs, spoon and a whisk–each piece also made of bamboo. The only item the set did not include was the actual tea. Even if I had the tea, I really didn’t know what to do with any of the equipment. Being a little intimidated, I never bought the tea, so all five pieces had been collecting dust in a drawer for more years than I can remember.
I pulled them all out a few months ago after I tried a green tea latte from Starbucks; it was so unique. That earthy, creamy concoction had me wanting more; I knew I had to buy some matcha to have at home. It is pricy: prices are around the $20 mark for 1-3 ounces–the fact that a little goes a long way helped justify the purchase. After all, it would only take four visits at Starbucks to pay for my own tin.
