Thanksgiving Experiment, Part Two

Because I wasn't hosting Thanksgiving dinner this year, I had some time to play around with new side dishes, looking for the next classic in my repertoire. This colorful melange of winter root veggies seemed particularly appealing when Tara posted about it just prior to the big day.

Tara's blog, Tea and Cookies, is one of those that I visit as much for the photography and the writing as for the recipes. Tara is mostly a vegetarian and if you read my blog frequently you'll know that I'm anything but. However, Tara writes so beautifully that she tempts me to try all kinds of veggie delights. Look at this, for example - spectacular!

This dish does require a bit of chopping of root vegetables but, once you get going, you're on a roll. The roasted veggies are mellow, almost sweet, and as colorful as a plate full of gemstones. I used thyme rather than rosemary just because my thyme plant is going strong and I had no rosemary in the house and even my mother couldn't force me to eat rutabaga, but I'm sure it would be equally good just the way Tara envisioned it.

While we are enjoying it as a side dish (it made a huge pan of veggies, so we are slowly eating our way through it), I'm thinking it would make a great substrate for other foods. For example, I think it would be dynamite with a poached egg on top, a jewel-toned vegetarian hash. Can't you just imagine the orange yolk of a fresh egg adding its color to the brilliance of this tumble of red, orange, yellow and cream?

Thanks to daughter Katie and her Main Man for hosting and giving me time to experiment for next Thanksgiving's hit parade.

Peaceful Soup

In a comment on my previous post about parsnips, Morgan had suggested using them in soup, which seemed nothing short of brilliant to me, so I set out to make a pot. As usual, I didn't have all the ingredients for the soup recipe I had researched online and with a stinky head cold I wasn't inclined to go out in search of them, but I have discovered that that isn't always necessary for success.

Contemplating soup construction, I just think about what flavors I'd enjoy together if they were arranged side-by-side on a plate - and then chuck them all in the pot with liquid. This time, parsnips sounded like the perfect accompaniment to shallots, leeks and apples and, since I had all those things clamoring to be used, I decided to give them a shot.

Lots of peeling and chopping ensued, but when all the chopping is done, the rest of the preparation is dead easy. I sautéed the chopped shallots and leeks in butter until they were soft, then added the rest of the ingredients and let them simmer together for about 20 minutes before blending. Once blended and back in a big pot, I added just a touch of half and half to smooth it and adjusted the seasonings with salt and pepper.

The soup is nothing to look at but the flavor is sublime. Not as sweet as butternut soup, but there's a hint of sweetness. Not as savory as leek and potato soup, but there's a savory layer in there. The celery leaves lightened it up a bit and gave it some spark without being the dominant flavor. It was like a peaceful kindergarten class where all the children are playing nicely together and no one is snatching all the toys.

Peaceful Soup

2 parsnips, peeled and finely chopped
3 large shallots, peeled and finely chopped
1 large leek, white and pale green parts only, carefully washed and chopped
2 Pink Lady apples, peeled and coarsely chopped (I suspect just about any nice apple would do)
3 Tbs. or so of fresh celery leaves, roughly chopped
4 cups chicken broth (I used the organic kind in a box)
2-3 Tbs butter
1/4 cup half and half or light cream
salt and pepper to taste (I don't cook with salt, only add it at the table. It's important in this soup, which was a tad bland until we added a light spritz of Hawaiian red salt and a nice pinch of freshly ground pepper).

Sauté the leek and shallots together in the butter (in melting my butter, it got a little brown, and that was a good thing) until they are softened, then add all other ingredients except the half and half. Simmer together, covered, for about 20 minutes. Let cool slightly, then blend in batches in a blender, (or use one of those nifty hand blenders if you have one) pouring the blended soup into a large clean pot. Once all is blended, heat the soup gently and add the half and half, stirring to mix it in. Serve hot. Some croutons or cheese toasts would be a nice accompaniment.

'Snip Chips

Last week, I was given three nice parsnips as an experiment - I've never eaten them before*. My favorite guy in the Civic Center farmer's market insisted that I try them.

While I was peeling them, I bit off a small piece out of curiosity. Bland, a little fibrous, kinda meh. However, on the word of my veggie seller, I persevered.

I decided to start simply, so I peeled and sliced them, tossed them in a little olive oil and salt, and roasted them in a 350 degree oven for half an hour.

So far, so good; they were soft in the center but they looked like they could use a few minutes more to brown and crisp a bit. As you can see, I got distracted (again!) and nearly let them burn.

Rescued at the very last minute before immolation, they were delicious, similar to potato in texture, but sweeter and somehow smoother. We both loved them and will happily return to our favorite veggie seller - he was right, I'll be back and he can charge me double!

*After I wrote that, I got to wondering if it was precisely true so I did a "parsnip" search and discovered that I did post about parsnips twice before, once disastrously and once successfully. In the disaster, I couldn't taste their sweetness and in the success, the geniuses at Greens were responsible. Gotta get back to Greens soon to figure out how they did that!

Of Orange Monkeys and Parsnips

I get gifts. Does that sound braggish? I hope not; it's not meant to. It's not that I'm particularly deserving or anything, but I do get gifts.

For example, for my birthday my sister sent me this orange monkey to do my vegetable peeling work. It is not only an excellent peeler, it also makes me smile every time I grab the monkey around his absurd waist and go to work on carrots or parsnips.

Speaking of parsnips, these were a gift, too. At the Civic Center farmer's market, there is a stall in which the best salesman I've ever encountered (sorry, My Beloved, but it's true) holds court. He is a joyous young man, dreadlocked and smiling, with a flash of white teeth in his dark face. He presides over the freshest organic veggies in the market. His soft accent speaks of somewhere in the Caribbean and his sales technique is both assertive and comic. If I come in with fruit I've purchased in another stall (he doesn't sell fruit), he offers to weigh it for me and charge me again for it. His outrageous style always makes me laugh.

I bought some Brussels sprouts from his stand last week and asked what the "white carrots" were. "You've never had parsnips?" he asked? When I shook my head, he snatched up three plump ones and popped them into the bag with the sprouts, filling my head with descriptions of what they taste like and ideas for cooking them. "No charge!" he declared and when I demurred, he insisted. "Don't worry," he assured me, "you'll be back and then I'll charge you double!" Gotta love this guy!

As I was leaving, I spied another rooty-looking, pale green thing, which he also insisted on giving me, a watermelon radish, also new to me. See what I mean? In a single day, I was given two kinds of veggies and the means to peel them.

I get gifts - vegetal, practical and comical. Ain't life grand?