“Trust,” as it pertains to the food system, has become an increasing concern for all of us. As part of the ongoing research and planning for the James Beard Foundation’s annual conference over the last few years, a series of regional salons were conducted around the country on the subject of Trust. A small group of diverse stakeholders in the local food system—including chefs, farmers, food producers, distributors, policy makers, urban planners, academics, and others—attended a salon at Color’s Restaurant in Detroit. It was exciting for me to be a part of this and inspired me to revisit some principles I hold near and dear.
-Healthy food is the primary source of nourishment and a primary nurturer–the ultimate in holistic health and the key to longevity and quality of life.
-Creating and presenting food is an art form which can inspire us and awaken all our senses in the creative process.
-Food is a language. Our personal tastes defining which dialect we speak. It is an important method of expression and reciprocal exchange between people.
-We feel better about ourselves when we’re cognizant of what we eat. Whenever possible, eat plant based whole foods which are organic, unadulterated and unprocessed.
-Food connects us with others and cultivates natural satisfaction.
-Know where your food comes from and support local farmers.
-Discover local sources and how the food we eat is a direct connection to the earth we walk on.
-Be honest with your food
Trust is an expansive subject and individually intimate at the same time. As a plant-based chef, every aspect of the ingredients I use are as important as the final dish. Each one is chosen for its culinary contribution as well as healthful properties. The following recipe is one you can trust!
For this recipe, I used fresh cranberry beans at Food Field Farm’s stall in Detroit’s Eastern Market. Similar to pintos, they cook to a tender creamy texture. This recipe is a simple medley of vegetables and beans. If you can’t find fresh beans, cooked from dry or canned may be substituted.
Cranberry Bean Ragout
2 teaspoons olive oil
1/2 teaspoon garlic, minced
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper
1/4 cup red onions, diced
1/2 cup Jimmy Nardello sweet peppers, diced (or red bell peppers)
1 cup yellow squash, large dice
1 1/2 cups cooked fresh podded cranberry beans* (dry beans**)
1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
1/2 teaspoon ancho chile powder
1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon cumin powder
1/2 teaspoon mild chile powder
In a twelve inch skillet on medium-high heat, cook oil, garlic and crushed red pepper until it begins to sizzle. Add onions, sweet peppers and yellow squash. Cook until the edges of the vegetables are seared. Add cranberry beans and all remaining ingredients. Turn down, cover and simmer for 15 minutes. Serve hot.
Serve with rice or quinoa.
*To cook 1 ½ cups fresh cranberry beans, simmer for 30 minutes in 4 cups of water in a covered saucepan.
**With dry beans, soak in 4 cups water for 4 to 6 hours. Rinse well. Simmer for 30 minutes in 4 cups of water in a covered saucepan.
Chefs witness this on a daily basis, but most of us disconnect from the notion that food influences us far beyond the digestive tract. Eating is a multi-sensual experience and what we hear plays a significant role. With food, sound supports the other senses, placing us in a three dimensional experience.Even though it seems to play a background role, the influence of sound on our heart and mind is perhaps the most powerful sense.In Feng Shui and Vedic Vastu, sound is recognized as having the ability to create motion through vibration.What we hear inspires us to react and that is why the aural environment is important in all stages of the food experience.
According to Pythagorus, and confirmed by Plato, sound is the primordial element.This is also embraced by the Vedas from India, which are considered by many to be the oldest books in the world.According to these beliefs, sound is the original element that creates vibration, thus causing movement in the universe.If we could hear across the entire aural spectrum, everything would have a sound, including the silence we currently perceive.According to the Vedas, physical environments can change through sound and it is also an important tool for spiritual connections.Sound is a key part of our environment affecting our mind, body and spirit.Often, ancient Greeks spoke in song.This is still evident through Cretan spontaneous poetry known as Mantinades.Sanskrit is a poetic language, verbalized with meter and rhythm, often with melodious incantations.Sanskrit is called Deva Nagiri, because it is believed to be a heavenly language and is structured in a way that creates change and movement when enunciated.Vedic Brahmins maintain chanting specific Sanskrit mantras can change physical environments, mundane elements and alter the cycles of action and reaction they call Karma.
More accessible to everyday thoughts, music can change moods, evoke passions and greatly effect perception. White noise and harsh noises can also make a difference.Cutting words, arguing, criticism and expressions of anger are vocal distractions which can affect us in both subtle and gross ways.Abrasive soundscapes often create stress, adding clutter and distraction to thoughts and actions. Sound affects our mindset, bodily movement and clarity of spirit.It is natural to see how an aural environment influences cooking.For me, cooking is an expression of what lies within, most often I see culinary actions as a conveyance, of knowledge, tradition and creative expression.As some people are eloquent speakers, the eloquence I rely on the most is in the language of food and all that goes with it.
Often, traveling to Crete with my father and son, we found simple tavernas where waves lapped in symphonic meter by our feet while feasting on a crisp cucumber salad glistening with the liquid gold of fresh pressed extra virgin olive oil. Local dialects epitomized the Greek word onomatopoeia, with mellifluous chatter beautifully decorating the aural landscape. Mixed with the scents of the sea and the olive oil basted grills we entered a meditative state, much like Odysseus and the Sirens, where a concentrated effort to extract ourselves from the hypnosis was necessary to accomplish tasks of the day.
A visual landscape is dramatically enhanced by sound.The transition from silent film to ‘talkies’ is one example of the difference.Sound gives depth and definition to sight.To create a fulfilling dining experience, chefs and restaurateurs sculpt the aural experience to compliment and enhance the sensual experience.In dining, sound is a compliment to the meal, a background enhancement that soothes and excites indirectly. Anticipation and salivation are encouraged with the sight of food cooking uttering companion sounds like crackling, spurting, bubbling, puffing and sputteringSound also plays a direct part as an accompaniment to taste, touch and aroma as food is consumed and we sense such things as crunching, slurping, chewing and swallowing.In some old cultures, a good belch at the end of a meal signifies a cook’s success.Listening, and becoming sensitive, to the sounds of cooking and eating is a very important part of the world of cooking.Just as a spice can change the nature of a preparation, so what we hear when cooking and eating alters the food and how we digest it.
Cold preparations in particular seem to produce more sounds due to brittleness enhanced by the temperature. While eating, these dishes produce a mellifluous combination of crunches, snaps and juicy sound bites that are intriguing, fun and fresh.
The snack food industry is testimony to the human addiction to crunch. Thinking about it, if we take the sound away from crunching, the feel alone is not enough to satisfy. It is the sound, inside and outside the jaw, which pleases our senses and creates the moment of satisfaction until the next bite. Crackers, chips, nuts, apples, corn, celery, carrots and many other foods are crunch worthy. In a dinner, a light, delicate crunch from a garnish or integrated crispy pastry provides a surprising and very pleasant addition to the sensual experience. A salad is an ideal course for exploring crunching with fresh, crispy greens, delicately cut vegetables, toasted nuts and the snap of fresh cherry tomatoes.
Dessert can turn into an extravaganza for all the senses by adding the crunch factor with a sweet pastry or candied nut.
Each day, 30 to 40 minutes is usually spent cooking. Fast traditional cooking is wonderful, but the traditional slow and carefully prepared dishes add depth, perspective and an understanding of the true meaning of the food. I like to use traditionally prepared condiments, such as tamari, ume plum vinegar, unpasteurized miso, cured olives, salted capers and well aged balsamic vinegar to compliment my quickly prepared meals. Often these dishes are rooted in the climate and politics of the era they originated from, adding romanticized imagery of the times of yore. Many well crafted preparations depend on fermentation, something we are rarely exposed to since refrigeration came into the kitchen. These dishes often define flavors of a cuisine with the unique flavors of enzymatic growth. Often they were used in winter to add flavor and vital nutrients when the fresh harvest was not available. Along with preserving and salt curing, fermentation was used to keep perishable ingredients edible.
Sauerkraut is one of those dishes. In Michigan, every Autumn during the abundant cabbage harvest, housewives and farmers would grate large amounts of the cruciferous vegetable on everything from hand graters to handyman crafted grating boxes which could shred an entire giant head at a time. The freshly shredded cabbage was placed with salt in crocks, barrels or bin, then pressed and covered to encapsulate the fermentation process. After a couple of weeks or so, the cabbage turned into sauerkraut and continued to ferment until canning. Today, a good amount of Michigan’s bountiful cabbage crop is turned into nutritious sauerkraut and donated to food banks.
In India, nation culinary treasures such as Idli, Dosa, Jallebi and Dahi (yogurt) all depend on fermentation for unique flavors and health giving enzymes. Dosa has very ancient roots in South Indian Tamil culture that are at least 6,000 years old. This original “crepe” has maintained popularity and is one of the most recognized and cherished dishes in greater Indian cuisine. Thirty years ago, Indian dahi-walla shops were frequently a stove, a pot and a cook (sometimes with a couple of cows out back) who worked among clay vessels of all shapes and sizes made to hold yogurt as it cultured. Down the street, one would usually find a potter sitting on the ground with a throwing wheel, a pile of clay vessels and a pit for firing. For yogurt, the clay would insulate as well as remove whey from the yogurt as it turned to curd over a four to five hour period. Turning milk into yogurt, butter and sweets were a method of preservation before refrigeration and was practiced wherever cows, sheep, goats and buffalo were kept. I remember my Yia Yia (Greek grandmother) making her own yogurt, keeping a string of cultures from one batch to the next. She would culture the yogurt on top of her refrigerator wrapped in towels where it would stay warm enough to transform the milk into a very tangy yogurt.
India also has a long history of pickle making, using sea salt, mustard, fenugreek, chillies and oils. I learned the craft from a Gujarati family and, over the years would make salty, hot, sour and often sweet pickles during the growing season. Pickles from eggplant, green beans, green mangos, lemons, limes and chillies accompanied the regional Indian cuisine we were preparing daily at the time.
Garum, a fermented fish sauce, was used throughout the ancient Roman Empire, much the same way fish sauces are used in Korean, Thai, Cambodian, Fillipino and Vietnamese cuisines. Soy sauce, shoyu and tamari in Chinese and Japanese cuisines are rooted in similar traditions. Asian cuisines are full of fermented products, like Tempeh, Natto and Kimchee.
Commonly acknowledged, products with long traditions of fermentation are beer and wine. The ancients became masters of wine and beer making, not just for the pleasing effects, but also because water could not be trusted. The armies of Alexander the Great marched to India using beer and wine instead of water. Bread baking as we have come to know it also started from the process of making beer and wine. The white coatings we sometimes see on grapes are a yeast that is also used for sourdough bread. Brewers yeast, the by-product of beer making, is also an old source of traditional bread yeast. Beer making is perhaps one of the oldest known fermenting traditions with archeological evidence from 9,000 years ago. Since it is made with grains, beer has kept a close relationship with bread. Ancient Egyptians had massive bakeries at the base of the Great Pyramid, capable of providing up to 30,000 loaves of bread a day and were conveniently located next to breweries. Up until the last 60 years, many people kept crocks with yeast starters in their kitchens to make bread with. With the exception of Prohibition, yeast was readily available from breweries throughout America. Packaged, and especially, active dry yeast are relatively new in the world of food.
With the arrival of dependable refrigeration, many of these foodstuffs were relegated to the realm of cultural identity as they were no longer were necessary. Commercial manufacturers took over more difficult tasks such as bread baking, wine and beer making, yogurt and butter as well as anything else they could sell back to the public in order for to time to be saved in the kitchen. 19th and 20th century kitchens evolved so fast that many of the time honored culinary traditions have become very rare or even lost.
Growing up with my Greek Yia Yia’s cooking helped me to appreciate the deep connections between food, culture and environment. For this reason when the current culinary revolution recognized these same connections, I found a natural kinship with those who embraced it. Over the years, I have also discovered the remarkable role vegetarianism has played in human history. Often, it is associated with the visionary brilliance, notably such souls as Gandhi and Einstein. Every cuisine has some form of plant based food in it and I promote that every culture has vegetarian traditions. Commonly, fermented dishes and condiments are prominent in such repertoires.
Beyond obvious refrigeration issues, both ancient and modern medicinal wisdom recognize the potent nutrition and life giving value in fermented foods. Modern science has also recognized the hazards of improperly fermenting, requiring sterile environments and standardized cultures. While this has undoubtedly increased food safety, we have also lost many organic hand-crafted traditions. Often, much of the health benefit is diminished as well. I include as many of these dishes as possible in my culinary stable and even find that once a cultured product is made, it facilitates quick and easy meals while, at the same time, adding the depth of slowly developed flavors.
For many people tofu is a bland experience, turning off the most adventurous of palates. This recipe helps to counteract that falacy with the assistance of the treasured spice of Asia, black pepper. It makes for a flavorful side dish with a simple meal as well as a provocative appetizer. The key to good sautéed tofu is to cook it hot at first, then turn down the heat and finish it off slowly allowing the flavors to absorb.
Makes 12 pieces
1 teaspoon olive oil
1 (14 ounce) block firm tofu, drained and cut into twelve ¼ inch thick triangles
2 tablespoons tamari
1 1/2 teaspoons fresh ground black pepper
Heat a 10 to 12 inch saute pan on medium heat. Add oil and tofu. Cook one side until slightly browned and then carefully turn each piece. Add tamari and turn heat down to a simmer, then grind half the fresh pepper onto the tofu. After a minute, turn the tofu again and grind the rest of the pepper. Continue to cook until the tofu is firm and the pepper is cooked in. Serve hot or at room temperature.
“Iconic cuisine” could describe the food of Bengal. Among their many influential dishes, sweets are perhaps the most famous. Yet, there are many preparations which have come to shape Indian cuisine as a whole. Charchari is not merely a single dish, but a cooking style unique to Bengal. Essentially, vegetables are cooked in a pan and covered without stirring until a close-to-burnt caramelized crust forms on the bottom of the pan, which is stirred in to finish the dish. Unlike many vegetable dishes in India, spicing is simple, often only turmeric, chillies, salt and hing (onion-like asafetida powder). The result is a deliciously rich tasting subji (vegetable) which can be used as an appetizer with crackers and bread, or as a show-stopping part of a bigger Indian meal.
One of my favorite cookbooks is The Art of Indian Vegetarian Cooking by Jamuna devi. She is to Indian vegetarian cuisine what Julia Child was to French home-cooked cuisine. Her book is an easy-to-understand look at Indian kitchens. It was written a number of years ago and is a timeless must-have resource for those who wish to cook and enjoy Indian food as it is supposed to be. Jamuna presents a number of charcharis in the book and her description and recipe is excerpted as follows:
“Charcharis are Bengali vegetable dishes that combine three cooking procedures: boiling, steaming and frying. Though other cuisines of the world use the same procedures, and in a similar sequence, to my knowledge only charcharis are brought to the point of charring. During the entire procedure, the vegetable is never stirred—not even once! They are succulent vegetables, often rich and served as side dishes, but take little attention while cooking and are really delicious.
The dividing line between the cooking procedures is blurry. In the first stage, large pieces of vegetable are gently boiled in a seasoned liquid. Sometimes sugar, tomatoes or lemon juice is added to provide a glaze, flavor or zest in the finished dish. In the second stage, the vegetables are steamed by the concentrated liquids barely boiling in the bottom of the pan. Srila Prabhupad described the final stages of cooking: ‘When the liquid is absorbed, there will be a little noise, a hhhzzzz sound, and then, just as the bottom crust browns, turn off the heat and it is done.’ The pan is covered and allowed to sit off the heat for a few minutes, until the crust softens and can be easily folded into the moist vegetables.
Since this final stage of cooking delicately borders on burning, it is important to convey that it should not come to that. No one wants to serve or eat burned vegetables. It is essential to use a very heavy, thick bottom pan such as enamel on steel, stainless steel or, better still, non-stick Silverstone on heavy aluminum. With good non-stick cookware and attention to heat control, perfect charcharis are possible even the first time around.”
Here is a recipe I adapted from Jamuna’s cookbook by mixing it with my own experiences of charchari. Many years ago I was able to sample some of her cooking and the exquisite flavors of her beautifully crafted dishes have inspired me ever since. I dedicate this recipe to her and the amazing foods that roll out of her kitchen.
Baigan Aloo Charchari
2 tablespoons oil
1 teaspoon black mustard seeds
1 tablespoon fresh ginger root, peeled and minced
2 finger hot green chilies, minced
1/4 teaspoon hing (yellow asafoetida powder)
6-8 fresh neem leaves
5 medium Yukon gold potatoes, peeled and cut into one inch cubes
1 medium sized eggplant, cut into one inch cubes
1 2/3 cups water
1 cup spinach leaves, stemmed and coarsely chopped
1/2 teaspoon turmeric powder
1/4 teaspoon lemon zest
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1/2 inch piece of cinnamon stick
1/4 teaspoon fennel seeds, freshly ground
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg, fresh ground
1 1/4 teaspoons sea salt
Heat 2 tablespoons oil in a heavy-bottomed 4 quart pan over moderate heat. When it is hot, but not smoking, add the black mustard seeds, ginger and chilies and fry until the mustard seeds sputter and turn gray. Sprinkle in the hing and neem leaves and within 5 seconds, stir in the potatoes, tossing with a wooden spoon for 2 to 3 minutes.
Add the remaining ingredients and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low, cover and cook about 30 minutes. From time to time, check to see if the vegetables are drying up, and adjust the heat or liquid accordingly. When the vegetables are fork-tender, all of the liquid should be absorbed and the vegetables left sizzling.
Raise the heat to moderately high and fry, without stirring, until a slightly charred crust forms on the bottom of the pan. Turn off the heat and keep covered for 5 minutes. Stir the crust into the soft vegetables before serving.
Toward the end of the harvest season chiles, tomatoes, onions, garlic and cilantro can be found in abundance. Inspired by the vibrant colors and pungent flavors of Mexico, I particularly like grilling the salsa vegetables to give them a rustic and earthy taste and feel. Easy to prepare and full of flavor, this is a salsa that stands out in a crowd.
3 hatch or Anaheim chiles, stemmed, seeded and halved lengthwise
2 torpeo or cipollini onions, peeled and trimmed
3 three inch diameter tomatoes, sliced in half
Cook the chiles, onions and tomatoes on a medium heat grill. When lightly blackened on one side, carefully turn the vegetables and use a flat spatula to turn the tomatoes. Blackened again and place in a bowl. Place ingredients on a cutting board and coarsley chop, then return them to the bowl.
1/2 cup cilantro leaves, coarsely chopped
1/4 cup fresh lime juice 1/2 teaspoon sea salt
1/2 teaspoon garlic, minced
Mix cilantro, lime, sea salt and garlic together in a bowl. Add grilled vegetables. Serve after 1/2 hour to give time for the flavors to integrate. Serve at room temperature or hot.
Across the country, top chefs have adopted serving a series of small bites to their discerning customers in order to present food at its purest and freshest state. In those culinary emporiums of the celebrity chef, the goal is to immerse the senses in the wonders of gastronomy. Through visual presentation, tactile sensation, aromatic teases and tasting stimulating flavors chefs are wowing their guests with magnificent plates and anticipatory service.
While the specific experience may be new, there is a long history for this kind of eating. While the great cuisines of Europe are directly rooted to the indulgence of monks in abbeys of the middle ages (and indirectly in Roman high-society excesses), there are also culinary traditions from areas of the world less exposed to the American palate, such as China, Thailand, Vietnam and India. One of these is the cuisine of Yogic India. Entwined with the ancient medical science of Ayurveda, as well as religious philosophies which espouse spiritual cooking and distribution of food, the yoga of cooking has been refined over fifty centuries of recorded history.
Many years ago, my personal culinary journey placed me in Vrindavan, one of the yoga epicenters of India. This was Krishna’s hometown and continues to thrive as a philosophical retreat with over 5000 temples and numerous spiritual schools, particularly inclined toward bhakti-yoga. I became enamored by the attention to detail placed on the food, not only in temples, but in households and street food as well. With a different approach than Western chefs, the food not only had to look good and taste perfect, but it had to be cooked “a-la-minute” and more significantly, also digest well.
The Ayurvedic philosophy of balance was present everywhere, but especially noticeable in the traditional main lunch meal, called a thali. This is where small bites came into play. Originally served on banana leaves with clay cups or stainless steel trays for the common man, it was also served pure silver trays for the aristocrats. Rice is placed in the center and small bowls of vegetables, savories, dahls, pickles, chutneys and raita surround it. In addition, freshly made pillow shaped chapatis are served with steam still spouting through a crack in the top.
The meal balances the five tastes and five mellows of Ayurveda to create an ideal healthy meal with abundant complete proteins, phyto-nutrients and anti-oxidants. Like the fine dining cooking in America, it is a complete sensual immersion, but unlike the West, one feels nourished and vitalized in body, mind and spirit with both sensual stimulation and dietary engagement. The senses are wowed, but they are also brought on board as partners in health. All ingredients were local and, without refrigeration, we shopped the market daily. In my mind, this is the gold standard for us to strive for. There were no leftovers and extras were shared with local sadhus and animals.
While my explanations cannot do them justice, it can be said some of these meals were instances that created rare tears of joy as I ate. The food was that good! The cooks who prepared those meals are still my culinary heroes and inspire similar attention to detail in every meal I prepare.
We are in the midst of a great American food revolution. Farmers markets around the country are the front lines of this cultural awakening directly connecting urban dwellers with regional farm and food producers. Chefs have discovered farm-fresh produce as the secret to fine cuisine which has led to an increase in their patron’s culinary awareness and high expectations.
Community and markets go hand in hand. Farmers markets are places to learn about food, regions, farms and community events. One of the simple pleasures in my life is discussing local foods and agricultural trends with small farmers who have a direct connection to the earth.
The communities of the ancient world situated their markets in town squares and city centers since this was where people gathered–these markets tended to be the seat of government as well. Famously, democracy was created in the Agora (marketplace) of ancient Athens.
I shop two or three farmers markets weekly buying an exciting variety of seasonal produce. Nature provides the nutritive balance with different plants maturing each week during the growing season. Traditional cultures around the world synchronized their lives around the cycles of indigenous growth and harvests.
However, in today’s markets, farmers have a tendency to grow what sells. While this may make good business sense, the unfortunate result is that the educational aspects of the markets are lessened. So, when I see unusual offerings, such as green amaranth, bitter melon or, one of my favorite culinary treasures, purslane, my mind begins to conjure up different ways to prepare dishes with the fresh delicacies before me.
Purslane is a nutritional powerhouse savored by most of the great food cultures of the world. It is one of the highest plant sources in Omega 3 fatty acids and rich in vitamins A, C, Potassium and Alpha-Linoleic acid. It was well known to ancient cultures in the Mideast and Asia and used in traditional Chinese medicine for bee stings and snake bites. Pliny advised wearing the plant as an amulet to expel all evil.
Here in a America, purslane was relegated to the status of a weed. Crop rows and sidewalks across the country are sprayed with herbicides to eradicate this perceived nuisance. It thrives in harsh, dry climates and, as a companion plant, enables less hardy plants to survive by helping the root systems reach greater depths. It also helps create a beneficial microclimate and stabilize moisture levels–not to mention, it is delicious!
This recipe takes about 30 minutes. The sauteed purslane and lacinato kale rolls may be prepared individually, but I chose to combine them for complimentary flavor and drama of presentation.
Lacinato Kale Roll with Sautéed Purslane
Makes 8 rolls, serves 4 to 8
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
2 teaspoons minced garlic
1 ½ teaspoons crushed red pepper
1 cup spring onions, sliced
2 bunches, or 6 cups, purslane, washed, thick stems removed and coarsely chopped
½ teaspoon sea salt
In a 12 inch skillet on medium-high heat, cook the olive oil, garlic and crushed red pepper for 5 to 10 seconds or until the garlic and chiles sizzle. Add the onion, purslane and sea salt. Cook for 30 seconds, cover and turn down to a simmer.
1/2 cup Vegenaise, vegan mayonnaise
2 1/2 tablespoons roasted red pepper
2 teaspoons organic tomato paste
1/4 teaspoon sea salt
In a separate bowl, whisk together all sauce ingredients.
Filling and assembly
1/2 cup chopped basil leaves
1/2 cup blanched almond flour
1/4 teaspoon sea salt
1/4 teaspoon fresh ground black pepper
1 1/2 teaspoons dijon mustard
In another thoroughly fold together all filling ingredients.
8 large lacinato kale leaves, stemmed
Place 1 heaping tablespoon at the top of the kale leaf and, while folding the
side edges in, roll the leaf into a stuffed grape leaf shape. Steam for 12 minutes on medium high heat. Place 1 cup purslane on plate, place one roll on top and top with 1 ½ tablespoons sauce.
Serve while hot.
This is a simple, yet flavorful method of preparing risotto, more of a pilaf really. Good as a side dish or main course, this recipe is different from the traditional butter, wine and parmesan cheese approach, but every grain of rice maintains an inherent full and creamy flavor. I find asparagus at the local farmers market, thin or thick stalks are fine. The walnuts are from last year’s harvest. Fresh nuts make a tremendous difference in flavor and texture.
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1/2 teaspoon garlic, minced
3/4 cup shallots, peeled and thinly sliced
1/4 cup red bell peppers, finely chopped
1/2 cup garnet yams, peeled and cubed
1/2 cup peas, freshly podded
1 bay leaf
1/4 cup fresh fennel weed, finely chopped
1/2 teaspoon white pepper
1 cup organic Arborio rice
1 teaspoon sea salt
2 1/2 cups water
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
2 cups asparagus, cut into 1 1/2 inch pieces
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
1 teaspoon balsamic reduction (or 1/2 teaspoon balsamic vinegar)
1 cup walnut halves and pieces
1/2 tablespoon tamari
In a wide, thick-bottomed saucepan on medium heat, cook the oil, garlic, shallots, red bell peppers and yams until the shallots start to turn clear. Stir in the remaining ingredients and bring to a simmer, turn down and cover. Stirring frequently, cook for 20 minutes until the rice is tender and most of the water is absorbed.
While cooking the rice, heat a sauté pan on medium high heat, add oil and asparagus.Cook, turning frequently, until the asparagus starts to brown on the edges, add the red pepper flakes, stir in and add the balsamic reduction or vinegar.When the vinegar cooks out, add the walnuts, stir them around letting them toast lightly.Add the tamari, stir to coat the nuts and asparagus.Take off the flame and set aside.When the risotto is cooked, fold in the asparagus and nut just before serving.Save a few pieces of asparagus tips and walnut halves for garnish.Serve immediately.Optionally, one may garnish each dish with shaved organic asiago or parmesan, but I prefer ground toasted tamari walnuts sprinkled over the top.