Weekend Herb Blogging Roundup #244

Weekend Herb Blogging celebrates the flavors and textures of herbs, fruits, and vegetables. Each week a different blogger takes responsibility for compiling the delicious and nutritious recipes posted to Weekend Herb Blogging in the preceding week. This week it’s my turn.

Citrus Sports Drink

Janet of The Taste Space
Toronto, Canada

Chicken and Chili Paella

Graziana of Erbe in Cucina
Italy

Apricot Mousse with Chocolate Crumble

Cinzia of Cindystar
Lake Garda, Italy

Snickerdoodle Blondies

Joanne of Eats Well with Others
New York City, New York

Taro Chips

Haalo of Cook Almost Anything
Melbourne, Australia

Truffles

Huan of Eat.Read.Live-Recipes
Singapore

Raspberry Vinegar

Brii of Briiblog
Lake Garda, Italy

Shiro Plum Jam with Vanilla Bean

Susan of The Well-Seasoned Cook
New York

Braised Romanesco Broccoli with Onions and Olives

Laurie of Mediterranean Cooking in Alaska/LaurieConstantino.com
Anchorage, Alaska
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Next week Weekend Herb Blogging will be hosted by Lynne of Cafe Lynnylu If you want to participate, please send your entries to lynnylu AT gmail DOT com by 3pm Utah time, Sunday, August 8, 2010. For more information, go here.

Bhutanese Refugees in Anchorage, Alaska with Recipe for Lamb's Quarters & Tomatoes with Eggs (Χόρτα και Ντομάτες με Αυγά)

Lush baskets of greens lined the table: crumpled dark Lacinato kale, sweet golden-stalked Swiss chard, deep maroon piles of earthy red orach. The sign read, “Fresh International Gardens.”

“Good morning! Where’s your farm?” The answer to my standard market question was a surprise: “Mountain View.”

Mountain View, a densely populated neighborhood within Anchorage’s urban core, is an unlikely spot for a market garden. “How much land do you have?” “8000 square feet.”

A commercially viable garden in Alaska on less than 1/5 of an acre? I looked again at the people staffing the booth. Of diverse ages and ethnicities, they didn’t fit the typical farm family image.

“Is Fresh International Gardens a farm? Or a group?” I hesitated. “Or what?”

The answer: “Or what.” Fresh International Gardens is part of the Refugee Farmers’ Market Program. This program helps refugees, newly arrived in Anchorage, adjust to uprooted lives in a new country. In addition to gardening, the program teaches entrepreneurial and life skills essential to succeeding in Alaska.

The thriving program grew from a seed planted by Julie Riley, longtime Anchorage Cooperative Extension Service Horticulture Agent. In 2004, Riley successfully helped Hmong refugees from Southeast Asia adapt their gardening skills to Alaska’s cold climate. This success inspired Catholic Social Services to work with Riley and others to create the Refugee Farmers’ Market Program. Using municipal land next to Mountain View’s McPhee Park, the program is now in its fourth year.

Most refugees working on the 2010 garden are originally from Bhutan. Over the last 10 months, a group of nearly 100 Bhutanese refugees began the challenging process of creating lives in Alaska after many difficult homeless, stateless years.

Bhutan is a land-locked country the size of Switzerland. It lies between China and India on the Himalayas’ eastern edge; Nepal is to the west. In the late 19th century, the Lhotsampa (meaning southerner in Bhutanese) began emigrating to Bhutan from Nepal, largely to work as laborers for the Bhutanese.

The Lhotsampa settled, built homes, and grew families in Bhutan. Life continued uneventfully until the late 1980s. At that time, the ethnic majority ruling Bhutan became worried about its ethnic group being outnumbered by Lhotsampas. To prevent this, the rulers began a program of ethnic cleansing, forcibly expelling many Lhotsampas from the country.

The forcible expulsions left over 100,000 Lhotsampas, including Anchorage’s new residents, stranded for nearly two decades in Nepalese refugee camps. It wasn’t until 2008 that various countries, including the US, began admitting Bhutanese refugees for permanent resettlement.

Last Thursday I went to the Fresh International Garden site on McPhee and talked with gardener and market entrepreneur Bishnu Subedi.

Subedi said he was forced from his home by the Bhutanese government in 1992. He lived in Nepalese refugee camps until Alaska welcomed him last year. “Seventeen years. Seventeen years, no home. Now, in Alaska, apartment. A home.” Subedi smiled, hesitantly.

While we talked, Subedi and a fellow refugee cleaned and turned a new garden bed, planting it with spinach seed. The men were neatly dressed; their shirts freshly ironed. They deftly and swiftly worked shovel and hoe with bare feet.

Subedi is just now learning English, and spoke it haltingly. He described his plans: work hard, feed his family, get a green card, become a citizen. He laughed, shrugged, and said, “For now, have apartment. But is home. Home.” He smiled again, this time broadly.

I walked further into the garden where three Bhutanese women were weeding beds of thickly planted greens. They heaped all but one kind of weed in piles for disposal. The women treated lamb’s quarters (Chenopodium album) differently. This plant was separated out and added to plastic grocery bags that were already full when I arrived.

Though weeds, lamb’s quarters are delicious edible greens. Since none of the women spoke English, I couldn’t ask if they planned on eating lamb’s quarters. Kelly Ingram, a Vista volunteer working for the Refugee Farmers’ Market Program, had an answer: the women used lamb’s quarters as an ingredient in curry.

Wild lamb’s quarters are gathered for food all around the globe. Uniquely, the Himalayan region, where Lhotsampas survived in Nepalese refugee camps, is the one area in the world where lamb’s quarters are domesticated. It is grown there for its leafy greens and as a grain crop. Lamb’s quarters is a quinoa relative; up to 70,000 poppy-sized seeds grow on every plant. The seeds are ground into flour, cooked as porridge, made into alcoholic beverages, and used as livestock feed.

Unlike countries with subsistence economies, wild foraging is a rarity in modern America. Lamb’s quarters and other wild greens are usually seen only as noxious weeds that pop up in home gardens and interfere with efficient commercial crop production. As a result, few Alaskans have tried tasty lamb’s quarters.

Lamb’s quarters are related to spinach and Swiss chard, and can be substituted for those greens in any recipe. Its flavor is milder, and its leaves slightly firmer, than spinach. Although young lamb’s quarters leaves may be eaten raw, I prefer them cooked. Then again, I also prefer spinach cooked.

Of the wild greens that grow in Alaska, lamb’s quarters is one of the easiest to harvest. (First time foragers may want to review my Rules for Gathering Wild Plants.) Cut off the top 6-8” of each plant, remove any damaged or diseased leaves (look carefully, lamb’s quarters are susceptible to leaf miner damage), and strip the leaves and soft seed heads from the stem. These are ready to use in your favorite greens recipe; the stem may be discarded.

Lamb’s quarters freeze well. Harvest the greens before seeds form, blanch in boiling salted water for 30-45 seconds, drain, cool, squeeze out excess water, package in freezer bags, and freeze.

Lamb’s quarters thrive on land that’s been previously cultivated, or any place they can get an easy foothold. In my yard, they're particularly fond of the topsoil pile, where loose dirt and ready nutrients attract a nice patch of lamb’s quarters every year.

Returning from my trip to the Fresh International Gardens, I had a powerful hankering for lamb’s quarters. Lacking a Bhutanese curry recipe, but being rich in farm fresh eggs, I lunched on a Greek village favorite: eggs cooked on a bed of wild greens and tomatoes.
Lamb's Quarters and Tomatoes with Eggs takes less than 30 minutes to make, including the time to harvest the lamb’s quarters (assuming you're behind on your weeding so have lamb's quarters readily available). Despite its simplicity and humble ingredients, the flavors are luxuriant: runny yolks combine with vegetable juices to form an enthrallingly rich sauce.

Lamb's Quarters and Tomatoes with Eggs (Χόρτα και Ντομάτες με Αυγά)
Serves 2
Any wild or domesticated greens may be used in this recipe. Milder greens, such as lamb’s quarters, nettles, spinach, and Swiss chard, taste best. Feta cheese, bread, and Kalamata olives typically are served with this dish.

6 cups greens, cleaned of stems and damaged leaves
1/2 cup diced onion, 1/4” dice
1 Tbsp. olive oil
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1 cup diced fresh tomato, 1/4” dice
2 Tbsp. minced fresh mint or basil
4 eggs

Blanch greens in boiling salted water for 30-45 seconds. Drain, rinse with cold water, and squeeze out as much water as you can from greens (do this in batches using your hands or all at once using a clean dish towel). Roughly chop the blanched greens.

Sauté onion, lightly seasoned with salt and freshly ground black pepper, in olive oil. When onions begin to turn golden, add chopped greens and tomato. Mix well. When greens are hot, taste and add salt or freshly ground black pepper as needed. Stir in mint or basil.

Spread greens evenly over bottom of the pan and make an indentation for each egg in greens. Break one egg into each hole, lightly season with salt, turn heat down to low, and cover pan. Cook until egg whites just solidify and yolks are still liquid. Serve immediately.

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Fresh International Gardens sells produce every Wednesday at the Northway Mall Farmers’ Market and alternating Saturdays at the University Center Farmers’ Market and the Spenard Farmers’ Market. Volunteers are needed to help with the Refugee Farmers’ Market Program; for more information about volunteer opportunities, contact Kelly Ingram at 786-6331.
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This post is included in Weekend Herb Blogging compiled by Susan at The Well-Seasoned Cook.

Recipe for Squash Blossom Frittata (Κολοκυθοανθοί με Αυγά)

Haul from Wednesday's Farmers' Market: parsley, dill, Swiss chard, beets, spinach, broccoli, orach, zucchini, squash blossoms, cucumbers, tomatoes

Farmers’ market season is upon us. Stalls are bursting with fresh greens and herbs. Early broccoli and zucchini are spottily available. The first bunches of baby carrots appeared today. 

Making Tostadas

Surprises abound at the markets: scarlet vine-ripened tomatoes from Delta Junction, Matanuska Creamery's Caramel Cashew ice cream made using only milk from Alaska, steaming pots of homemade pozole and elote, blowsy ‘Flemish Antique’ peony poppies, freshly gathered duck and chicken eggs from Future Farmers of America.

Among the abundance, golden squash blossoms stand out as a rare treat. Never in stores, they're available only during their short season to home gardeners and farmers’ market shoppers. So far this year, only Rempel Family Farm is selling squash blossoms in Anchorage (50 cents each on Wednesday at Northway Mall Farmers’ Market and Saturday at South Anchorage Farmers’ Market).

Delicate squash blossoms don't like plastic bags. If paper bags aren't available, wrap in newspaper.

All squash blossoms are edible and may be used interchangeably. Because we grow zucchini at home, I’ve gotten used to calling them zucchini flowers. The more generic term, squash blossoms, is usually more accurate when buying from farmers who grow a wider range of squash.

I love stuffing squash blossoms with cheese and cooking them until they’re crispy and oozing with hot, melted cheese. (Tastes Like Home: Mediterranean Cooking in Alaska has recipes for 2 different cheese fillings for zucchini flowers.) Herby essence of basil brightens the flavor of Cheesy Potato-Basil Stuffing for zucchini flowers, and pairs well with a side of fresh greens. Squash blossoms are also tasty dipped in a tempura batter and simply fried.

Blue and brown eggs from Future Farmers of America; both had deep golden yolks.

On days when I want the flavor of squash blossoms, and don’t want to fiddle around or mess with hot oil, I make Squash Blossom Frittata.  Today we had farm-fresh, golden-yolked eggs, fresh herbs, and creamy fresh goat cheese to pair with the squash blossoms. Sighs of satisfaction replaced conversation as we ate; I finished by licking my fingers, wanting more.

Squash Blossom Frittata (Κολοκυθοανθοί με Αυγά)

Serves 2-4

Food writers often advise to remove pistils and stamens from inside squash blossoms, as well as the green bases (calyxes/calyces) and stems. Don’t do it. These parts are all edible and add wonderful flavor and texture. I remove the stems in this recipe purely for decorative reasons; without stems, the blossoms form a perfect pinwheel in the frittata. Use enough flowers to complete a pinwheel; about 8 large, 10 medium, or 12 small.  Accompany Squash Blossom Frittata with a crisp garden lettuce salad and dry white wine.

8-12 squash blossoms

5 eggs

2 Tbsp. minced fresh dill

1/2 cup diced shallots, 1/4” dice (may substitute green onions, see Note below)

1 Tbsp. butter, plus 1 tsp. (divided)

Salt

Freshly ground black pepper

3-4 Tbsp. fresh goat cheese

Dill sprigs for garnish (optional)

Prepare the Squash Blossoms:  If necessary, gently brush off dirt or debris from flowers; don’t wash or get them wet. Carefully open flowers and shake out any insect hitchhikers. Cut off stems, but leave green bases attached. 

Prepare Eggs:  Whisk together eggs and dill with a light seasoning of salt and freshly ground black pepper.  Using a heavy 9-10” oven-proof frying pan (cast iron works best), sauté shallots, lightly seasoned with salt and freshly ground black pepper, in 1 Tbsp. butter until they soften and start to turn golden.  Add sautéed shallots to eggs and whisk to blend (reserve excess butter in pan for cooking frittata).

Cook Frittata:  Preheat broiler to high.

Melt remaining 1 tsp. butter in pan used to cook shallots, arrange squash blossoms in pinwheel around bottom, and cook over medium heat for 30 seconds. Turn blossoms, and evenly pour whisked egg mixture over them. Break goat cheese into pieces and scatter over eggs. Turn heat down to low, cover pan, and cook until eggs are almost set, but still runny on top, about 4-5 minutes.  Put under broiler to finish cooking eggs. Flip out onto platter, garnish with dill sprigs, and serve.

Note: Green onions may, but don’t need to, be sautéed. If you use green onions and don’t sauté them, reduce butter to 2 tsp. and whisk green onions into eggs with dill.

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This post is included in Weekend Herb Blogging compiled by Cinzia from Cindystar.

Peony Poppy 'Flemish Antique', Papavar somniferum paeoniflorum

A 2 Part Tale of 2 Plants in 2 Countries with 2 Recipes: Purslane-Tomato Salad (Ντομάτα Σαλάτα με Γλιστρίδα) and Beach Lovage-Tomato Salad/Salsa (Ντομάτα Σαλάτα με «Άγριο Σέλινο»)

Introduction

In Greece, friends and relatives are endlessly curious about Alaska. We’re quizzed about daylight, animal life, cost of living, how many thousand miles we live from family. Every exotic Alaskan detail is examined and catalogued.

Back in Alaska, a vast land peopled largely by recent transplants, we describe life on a Greek island in a small village filled with relatives (family roots on the island go beyond reach of transmitted memory). We divert Alaskans with stories of family intrigues, open-handed generosity, and island bureaucratic snafus.

Greece and Alaska could not be more different. Yet, in both places, I shop for groceries, forage for wild edibles, and cook with abandon.

A friend of mine recently asked whether a dish cooked in a Greek kitchen tastes the same when made in Alaska. The simple answer: no.  The same recipe tastes different in Greece and Alaska because the ingredients aren’t the same in the two places.

For example: Greek tomatoes have more flavor, as do Alaska spinach and lettuce. Wild greens available in Greece don’t grow in Alaska and vice versa. American and Greek flour, butter, and eggs all bake up differently. Similar differences are found with virtually every ingredient. In both countries, I use the same basic recipes, but the results always vary, sometimes slightly, sometimes significantly.

No matter where one cooks, the key to a good result is tasting what you are making as you are make it. No one should ever blindly follow a recipe (even mine), no matter how trusted the source. The flavors of vegetables, herbs, spices, meats, cheese, fruits, you name it, all change subtly from purchase to purchase and day to day. The only way to compensate for these changes, and to generally adjust a recipe to please your palate, is to taste.

Two articles with recipes follow that illustrate this point. Part One was written in Greece last summer. It’s about purslane, Portulaca oleracea, a weed growing rampant in much of the world (including North America, but not Alaska). I combined the purslane with tomato to make a cooling salad.

Part Two is about a recent gathering expedition for beach lovage, Ligusticum scoticum, in Alaska. Using the Greek Purslane-Tomato Salad as the starting point, I tweaked the flavors to accommodate my Alaskan ingredients.  I served Beach Lovage-Tomato Salad with grilled king salmon; loaves’ herby freshness and the salad’s tart dressing nicely complimented king salmon’s richness.

Part One: Purslane-Tomato Salad in Greece

For years, our yard in Greece was a wasteland of weeds.  Every year on arrival we whacked down the tangle and borrowed a truck to haul away several loads of debris.

Our messy yard contrasted sharply with the carefully tended gardens of family, friends, and neighbors. Cousin Effie has an especially green thumb.  Most of her yard is paved over, but her narrow strip garden holds an impressive collection of flowering plants.

A couple years ago, Effie was sighing over her lack of a vegetable garden.  Since she lives only a few blocks away, and we are in Alaska for most of the year, we suggested she use our yard.

Now, when we arrive in Greece, we open the gate to a healthy, green garden, both decorative and edible, instead of a jungle. We planted roses and a bottle brush tree.  Effie and cousin Tzani have surrounded them with smaller, flowering plants. Blue jasmine from Tzani and a sweet-smelling white-flowered vine climbs the neighbor’s wall. What were tiny rosemary starts are now bushes.

This year the vegetable garden includes eggplant, okra, green beans, summer squash, tomatoes, mint, and celery.  The eggplants are heavily laden with fruit.  We pick them only when it’s time to cook (or gift eggplants); their texture and flavor are dramatically better than any supermarket eggplant available in Alaska.

While in the village, we take over weeding and watering the garden.  This year, purslane and crab grass were the most dominant weeds. While crab grass is purely an annoyance, purslane makes a tasty edible green.

Purslane has been used in Greece throughout recorded history.  Hippocrates, Galenus, and Dioscurides documented its many medicinal uses.  In the kitchen, it’s used raw in salads, mixed with yogurt, added to soups, served with meat or fish, and pickled for winter salad.

In Greece, purslane is best harvested by June or July, at which time both stem and leaves can be used. In September, stems are too tough to eat, but leaves still taste great.

This year, our first day back on the island, we drove to the main town to shop for basics. The day was a scorcher; we returned home hot and tired.  I wasn’t in the mood to cook and, after a day spent under the relentless Greek sun (at least to an Alaskan), didn’t want to eat more than a salad.

While I cut vegetables, Steve collected a colander full of purslane from the garden. Its succulent, slightly sour leaves, combined with sweet tomatoes and tart lemon juice, made a refreshing salad, perfect for a hot day.

Purslane-Tomato Salad (Ντομάτα Σαλάτα με Γλιστρίδα)

Serves 2 – 4

If you don’t have fresh purslane, see the recipe below for Beach Lovage Salad and follow the recommended substitutions there for a fresh, cooling summer salad.

Dressing:

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

2 Tbsp. fresh lemon juice

Salt

Freshly ground black pepper

Salad:

1 1/2 cups diced tomatoes, 1/2” dice

1 1/2 cups cleaned purslane leaves

3/4 cup diced cucumbers, 1/2” dice

3/4 cup diced red onions, 1/2” dice

1/4 cup minced fresh parsley

1 Tbsp. minced fresh mint

Make the dressing: Whisk the olive oil into the lemon juice. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste.

Make the salad: Toss all the ingredients together. Drizzle with the dressing and toss again. (You may not need all the dressing.) Taste and add salt or freshly ground black pepper, as needed.

Beach Lovage and Chocolate Lilies

Part Two: Beach Lovage-Tomato Salad in Alaska

Nearing the spring equinox, by June’s second week Anchorage was enjoying almost 20 hours of daylight. Winter doldrums were a distant memory; the whole town was in a good mood.

Sunday we woke early. Sun streamed in the window, warming our faces. The sky was clear bright blue. Staying in bed wasn’t possible. We headed out to find a beach where we could harvest wild plants.

After making the circuit of possible foraging sites, we finally came across a field of beach lovage (Ligusticum scoticum).  Also known as Scotch lovage, sea lovage, wild celery, and petrushki, beach lovage grows on sandy beaches along the coasts of Alaska, Canada, and the Northeastern United States.

Beach lovage is easy to identify with its three-lobed leaflets and smooth, reddish-purple stem.  It’s best harvested before flowering.

One caution: Beach lovage is in the Umbelliferae family and its flowers are similar to those of relatives like carrots, parsley, and dill. However, water hemlock, a poisonous plant is also in the Umbelliferae family, and has similar flowers but very different leaves. As with all wild foraging, be certain you know what you’re gathering and be sure to follow the forager’s primary rule: “when in doubt, throw it out.”

The flavor of fresh beach lovage is unique and wonderful. The closest approximation would be to mix celery, parsley, and a little lemon zest, but there is still a missing flavor, the hint of wild bitterness that makes beach lovage special.

Although the flavors of purslane and beach lovage are not at all the same, both have a tart freshness that can't be purchased in a supermarket. As I tossed about ideas for using the beach lovage, I kept thinking about the Purslane-Tomato Salad we'd had last summer. With that in mind, I started mixing and tasting, adding cucumbers, then more mint, then more lemon juice, a little of each at a time, until the balance of flavors was correct for beach lovage - and for our palates.

In the last two weeks, I’ve used beach lovage in a risotto that was devoured by guests, a lovely topping for pan-fried halibut, and delicious halibut cakes.  The best way I served beach lovage was in the modified version of my Greek Purslane-Tomato Salad.

Beach Lovage-Tomato Salad/Salsa (Ντομάτα Σαλάτα με «Άγριο Σέλινο»)

Serves 4 as a salad, or 8 as salsa for serving with fish

If you don’t have beach lovage, substitute 1/4 cup minced parsley, 1/4 cup minced celery leaves, and 1/2 tsp. finely grated lemon zest (or 3 Tbsp. minced parsley, 1 Tbsp. minced lovage, and 1/2 tsp. finely grated lemon zest).

Dressing:

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

3 Tbsp. fresh lemon juice

Salt

Freshly ground black pepper

Salad:

1 1/2 cups diced tomatoes, 1/2” dice

1 1/2 cups diced cucumbers, 1/2” dice

3/4 cup diced red onions, 1/2” dice

1/2 cup minced fresh beach lovage leaves

3 Tbsp. minced fresh mint

Make the dressing: Whisk the olive oil into the lemon juice. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste.

Make the salad: Toss all the ingredients together. Drizzle with the dressing and toss again. (You may not need all the dressing.) Taste and add salt or freshly ground black pepper, as needed. 

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This post is included in Weekend Herb Blogging compiled by Chris from Mele Cotte.

Recipe: Spinach Saganaki (Σπανάκι Σαγανάκι)

Fresh garden greens started trickling into Anchorage farmers’ markets this morning. In two weeks, the trickle will turn into a flood. Greens of all kinds thrive in our cool maritime climate.

Though cultivated greens are only now appearing, we’ve been eating wild greens for the past month. As soon as the snow melted, dandelion greens insistently pushed their way through the saturated earth and were ready to be harvested.  Fireweed shoots, devil’s club, and nettles; chickweed, dock, lamb’s quarters, and shepherd’s purse; all end up in the pot. (For tips on harvesting wild plants, go here.)

Until my husband and I first lived in Greece (1987), eating wild plants never once crossed my mind. I grew up in a family where picky eating was an art form. My father didn’t eat cheese, yogurt, or sour cream. My mother didn’t eat lamb, broccoli, cauliflower, cucumbers, squash, green pepper, and so many other foods I could never keep track.  If my parents didn’t eat it, neither did we.  Plus I had my own food quirks; raw tomatoes didn’t pass my lips until I was 24.

So wild greens? Not likely. It wasn’t just my family; the concept of eating wild greens didn’t remotely exist in the small Pacific Northwest town in which we were raised.  In our world, food came from the grocery store. Food could also come from the garden, but only from seeds that were planted and carefully tended. For wild food, we only knew berries, seafood, and dead animals. 

When  the first rains came the autumn of our arrival in Greece, there was a palpable sense of excitement in the village.  Once the rain stopped, half the village took to the fields, quickly gathering the emerging flush of snails. Over the next week, the dirt roads surrounding the village became peppered with the bent-over backsides of black-clad women, systematically working their way through the fields, gathering an abundance of fresh wild greens.

Though my Greek was limited in those days, I learned by example which greens were tastiest, how to harvest them, and how to clean them. I learned a mixture of different greens cooked together tastes better than a single variety cooked on its own.  I learned to love and crave greens of all kinds, wild and domesticated.  Most importantly, foraging became a permanent, enriching part of our lives.

These days, we eat greens several times a week, and I regularly post recipes using them.

For the past year, my favorite greens recipe has been Spinach Saganaki, based on a dish we had at Tzitzikas and Mermigas (Τζίτζικας και Μέρμηγκας), a restaurant on Mitropoleos Street, just off Syntagma Square, in downtown Athens. (A tasty place to eat on a shady street, particularly if you’re carrying a heavy load of way too many cookbooks; but that’s another story.) I’ve made the dish with a wide range of different greens, alone and combined, including spinach, Swiss chard, kale, amaranth, nettles, and dandelions; every version has been a success.

Two notes about the name:

1) I like calling it Spinach Saganaki only because it translates in Greek to the perfectly alliterative “Spanaki Saganaki.” Ignore the name and don’t limit yourself to making it with spinach; the dish is delicious with all kinds of greens. 

2) I recently described this dish to someone who asked why it had “saganaki” in the name since it didn’t include flaming cheese.  In Greek, “saganaki” is a small two-handled frying-pan, and gives its name to a range of dishes that are traditionally served in the pan, including shrimp saganaki, mussels saganaki, and cheese saganaki. As for setting cheese saganaki on fire, I’ve seen it done in Greece rarely, though it’s common in the US. I can’t explain the difference.

Spinach Saganaki (Σπανάκι Σαγανάκι)

Serves 4 as vegetable or 8 as part of appetizer spread (mezedes/μεζέδες)

Inspired by Βλητοκορφές Σαγανάκι at Tzitzikas and Mermigas/Τζίτζικας και Μέρμηγκας in Athens, Greece

Any wild or domesticated greens, alone or in combination, may be used for Saganaki. Because they cook fastest, it's easiest with greens like spinach, Swiss chard, domesticated dandelions, nettles, vlita (amaranth greens), or poppies. The recipe may be assembled hours in advance and refrigerated; bring to room temperature before baking.)

1/4 cup chopped fresh dill

1/4 cup chopped Italian parsley

3/4 cup chopped green onions, both white and green parts

3/4 cup diced fresh tomatoes, 3/4” dice

1/2 - 3/4 cup roughly crumbled feta cheese

3 -4 Tbsp. olive oil

Salt

Freshly ground black pepper

1/2 pound spinach, or any roughly chopped, cleaned greens (6 packed cups raw, 1 1/2 cups cooked)

Preheat the oven to 400°F.

Mix together all the ingredients except the spinach.

Bring a large pot of salted water to the boil. Add the spinach and cook just until it wilts (NOTE: The length of cooking time depends on the greens used. Spinach is done after 10 seconds; tougher greens will take longer.) Drain the spinach, quickly squeeze out any excess liquid, and mix it with the other ingredients. (The recipe may be made ahead to this point.)

Put the greens mixture in a 9” glass pie pan or other shallow baking dish.  Bake for 10 minutes.  Serve immediately with crusty bread and olives.

Variation: Substitute Peppadew peppers, or roasted red peppers, for the tomatoes. I’ve done this when I’ve been out of tomatoes and it changes the dish entirely, but in a very delicious way.  With tomatoes, the flavor of the dish is lighter and fresher; with peppers the flavor is deeper and heartier.

Variation: Substitute wild sea lovage or purslane for the parsley. (I’ll write about wild sea lovage and purslane tomorrow or the next day.)

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This post is included in Weekend Herb Blogging hosted by Rachel from The Crispy Cook.

Recipe: Asparagus Pistachio Pesto

The sun is shining, the sky is blue, wood frogs are singing love songs in the pond, and the last bit of snow on our property melted this afternoon.  Life is good.

Today’s good fortune follows yesterday’s happy evening spent with life-long friends. The food was excellent; the conversation even better (except, perhaps, when I was motor-mouthing). Ali and Tissy made richly delicious Salmon Chowder, using wild Alaska salmon. Moira and Jake oven-roasted vegetables, always a treat.  Teeny made her famous wild blueberry pies with berries she foraged and froze last summer.

I took advantage of asparagus flooding local markets to make seasonally fresh Asparagus Pistachio Pesto sauce for pasta.  I was inspired to create pesto with asparagus by my recent success with Lime, Cilantro & Edamame Spread, one of the tastiest things I’ve made all year. If edamame beans worked for pesto, I thought, why not asparagus?

Asparagus Pistachio Pesto was a resounding success. Lemon balanced the sweetness of asparagus, pistachios enhanced its nutty flavor, parmesan added richness, and garlic and mint downplayed asparagus’s grassiness without overpowering its spring green freshness. Even 2-year-old Maggie was a fan!

Asparagus Pistachio Pesto

Serves 6-8

Asparagus Pistachio Pesto is quite versatile. It’s perfect for pasta, but would also be good with boiled potatoes, sautéed vegetables, grilled/pan-fried seafood, poultry, sandwiches, and countless other partners. Roasting or grilling asparagus adds depth to pesto’s flavor, but you may instead blanch the asparagus for 2-3 minutes in boiling, salted water, and then cool it quickly in cold water. To speed things up, on a day when you’re grilling and have a hot fire, grill asparagus and save it to make Asparagus Pistachio Pesto the next day.  Pesto may also be made ahead; if you do, leave out the lemon juice and mix it in just before serving; this helps preserve pesto’s lovely green color.  To add richness and crunch, pistachios are used in both the pesto and as a garnish, for a total of 1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons nuts. If you don’t have pistachios, pine nuts make a fine substitute. 

Parmigiano Reggiano is the best quality of “parmesan” cheese available; I like using it (and best quality extra virgin olive oil) in uncooked sauces where the flavors of individual ingredients really make a difference in the finished dish.  However, any cheese suitable for grating may be substituted for Parmigiano Reggiano. (In Anchorage, Costco sells reasonably priced Parmigiano Reggiano.)  I list the amount of cheese in ounces because 1 ounce of cheese can measure 1/4 cup or 3/4 cup depending on the type of grater used.  If you can’t measure cheese by weight, add a little at a time to the processor bowl until there’s enough to richly flavor the pesto, but not enough to overpower the asparagus.

For the asparagus:

1 pound asparagus

2 tsp. olive oil

Salt

Freshly ground black pepper

For the asparagus pesto:

Prepared asparagus stalks (tips reserved for garnish)

1/2 cup raw pistachio nuts, lightly toasted (to toast pistachios, see NOTE below)

2 ounces freshly grated Parmigiano Reggiano cheese

3 Tbsp. best quality extra virgin olive oil

2-3 cloves garlic, chopped

2 Tbsp. fresh mint chiffonade (thinly sliced)

1/2 tsp. salt

1 Tbsp. finely grated lemon peel

2-3 Tbsp. fresh lemon juice

For the pasta:

1 pound dry pasta of any shape or size

1 recipe asparagus pesto

Reserved asparagus tips

2 Tbsp. lightly toasted pistachio nuts, roughly chopped

Freshly grated Parmigiano Reggiano cheese

Precook the Asparagus:  For grilling, heat the grill to high.  For oven-roasting, preheat the oven to 510°F (if your oven doesn’t go that high, preheat it as high as your oven goes); put in a baking sheet to preheat with the oven. 

Snap woody ends off asparagus.  Toss asparagus with olive oil and season with salt and freshly ground black pepper.  Cook asparagus until just barely tender, about 4 minutes on the grill and about 5 minutes on the preheated baking sheet in the oven.  If using oven, when asparagus is done, take it off baking sheet immediately after removing it from oven.  Cut tips off asparagus and reserve for garnish.  Cut asparagus stalks into 1”lengths. 

Make the Pesto:  Put asparagus stalks in food processor bowl.  Add pistachios, cheese, olive oil, garlic, mint, salt, lemon peel, and 2 Tbsp. lemon juice (if making pesto ahead, don’t add lemon juice until final assembly to preserve pesto’s color).  Process until the ingredients are thoroughly combined, being sure to scrape down the bowl’s sides from time to time.  Taste and add lemon juice, as needed.

Cook the Pasta and Assemble:  Put a large pot of well-salted water over high heat until it’s rapidly boiling. Add the pasta and give it a stir to make sure pasta isn’t sticking to the pot’s bottom. Cook just until pasta is al dente.  Reserve 1 cup of pasta cooking water. Drain pasta.

Stir together cooked pasta, prepared pesto, and 1/2 cup of pasta cooking water until ingredients are well combined (add lemon juice if it wasn’t previously added to pesto). If the mixture is too thick, add the remaining pasta cooking water, as needed.  Taste and add salt, freshly ground black pepper, or lemon juice, as needed.  Top with reserved asparagus tips and pistachio nuts; toss lightly. Serve with bowl of freshly grated Parmigiano Reggiano cheese on the side.

NOTE:  To toast raw pistachio nuts, put them on a baking sheet in a preheated 325°F oven for 6-8 minutes, watching carefully to make sure they don’t burn. Take pistachios off baking sheet as soon as you remove it from oven.
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This is my entry for Weekend Herb Blogging, hosted this week Marija from Palachinka.

Round-Up: Weekend Herb Blogging #213

Weekend Herb Blogging celebrates the flavors and textures of herbs, fruits, and vegetables. Each week a different blogger takes responsibility for summarizing the delicious and nutritious recipes posted to Weekend Herb Blogging in the preceding week. This week it’s my turn.

Italian-inspired Fig Carpaccio from Australia, Middle Eastern-style Grilled Eggplant with Yogurt-Mint Sauce from Canada, and Swedish Ginger Cookies from Italy are a few of last week’s tasty dishes.  Their names alone, even without reading the fascinating posts accompanying the recipes, illustrate the multi-cultural, multi-national nature of Weekend Herb Blogging.

Without further ado, here’s this week’s round-up:

Saveur of The Taste Space

Toronto, Canada

Super Soft Pumpkin Cookies with Cranberries, Walnuts and Orange Zest

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Graziana of Erbe in Cucina (Cooking with Herbs)

Italy

Stir-Fried Bok Choy

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Ben of What’s Cooking?

Columbus, Ohio, United States

Spaghetti Squash

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Elizabeth of Blog from OUR Kitchen

Toronto, Canada

Grilled Eggplant with Yogurt-Mint Sauce

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Winnie of Healthy Green Kitchen

New Paltz, New York, United States

Arugula Salad with Pomegranate, Avocado, and Goat Cheese

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Kalyn of Kalyn’s Kitchen
Salt Lake City, Utah, United States

Low-Sugar Whole Wheat and Oatmeal Spice Cake with Fuyu Persimmons

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Yeoh Cheng Huann of Eat.Read.Live

Singapore

Boiled Chinese Yellow Pear with Chinese Almond Dessert

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Tigerfish of Teczcape: An Escape to Food

California, United States

Celery and Fragrant Tofu Salad

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Haalo of Cook (Almost) Anything at Least Once
Melbourne, Australia

Fig Carpaccio

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Susan of The Well-Seasoned Cook

New York, United States

Sweatbox Potatoes

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Mangocheeks of Allotment 2 Kitchen

Scotland

Tarka Mung Bean Dal

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Cinzia of Cindystar

Lake Garda, Italy

S.O.S. Cookies

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Brii of Brii’s Blog
Lake Garda, Italy

Pepparkakor (Swedish Ginger Cookies)

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Next week Weekend Herb Blogging will be hosted by Haalo of Cook (Almost) Anything at Least Once. Haalo is the coordinator of WHB, having generously taken over the responsibility from Kalyn of Kalyn’s Kitchen who created WHB. If you want to participate, please send your entries to whb AT cookalmostanything DOT com by 3pm Utah time, Sunday, December 20, 2009.