healthy eating

Meatless Monday Recipe: Kale and White Bean Stew

I BECAME A KALE FAN JUST A FEW YEARS AGO when my friend Brenda made an amazing kale and roasted chicken recipe for a dinner party. But since today is Monday—Meatless Monday—that recipe will just have to wait. Instead, how about this amazing stew of kale and white beans, adapted from a recipe by Chef Dan Barber, of Blue Hill and Blue Hill at Stone Barns? Not only is it a delicious mix of tastes and textures, but it’s positively overflowing with goodness. 
 
Kale is one of those superfoods. “Move over Popeye and make room for the ‘queen of greens,’ kale,” advises WebMD: One cup of kale has 5 grams of fiber, we learn, 15% of the daily requirement of calcium and vitamin B6, 40% of the magnesium requirement, 180% of vitamin A, 200% of vitamin C and 1,020% of vitamin K. (Too much vitamin K isn’t good for everyone. Anyone taking anticoagulants, for instance, is advised to avoid kale.) Kale is also a good source of minerals. Check out the whole list of nutrients here. Choose organic kale, when you can, because conventionally grown has been found to have pesticide residues of particular concern.
 
Serve this stew with crusty bread for a wonderful light supper. Leftovers are great for lunch, too.
 
Kale and White Bean Stew
Serves 4
 
1 1/2 lbs kale leaves, center ribs and stems removed
3 tbs extra-virgin olive oil
1 cup peeled carrots, chopped
1 cup celery, chopped
4 chopped shallots
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 cup dry white wine
2 15-ounce cans cannellini or other white beans (preferably organic), drained
6 San Marzano canned tomatoes, roughly chopped
4 cups (or more) vegetable broth
3 fresh thyme sprigs
1 bay leaf
1 tbs Sherry wine vinegar
a handful of assorted chopped fresh herbs (such as tarragon, parsley, chives)
 
 
Cook kale for 1 minute in large pot of boiling salted water. Drain. Transfer to bowl of ice water to cool briefly. Drain and squeeze out excess water. Coarsely chop kale.
 
Heat olive oil in medium pot over medium heat. Add carrots, celery, shallots and garlic; cook until soft, stirring, about 15 minutes (do not brown).
 
Add white wine and simmer until liquid is slightly reduced, about 7 minutes.
 
Add white beans, tomatoes, 4 cups broth, thyme sprigs and bay leaf and bring to boil. Reduce heat to medium-low and simmer 20 minutes.
 
Add kale and simmer 5 minutes longer.
 
Remove thyme sprigs and bay leaf. Add more broth by 1/2 cupfuls to thin stew, if desired.
 
Mix in Sherry wine vinegar and chopped fresh herbs. Season with salt and pepper.

RECIPE: Farro Salad with Red Peppers and Beans

I GOT A JUMPSTART ON MEATLESS MONDAY this weekend when my friend made the most delicious Mediterranean farro salad as we all lazed about taking in the spring sunshine. As some of you surely know by now, I’m a big fan of this ancient grain; farro has a wonderful nutty flavor and a satisfying bite. So I’m always happy to expand my repertoire of dishes to make with it, and I think you will be, too. 
 
This is a very flexible recipe: Substitute asparagus for the beans (cut the spears into 3-inch pieces and cook in boiling water for 3 to 5 minutes) or use yellow peppers instead of red. Replace chives with a thinly chopped scallion or two, or some red onion. And, of course, what could be better than doubling the recipe for a family picnic or potluck this summer? Happy Meatless Monday. And thank you Pam.
 
Pamela Ferrari’s Farro Salad
Serves 4–6, as side salad or light lunch
 
1½ cups semi-pearled or pearled farro
1 red pepper, sliced into thin strips
½ lb green beans or haricot verts
½ cup pitted black olives
1/3 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1 small bunch chives, chopped, or half a small red onion, sliced thinly
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
¼ cup sherry vinegar
2 tsp Dijon mustard
½ tsp salt, or to taste
Ground black pepper, to taste
 
Bring a medium saucepan of salted water to the boil. Add farro and boil gently, uncovered, for about 20 minutes, until al dente. Drain and put in a large serving bowl to cool. *
 
Cook green beans in boiling salted water for 2 minutes, or until just tender. Drain and transfer briefly to a bowl of iced water to stop the cooking. Drain again and pat dry.
 
Once the farro is cool, combine the beans, olives (slice them if they’re big, or leave whole if you use tiny ones, like Niçoise), red pepper, Parmesan and chives or red onions with the farro.
 
In a small bowl, whisk together the sherry vinegar, olive oil, mustard, pepper and salt.
 
Pour the dressing over the salad, toss and serve.
 
* In a rush? Cool the farro more quickly by spreading it out on a cookie sheet.     

RECIPE: Fennel, Orange and Radish Salad


 
ORANGES, RADISHES AND RED ONION make a lovely salad on their own; Moroccan, Tunisian and Egyptian cooking all have tasty examples. For this meal, I decided to add fennel, for a welcome crunch—and because there it was, at the market. The dressing is an orange citronette (using orange juice as the acid, instead of lemon or vinegar). To prepare the orange segments, cut off each end of the orange, stand it on end and, using a sharp knife, cut downward in an arc, taking the pith and peel off. Finally, separate each segment from the membrane. (Here’s a handy video from Food52 if you’d like a demo.)
 
Serves 6
 
2 fennel bulbs, halved, cored, then very thinly sliced to create crescent shapes
2 oranges, peeled and in segments, membranes removed
4 radishes, thinly sliced (a mandoline makes this easy)
1/2 small red onion, halved, then very thinly sliced
Handful of mint leaves
   For the citronette:
Zest and juice of one orange
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 tsp Dijon mustard
Sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper
 
Combine fennel, orange segments, radishes and onion in a bowl.
 
In a separate bowl, combine the orange zest and juice with the mustard, then whisk in the olive oil. Add salt and pepper to taste.
 
Pour citronette into the bowl with the fennel combo, add mint leaves and toss gently. 

RECIPE: Tunisian-Style Carrot Salad


 
I’VE COME ACROSS MANY DIFFERENT VERSIONS of Tunisian and Moroccan carrot salads. Some are made with julienned raw carrots, often with raisins added. This one, though, is made with cooked carrots, which are tossed with a spicy citronette at the end. (Tunisian carrot salad is sometimes garnished with hard-boiled eggs and olives, a version that would make a great light lunch on its own.) A good harissa (hot chili sauce), made at Les Moulins Mahjoub in Tunisia, is available at Le Pain Quotidien. 
 
Serves 4, as side dish
 
1 lb carrots, peeled and cut into thin (1/4-inch) angled slices
2-3 tbs lemon juice (depending how lemony you want it)
½ tsp ground cumin
¼ tsp ground cinnamon
1/8 tsp cayenne (or more, to taste)
1/8 tsp harissa
4 tbs extra-virgin olive oil
Handful of flat-leaf parlsey, chopped
Sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper
 
Boil a medium saucepan of salted water and cook the carrot slices for 5 to 6 minutes. Don’t let them get mushy.
 
While the carrots are cooking, whisk together the lemon juice, spices, harissa and extra-virgin olive oil in a small bowl.
 
Drain carrots, let cool a little and place in a bowl.
 
Add the citronette to the carrots and the parsley and toss gently. Let stand for 10 minutes or so, so that the flavors combine.
 
Add salt and pepper to taste. 

Two Mediterranean Salads for the Thanksgiving Table

 
DAVID TANIS, WHO FOR MANY YEARS WAS CHEF AT CHEZ PANISSE, was writing in the Times last week about how chutneys, relishes and pickles can brighten up the traditional Thanksgiving turkey, gravy and stuffing. He wasn’t dissing the Thanksgiving meal, but he pointed out that the usual add-ons to this trio, delicious as they may be, “simply seem to add more richness.”
 
That got me thinking: Wouldn’t the much-loved citrus notes in Mediterranean cooking also help “brighten up an otherwise one-note meal,” as Tanis put it? When I first got interested in Med cuisine, I was amazed and thrilled by all the different uses of oranges and lemons and grapefruits. Grapefruit and fennel salsa with roasted halibut, sliced oranges with black olive spread or in a salad with beets, lemon zest on a roasted chicken dish. Lemons, especially, have become a pantry staple now for me.
 
But back to Thanksgiving. Carrots and fennel were plentiful at the farmers’ market this week. I thought they might work well for my citrus-y mission and complement the traditional Thanksgiving menu as well.
 
 
 
The dishes I came up with are both inspired by the countries on the southern shores of the Mediterranean—Morocco and Tunisia in particular. The cooked carrot salad is lemony and redolent of the spices of the Maghreb. The fennel, orange and radish salad incorporates the zest and juice of an orange, as well as orange segments, with fresh mint adding the final flavor boost. Both certainly add a bright note and lightness to the meal. I can even see leaving the fennel salad til the end of the meal, as a little palate cleanser before those fabulous desserts.
 


 
 

Browsing the Cookbooks for Monkfish Recipes

I JUST GOT MY WEEKLY E-MAIL FROM MERMAID’S GARDEN, the CSF (Community Supported Fishery) I belong to, telling me what fish had been caught this week for me—and the other 200+ CSF members. Monkfish!   

I will never forget the first time I ate monkfish. We were on the road somewhere in southern France—on the outskirts of Orange, I think, in the Vaucluse—and we stopped at a bistro for dinner. On the menu, under Poisson, was something called lotte.  “What is this lotte?” I inquired. “Une espèce de poisson,” was the reply (“a type of fish”), which was about as helpful as when I had asked—this time in bilingual Montréal—“what is the soupe du jour?” and the answer came back: “the soup of the day.” Really? I’d been hoping for a few more details. For starters, was lotte an ocean fish, from the Mediterranean, a lake, a stream? Was it mackerel cousin or might-as-well-be-Dover-sole? Anyway, I decided to take a leap of faith, and it turned out to be delicious. I’ve eaten it more than a few times since, especially enjoying it in Mediterranean soups and stews.  

This time around, thanks to Bianca and Mark at Mermaid’s Garden, I learn quite a bit more about the fish itself. As they wrote in their e-mail:

“There are a lot of interesting things about Lophius americanus, but perhaps the most curious thing about this fish is what and how it eats. Recently we got an email telling us about a monkfish that was caught with seven ducks in its belly! We passed the news along to a fisherman friend of ours on the Cape, who said, “A monkfish tried to eat my leg once. Did some good damage to my boots.” Turns out that monkfish will eat just about anything they can fit into their gigantic mouths, which may be why another common name for the fish is devilfish. Monkfish are anglers, which means they catch their prey using a lure called an esca that is attached to the top of the fish’s head. Anything that touches the esca triggers an automatic reflex of the monkfish’s jaw. Monkfish like their dinner to come to them, so they mostly spend their time buried into the sea floor or “walking” slowly along it on their sturdy pectoral fins.”     

I also learn from them that in the late 1990s, monkfish populations had become overfished. “This fact, combined with the fact that most monkfish are caught in trawls, which can harm the ocean floor, led to monkfish being an unsustainable choice.” However, today, “monkfish populations exceed target levels, and both trawl and gill net fishermen employ quite a few mechanisms to reduce bycatch.”  

My particular monkfish was gill netted off Montauk on the F/V Sea Devil—pretty funny, considering the fish’s nickname—“by a fisherman who refers to himself as Billy the Kid. Known to others simply as ‘the kid.’ (We are not making this up, Mark and Bianca write, “pinky swear.”)  

Monkfish may be one of the ugliest fish in the sea, but its taste redeems it: fresh, slightly sweet, with a firm texture, it’s been called “poor man’s lobster.” And it’s full of goodness: niacin, vitamins B6 and B12, potassium, as well as being very good source of selenium. It has a gray membrane surrounding the flesh, which your fishmonger can remove, or you can do it yourself (with the help of this video—start at minute 3:10).  

How to Cook It? Knowing that Mediterranean cuisines like to use monkfish, I start browsing my cookbooks and the web, looking for recipes. I find monkfish couscous, roasted monkfish with tomatoes and olives, Andalusian monkfish ragout. Jamie Oliver has what looks like a delicious grilled or roasted monkfish with black olive sauce and lemon mash, just the kind of full-of-Mediterranean-flavors dish I like. Sara Jenkins’s Olives and Oranges, includes a monkfish dish with her wintertime take on Sicilian caponata, made from olives, potatoes and sun-dried tomatoes. I made this the last time we had monkfish, and I’d be happy to eat it again, but I’m in the mood to be adventurous. Mark Usewicz, the chef behind Mermaid’s Garden (Bianca’s a marine biologist) has posted a couple of delicious sounding recipes on Mermaid’s Garden’s Facebook page: Mark’s Monkfish with Clams and Cranberry Beans and Mark’s Fish in Mustard Curry. (I noticed this week that Dave Pasternack’s Il Pesce, Eataly’s fish restaurant, has a monkfish/clam combo on its menu right now, too: Crispy Monkfish Cheeks with Local Clams, Steamers and Meyer Lemon Aioli. The cheeks are quite small and a prized delicacy, I hear.)  

To tell you the truth, these dishes all sound good, making it hard to choose. In the end, though, to take advantage of how super, super fresh I know this fish will be, I decide on Monkfish “Carpaccio,” from Patricia Wells At Home in Provence. The recipe is beyond simple: thinly sliced monkfish, which is then grilled for less than a minute, with only olive oil, lemon juice, chives and sea salt added. I like the idea of the sweet flesh of the fish taking center stage. To accompany it, I’ll make a simple green salad, and I have the perfect bottle of Muscadet Sèvre et Maine, from Domaine de la Pinardière, chilling in the fridge. Crisp, clean tastes all around.

RECIPE: Beans and Red, Yellow and Orange Peppers Salad

 
SOMETIMES A FARMERS’ MARKET STAND JUST LEAPS UP AT YOU and says, “Make this dish!” At this time of year, that dish often involves peppers. Piled up in gorgeous multicolored heaps, who can resist?
 
 
For this recipe, I add chopped up peppers to a few staples from the cupboard—canned cannellini and garbanzo beans, which I stock up on at Whole Foods, plus extra-virgin olive oil and red wine vinegar—and a generous handful of mint. It makes a fall meal full of wake-you-up tastes and crunch. If you like, you can top it off with crumbled feta or goat cheese—adding a salty zest and some extra protein.
 
 
Oh, and a loaf of crusty bread and a bottle of crisp Albariño from Spain are always welcome accompaniments.
 
Generously serves 4 as a main dish
 
1 red pepper
1 orange pepper
1 yellow pepper
1 15-oz. can cannellini beans
1 15-oz. can chickpeas (garbanzo beans)
½ small red onion, diced
1 garlic clove, minced
1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil
3 tbs. red wine vinegar
Sea salt and freshly ground pepper
A good handful (½ cup or more) fresh mint leaves, cut into thin strips (chiffonade) or left whole if very young and tender
Fresh feta or goat cheese (optional), for topping
 
Core, seed and dice the peppers into ¼-inch pieces and place in a serving bowl big enough to fit all ingredients. Drain and rinse the beans. Zap them for 20 seconds or so in the microwave, ’til just warm, and set aside. In a small bowl, whisk together the olive oil, vinegar and garlic, and pour over the beans. Let sit for 10 or 15 minutes. Add beans, onion and mint to the peppers, and gently mix. Season with sea salt and pepper, to taste.

 

At the Market This Week: Desperado Chefs and Salade Niçoise Royale

MY FRIDAY MORNING RITUAL is to visit my neighborhood farmers’ market on West 97th Street, often with one friend or another who lives nearby. Today—because it was pouring rain of course—I decided to switch things up a bit and make the trek down to Union Square Greenmarket. I have to say the sights just made me feel like singin’ in the rain.
 
 
 
 
I was early enough to bump into (be run over by) chefs foraging for the day’s ingredients. You can learn a lot from how they eye the produce and then hone in on, say, the romano beans and buy four big bags of them. Plus perfect bunches of dandelion greens. You look at what they choose and see that, yes, it is at its peak of perfection that day, at that farm stand. (And as Mario Batali once pointed out—in encouraging people on all sorts of budgets to shop at farmers’ markets—when you buy a particular crop at its season’s peak, it’ll also be at its cheapest.)
 
 
One hyperfocused chef/cook (maybe he was running late and worried he’d miss out on a crucial ingredient) rushed into the Migliorelli Farm stand and said, “I want all your Tuscan kale, all of it. I’ll take all you have.” Now this is not a small farm stand, so that’s a big load of kale! Tuscan kale soup? Sautéed Tuscan kale? Maybe the menu will reveal all.
 
 
As usual, I bought enough beans and tomatoes and potatoes and greens to feed an army and give me a good upper body workout at the same time. With a lovely piece of Yellowfin Tuna from Mermaid’s Garden in my fridge, I have all the makings of a Salade Niçoise Royale, as Nancy Harmon Jenkins refers to the new-fangled version of this dish that includes tuna. In The New Mediterranean Diet Cookbook, she reminds us that traditionalists don’t include tuna, or even potatoes. I guess in this case I’m not a traditionalist.
 
 
On the way home, I stopped by Eataly to refuel with a latte and apricot croissant. It was just after opening hour and the place was amazingly calm. I relaxed for a while and then strolled through the store, spotting the frisée (above) I needed and hadn’t found at the market. That will be for a salad with golden beets. But more about that another day.  

At the Market This Week

ABUNDANCE! I GO TO THE FARMERS’ MARKET year-round, but there’s nothing like the pleasure of seeing pristine summer crops piled up one after the other. Since I don’t have a family of eight, I try to be reasonable in my purchases but it’s hard to resist.  

  
 
What do you get for $16 at the market?
 
A Renaissance painting.
 
  
Cherry (tomato) candies.
 
 
A riff on the Italian flag.
 
 
Peaches so juicy you have to eat them over the kitchen sink.
 

Ready for Winter Stews? Not Me

I KNOW IT’S OFFICIALLY AUTUMN, but I’m not at all ready to say, ‘goodbye summer’ yet. Despite tropical storm Irene—and the date on the calendar—tomatoes are still showing up in New York City’s farmers’ market in a stunning mix of shapes and flavors. There are peppers of every shade—and peaches, too. And this weekend on a visit to the Hudson Valley, I ate the most delicious just-picked corn. Now what could be more summery than tomatoes and corn on the cob?

Repeat after me: Winter will never come, winter will never come....

 

 

 

 

 

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