Yellow Indian Cabbage

So, what else do you with all that cabbage?

I’m going to be totally honest, all wannabe vegetarians/part time vegetarians/omnivores/carnivores should be eating way more Indian food than we are now. This is because a) it’s delicious b) it’s much more sustainable (less meat-centric and all that c) it’s fun and shareable and d) it tastes reeaallly good. Yah.

Outside of the quintessential dal, chicken tikka masala, and saag paneer, none of which I have delineated here yet (/some I haven’t even attempted), there are some excellent Indian-style dishes that I actually have never ordered at an Indian restaurant. Like this one. Which has the added benefit of using up some of your endless cabbage (okay, it’s not that endless).

Actually cabbage is pretty amazing. It’s not quite as versatile as, say, eggs. But you can it is raw (shredded in slaw), stuffed, grilled, braised, inside crepes, roasted with cheese into a casserole, mixed into soups, what have you. One of my favorite things to do it slice it thinly on top of tacos, sandwiches, or whatever else you happen to be eating (fried tofu? with a little lemon or vinegar? lunch). It takes flavors well, which is what makes it nice for Indian food, with its fantastic array of spices.

I may have mentioned that cabbage is rather prolific this time of year.

Oh! This furthermore gives you an opportunity to use fresh turmeric. Turmeric root looks a lot like ginger, except that it’s bright orange on the inside, and guess what—it grows in Maine (along with all sorts of unexpected crops)! Incroyable, non?

This recipe is originally from Girl Cooks World, which is pretty great. It’s super fun once the mustard seeds start popping because they are quite loud and your kitchen begins to sound a little rambunctious.

Yellow Indian Cabbage
1/3 cup oil
1-1/2 teaspoons mustard seeds
5 cloves garlic
1-1/2 teaspoons ground turmeric
A knob of fresh turmeric, minced
A medium-sized cabbage, cored and thinly sliced
Salt
Cayenne

Chop everything up and have it all ready to go, because this will go quickly. Heat oil until quite hot over high heat in a large-ish pan (I used my nice big cast iron). Add the mustard seeds and quickly cover the pan, before oil and seeds fly everywhere. At some point the pops will begin to taper off (it’s like making popcorn, you have to be listening), add the garlic and both turmerics. Turn down the heat and stir until slightly soft. Mix in the rest of the ingredients and coat the cabbage with what is now a yellow oil. Cook down the cabbage a bit, again until slightly soft but not mushy (I was about to write, “unless you are inexplicably a fan of mushy cabbage,” but if you are a fan of mushy cabbage you are wrong, and must learn better ways).

Serve with samosas, naan, or something entirely unrelated. It’s delicious either way. If you’re not a vegetarian, you could stir in some (just a little) cooked ground beef and it would be a more complete meal.

By the way, if you haven’t yet seen The Hundred Food Journey, I think you would enjoy it. Indian food, a village in France, a cute French girl and an attractive Indian boy, and Helen Mirren. Yup.

Bean Squash Kale Chili

Sometimes you need a good, hearty chili, heavy on the beans. To mix it up from classic tomato-based chili, add squash and kale, and extra garlic (we all know by now that squash and kale go super well together. I put them on pizza, flatbread, in pasta, and evidently in chili). Great with a nice chunk of cornbread on the side (hopefully made with local cornmeal).

I admittedly made this a few months ago when I had a few more fresh vegetables. But still manageable now, if you’ve got kale left, or soon when the farms have it again (the trouble with growing vegetables this time of year is the light, or lack thereof).

Basis for the recipe from Goop (the link keeps changing for some reason so if it doesn’t work and you’re dying to look at it, google “black bean squash chili goop”).

Bean squash chili
1 cup dry beans (any kind you want—black is more traditional, but I used Jacob's cattle beans because I love them and it's what I had)
1 small onion, diced
2 garlic cloves, minced
A few diced tomatoes, or 1 small can
Other veggies (like sweet peppers), if you have them
Olive oil
4 cups chicken or vegetable stock
1 teaspoon cumin
2 teaspoons chili powder
2 hot peppers (chipotle would be best, although not what I had), roughly chopped
1/2 of a small butternut squash
3-4 large leaves of kale, washed and chopped
salt + pepper

Soak the beans overnight, or the morning before cooking them. I also roasted the squash a little bit first—it gives it more flavor, and makes it easier to chop up; but this is pretty flexible. You can either roast it in halves first, until pretty soft, and then scoop out and chop up and add it at the end; peel and chop before roasting (good for flavor but kind of a huge pain) and add at the end (or don’t even roast, and just boil with the beans); or a mix—roast it part way, enough to make it easier to peel, and then either roast the rest of the way or throw in the chili earlier. I did the last, which seemed easiest.

Chop or mince all the veggies. Heat up your pan with the spices (not salt) and toast them for 30-ish seconds until fragrant (this is the secret to getting the most out of your spices). Then add the oil and sauté for a few minutes, until the veggies are getting soft. Add the beans, and stock (or water), and cook for a while, until beans are starting to get soft. Depending on how much you are pre-cooking the squash, add them at some point (the squash takes about as long to cook as the beans). When both beans and squash are mixed together and basically cooked, add the salt, pepper, and chopped kale pieces. Cook the chili with the kale for a few minutes (it will soften up), taste and adjust seasonings, then serve.

If you have cilantro, sour cream, or a little cheese, little garnishes are an excellent supplement to any chili. Enjoy!

Savory Cornmeal Crêpes with Cabbage

Yum. Finding more ways to use that endless cabbage! I love crepes and had been thinking about making them for a while, but I sometimes have a hard time getting everything together for breakfast, which is usually when I make crepes (the sweet version, with lemon and sugar or berries). I keep trying to figure out new ways to use cabbage (cole slaw, braised, baked, with a variety of spices… there are a lot of options but it still can get tired), and when I remembered that I have Maine flint cornmeal from Songbird Farm I knew that was it.

One of the challenges of vegetarian meals is making them exciting centerpieces. Meat is the star feature of many dishes, but obviously it’s hard to have that without the steak, or whatever. Sometimes something else can be the star (goat cheese, ripe tomato, beans…), but it is rarely something like cabbage, and while that somehow makes my liberal egalitarian self feel a little guilty, I think it’s okay (honestly, turnips are just not as tasty as other vegetables. Sorry, turnips, just being frank. I still like you sometimes you’re just a little harder to figure out). So that means the whole dish needs to shine. Fortunately, crepes do the trick.

They are also not as difficult as you may conceptualize. Just whisk all the batter ingredients together and pour into a tilting pan. You can try to get fancy while flipping, but to be honest I still use a spatula—it’s more reliable. Getting the temperature of the pan right can be a little tricky, but once you get it they cook quickly and you can make them almost perfect every time.

Cornmeal crepes with cabbage
Filling:
1/2 cabbage
1 red onion
Spices: salt, pepper, turmeric, smoked paprika (to taste)
A couple teaspoons soy sauce
1 tsp miso (a new addition to my fridge pantry!)
A small block of farmer's (or other good melting) cheese

Crepes:
4 Tbsp butter
1/2 cup flour
1/2 cup cornmeal
1/2 tsp salt
3 eggs
1/3 cup water
1 cup milk

Start with the cabbage. Chop into fairly small pieces (I usually slice from one end about 1/4 inch thick, then go back and chop it up the other direction as well). Chop up the onion as well, in in 1/4-ish inch squares. Heat oil in a large pan and toss in cabbage and onions. Stir to coat the veggies in oil, and let them cook while you pull out the spices and throw them in as well. Stir, taste, and when the cabbage is getting soft, mix the miso and soy sauce together (this will make it easier to distribute the miso, which can get clumped up) and stir into the cabbage. It should be fairly soft by now; take off the heat and set aside (nearby) while you make the crepes.

Cut up the cheese in small pieces (or grate) and have at the ready.

Melt the butter in whatever pan you will be cooking the crepes (small nonstick is best, mine’s a little too big so I have to be careful when spreading the batter and it’s not perfectly circular). Mix the dry ingredients in a bowl. Measure out the eggs, milk, and water (I do this in a 2-cup measuring cup, which works perfectly—3 eggs is almost exactly 2/3 cup, and then you fill up the rest of the first cup with water, and add a cup of milk) and whisk them together. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry, and whisk until almost smooth (you can also do this in a food processor). Carefully pour in the melted butter (it should be melted by now, and the pan will be hot and buttery, which is important) and whisk immediately to prevent the hot butter from cooking the rest of the batter. Return the pan to the heat and make sure it is hot. The batter should be smooth and very liquid.

With a ladle or a small (say 1/3 cup) measuring cup, dip out about 1/4 cup batter and pour into the pan, while simultaneously tilting/swirling the pan with your other hand (watch a video if that helps) to evenly spread the batter over the pan. For thinner crepes, add a little extra milk or water to your batter. Let cook for a few seconds (maybe 30), until the corners of the crepe start to curl up or the edges get a little golden. Carefully slide your spatula under the crepe, loosening the whole thing before trying to flip it over, then flip all at once and cook the other side for a few seconds. Just about right after flipping, scoop out a tiny bit of cabbage (maybe 1.5 tablespoons?) and place in the middle of the crepe. Top with a few small pieces of cheese, then fold the edges of the crepe over (bottom edge first, then the sides, to make a little pocket) or roll it up. Remove from the pan and either serve to hungry friends or put in a pan to keep warm before serving.

Repeat with the rest of the batter! The cornmeal in these crepes tends to sink to the bottom of the batter a bit, so I recommend whisking before ladling out each crepe. If the pan starts sticking, add a little more butter and let it melt before adding more batter. Adjust the temperature if the crepes are cooking too slowly (not turning golden) or too fast (getting brown before you can flip them). I love having a gas stove.

I admittedly never fill my first crepe with anything, but eat it right out the pan as fast as possible, since it’s extra buttery and sooo delicious. Make sure you don’t use bad butter, wouldn’t want a bitter batter.

For normal crepes, just replace the cornmeal with flour. Great with Nutella. For these, though, next time I’m going to try using a little more cornmeal and see if it still works.

On another note: I often find myself reflecting on the difference between animals and humans. While learning all kinds of information about the origins of agriculture and how it allows for the creation of cities, etc (irrigation is the key to civilization, thank you Mr. McAtee from 6th grade), I began to think that farming is the distinguishing factor (occupational favoritism, perhaps). However, this train of logic was refuted by a recent BBC article, which shows a large variety of animals that domesticate other living creatures. Fascinating. Still, it isn’t quite like our systems of agriculture, which perhaps have more of a conscious element. That may be closer to our real answer. What do you think?

Winter Staples: Beans and Slaw

Let me tell you a little bit about winter in Maine. It’s quite chilly. And there can be a lot of snow. (You may have noticed if you live here). Turns out that you can’t grow a whole lot outside in that weather.

Fortunately, you don’t need to. Eliot Coleman, the father of four-season farming in Maine (inspired by Helen and Scott Nearing), has shown us that even unheated hoophouses can supply significant quantities of vegetables throughout the winter. To grow salad mix, you’ll probably need a little heat. But hardier crops? Take that, winter, beaten by a plastic roof.

There are also many vegetables that you can harvest in the fall and store throughout the winter in a root cellar or just a cool spot in your house. I have a large amount of carrots, beets, cabbage, leeks, onions, garlic, turnips, rutabagas, and potatoes either in a box by the door (I figure it’s the coldest spot in my house) or in the fridge. Not too much of your traditional greenery in there (although kale was going strong for a while and I expect to see it again soon) but it turns out that you can still make salads, as well as a number of other vegetable-based delicacies in the winter.

Cole slaw is definitely a type of salad, in case you were wondering.

Throw it in with some beans, maybe a little melted cheese and some spices, and you’ve a meal. This amuses me a little bit because I generally think of beans (baked, I guess) and cole slaw as a Southern dish. Yet here we are, a staple of the Maine winter.

I’ve told you how to make beans before so I won’t get into that.

Winter Slaw
Carrots (1 large one is good for one person)
Beets (1 small one is also good)
1/4-1/2 cabbage, depending on size
A few teaspoons of your favorite vinegar
1/2 tsp mustard
A few (more than the vinegar though) teaspoons olive oil
Salt, pepper, and spices: to go with beans I like cumin, paprika, maybe a little cayenne

Grate the carrots, beets if you are using them, and chop up the cabbage (core, then slice one direction and the other. Cabbage is delightful because you can chop a lot of it in a very short timeframe). In a large bowl, mix together the vinegar and mustard, and salt and pepper. When mustard is more or less dissolved, whisk in the oil. Taste and adjust seasonings. I like slaw dressing to be a little stronger than other salad dressings, especially if it’s going to sit for a little while. Stir in the vegetables and mix well. Let sit for a few minutes before consuming.

Steak II

Hello again! I hope you all passed a pleasant sojourn during the holiday season. I shall now be back in action, with lots to report! I admittedly did not cook as much recently as I do when living by myself, but there remain many items to share.

When in Montana (where my parents live, in case you aren’t following me intensely), eat as Montanans. Which apparently means lots of meat. We had emu meatballs, steak, pâté, goose, roast venison… much less vegetable-based than my ordinary diet, but delicious.

I’ve talked about steak before, so I don’t need to get into it too much, and besides my father actually cooked this anyway. He used the grill, and I believe just rubbed it with a little salt, pepper, and garlic. Delicious, as you can probably imagine. Just make sure not to overcook it—time it carefully, and you can always cut a piece down the middle to see and then grill it more if it isn’t done.

The reason that I am here this time, then, is not to give you a recipe, but to talk about meat. This meat is special, because it is from a Montana whitetail that my father shot.

Many of you probably have read Michael Pollan’s famed account of the wonders of hunting in The Omnivore’s Dilemma. I too was swayed by the descriptions of the primitive thrill and connection to nature that you achieve with the experience. I still have not been hunting, but I have the good fortune to do it vicariously through dear ole Dad. I feel like hunting and foraging (/gathering) are becoming hipster-cool in a back-to-the-earth kind of way, and mostly I think that’s a good thing—connects you to nature and all that. There is a fair point, though, as dictated in a recent Modern Farmer article, that you have to be careful how you do it—foraging can be dangerous and damaging to the ecosystem. This is also the reason we have fish and wildlife departments to manage the capture of wild beasts (I know less about hunting in Maine, and activities like trapping, which we all gained some knowledge of in last election’s referendum).

This particular deer did not have a sensational story attached. My dad went out with our neighbor to a spot they had found a little while ago, hiking through the woods, scouting out, circling around. Finding a meadow, they spotted two deer, making sure they had antlers because they only had male deer tags, and took a shot. The deer fell down then hopped up again, but it had turned around so its rear was facing them, preventing another shot (that would ruin the meat). When it turned again my dad hit it in the head. They took the meat off the bones right there (much easier than carrying out a whole carcass), and packed it out of the woods (a good 70 pound backpack) and home to be processed, vacuum sealed, and frozen to be enjoyed at will.

We had two different cuts of meat: the backsteak, and the tenderloin, which are the most tender cuts, although a very small portion of the meat. My dad likes to process his own meat, because he then knows exactly what he’s getting, and can do it very precisely, removing sinews and packaging it up. We’ve got a meat grinder KitchenAid attachment, and a Food Saver to freeze it. We have a giant chest freezer (as well as an extra stand-up freezer and a second fridge) to keep all the bulk as we gradually use it up (and give it away) throughout the year.

Pull out at will, thaw in the fridge the night before and during the day, then heat up the grill, or the broiler, or a pan and cook until just done, leaving the center beautiful and juicy. Make sure to thank the animal for its life before devouring.

As a side note, when you shoot a deer you have the whole animal to deal with. My dad has made leather from deer hide, and we made two full loaves of pâté with the liver.