Condimental

The home pickling, brewing, baking and preserving rage that has swept the country (or at least Brooklyn) in recent years has brought a new appreciation for kimchi, a spicy tangle of fermented vegetables that appears on the table at every meal in Korea, where kimchi is almost a religion. Its complex pungency comes from a colorful mix of garlic, chile, salted shrimp, fish sauce, ginger and scallions—and from an aging process that leaves the components tender yet crunchy. Brined and then fermented, the vegetables' sugars convert into lactic and acetic acids and carbon dioxide. The result is magical and, ultimately, can be as stinky and rich as a ripe cheese.

To learn more about the process of fermentation, I highly recommend one (or both) of Sandor Katz's books: The Art of Fermentation and Wild Fermentation. To learn more about the age-old art of making kimchi, read on.
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Now these are baby carrots. Scarcely wider than a gentleman's ring finger and half again as long. Look for them at your farmers market and for bunches of hot pink French breakfast radishes. Munch on them raw for a sweet, crunchy snack, or roast them together for a light seasonal meal. And if your carrots have vibrant bushy greens attached? Do not toss them into the trash, nor even the compost pile. Turn them into an earthy pesto and enjoy the thrill of vegetarian nose-to-tail cooking.
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As I write this, it's another grey, drizzly day outside and the world is glowing with a jade-green intensity that is almost unsettling. The chartreuse hues of early spring are seductive. The lilac is blooming, sending out its sweet perfume. The columbines are about to unfurl their showy blossoms. The early morning birdsong is loud enough to wake the dead. Yesterday I dug into the damp earth and planted lavender, rosemary, lemon verbena and my beloved scented geraniums. Also a few purple-striped jack-in-the-pulpit, trillium and bloodroot that were carefully and respectfully foraged from a nearby woodland. Time in the garden is precious as I have been inundated with client work. It's also kept me from the kitchen and from you, dearest readers. I've got a new recipe for you, though it's nothing fancy. Just something simple and practical that has become a popular staple in our house.
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I have a confession: I've never found a ramp in the wild. Embarrassing but true. Over the years, my foraging has turned up many prized mushrooms and choice plants, but the wild leek has remained elusive (as has the much-coveted morel). I am determined that this will be the year. In future, though, I won't have to leave it to chance. Because my crafty husband planted masses of Allium tricoccum in a shady cornder of our garden! The first patch, planted last year, came up successfully, so we planted another one last week. You're supposed to leave them mostly undisturbed for several years, allowing them to get established and really proliferate. But I've already taken a single leaf here or there. I've also bought ramps at the farmers market, where ramp frenzy is in full swing. Quite a few vendors are now selling only the leaves, because ramps have been over-harvested in many areas due to unsustainable practices. The trick is to leave at least as many bulbs behind as you take.
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Spring has sprung. Out my window, however, winter is still having a party. A thick layer of snow covers any tentative signs of growth, making me doubly glad that we're headed to Antigua. Sun, sand and surf? Yes, please. In the week before I go on vacation, deadlines are piled precariously high and the to-do list stretches to the horizon. But, come Saturday, I will be on that plane. In the meantime, a short but very savory post for you about the glories of making your own cheese powder. Nacho Libre, indeed.
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Are you eating your vegetables? It's becoming quite trendy to eschew meat at the center of your plate. This style of eating has long been embraced in Asia and out of necessity in many poorer countries. In fact, it's not so dissimilar from the Mediterranean diet, which was endorsed yet again in a study released last week. It's really no big news that a vegecentric diet is the way to go, as evinced by this 1819 quote from Thomas Jefferson: I have lived temperately, eating little animal food, and that not as an aliment, so much as a condiment for the vegetables which constitute my principal diet.

I love the notion of animal products as a condiment and often use them this way in my cooking. Small amounts of highly flavored meat or fish—smoky pork, spicy sausage, salty fish roe, pungent anchovies—add just the right hit of umami to salads, pastas and vegetables, raw or cooked. Look to what some of the more ingenious chefs are doing for ideas on vegetables dishes with heft. Consider the oven-roasted slab of broccoli I had at The NoMad. Daniel Humm made it the star, with a little bacon to keep things interesting. This cauliflower dish is from Dan Barber, who never met a vegetable he didn't like.
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The trick to tear-free slicing? A very sharp knife and good skills. Shallots are a bit less pungent than their humbler relative, but the value of a good sharp knife cannot be overrated when it comes to virtually any repetitive cutting task. I never tire of using shallots in my cooking. They create a deep, slightly sweet flavor base and become soft and velvety much quicker than onions. They're also delicious raw, adding a mild bite to salad dressings and slaws. A quick soak in ice water first diminshes their intensity somewhat. But perhaps my favorite way to eat them—fried—is inspired by Southeast Asian cuisine, where the shallot runs rampant. They make an addictively crunchy topping to everything from rice and noodles to soups and salads. What you may not know is that you can fry up a mass of them and, once cooled, store them in a sealed glass jar, where they will remain crisp for quite a while.
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I heard Nigel Slater on the radio the other week saying that at this time of year all he wants is the food equivalent of a big, cozy blanket. You know the English love nothing better than what they so quaintly call "cauliflower cheese," and right now I can't really argue with them. I've been cooking from my favorite of Daniel Boulud's many excellent books, Braise, which offers flavorful, falling-off-the-bone one-dish meals that are a brilliant antidote to the mid-winter culinary blahs. But I still crave some light, bright flavors—the citrus and seafood that stand in stark juxtaposition to all those long-simmered shanks and stews—and I've found inspiration in Hugh Acheson's A New Turn in the South, which came out in the fall of 2011. His cooking has been described as bold, eclectic and sophisticated and I can't argue with that either.
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New year. New you? Probably not. The same you, with fresh intentions, perhaps. If you didn't read Frank Bruni's recent piece, now would be a good time to do so. It's about what he calls "these wretched vessels," the bodies we are so actively engaged in criticizing at every step of the journey, but especially at the new year when we all resolve to whittle away at them. Here's what he proposes: We should make peace with them and remain conscious of that, especially at this particular hinge of the calendar, when we compose a litany of promises about the better selves ahead, foolishly defining those selves in terms of what’s measurable from the outside, instead of what glimmers within. Though I couldn't agree more that losing ten pounds will not make you a better person, it's only natural to want a little palate cleanser after all that holiday eggnog and gingerbread and short ribs and chocolate. Something cool and frothy, vegetal and light. Or straight from the sea, saline and frigid. So I can't actually say that getting G one of these as a stocking stuffer was completely without guile.
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It's the winter solstice today. 12.21.12 is a date that's been the subject of much speculation. Apparently, the ancient Mayans predicted that this day would mark the end of our age— but must this really be interpreted as meaning the end of the world? I choose to believe the highly intriguing theory that this is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius! On this day, our sun and the earth cross the Milky Way galactic plane, an event that occurs once every 26,000 years. The axis of rotation of the Earth does not remain constant but wobbles in the same way that a spinning top does. This wobble has a rotation period of around 26,000 years. For a period of approximately 2,000 years, the earth's rotational axis, or north-south pole, points to a different constellation in the sky, each one corresponding to a sign of the zodiac. After 26,000 years the whole zodiac is traversed. So we are about to transition from the Age of Pisces to the Age of Aquarius. And with it comes greater freedom, equality, cooperation, collaboration and global consciousness. Reason will prevail over emotional reactions. We should prepare for greatness. As an Aquarian, I am elated to be living through this time. I think it calls for a celebration.
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