In Tamil, India’s most southern state’s language, Poriyal literally means stir-fry. This is a way to prepare any vegetable. The cooking method is fast and flashy. The lentils, mustard seeds and cumin seeds cook in a pool of coconut oil. The onion is added, sizzling and beating in a song of satisfaction. After just a minute you add with an extra bit of heat the onion, garlic, and chili powder. With the flair of a lounge singer, the cabbage is added with yet another turn of heat. No liquid should be allowed to escape and dissipate from the cabbage. Finally, cilantro and lemon juice are tossed into the mix, dessicated coconut finally ending the whole sultry affair.

If cabbage isn’t to become kraut in the sourest of ways, it should become poriyal, crisp and tender at the same time.

Here’s the recipe from the Noon book of authentic Indian cookery:
Heat 5 TB of coconut over low heat, add 1 tsp. urad dal (black gram beans), 1/2 tsp cumin seeds, and 1/2 tsp. mustard seeds. Let crackle for 15 seconds. Add 1/2 of a large onion chopped, stir-fry for 5 minutes. They should be limp but not colored.

Add 2 tsp. chopped ginger, 1 tsp. chopped garlic, 10-12 curry leaves,and 1 finely chopped green chili. Saute for 1 minute. Raise the heat and add 1 shredded, large white cabbage and some salt. Stir-fry until the cabbage is hot but still crisp.

Finally, add 8 TB of dessicated (shredded) coconut, 4 TB of chopped fresh cilantro, and 1 TB of lemon juice. Mix well. Add salt as necessary.

Thanks to my husband for cooking a delicious dinner tonight.
xoxo

This recipe certainly was a bit on the extravagant side for me. Lately I’ve found that I am only interested in two or three ingredient combinations, and they usually contingent upon what currently lives in my fridge. But this, ah this recipe, I couldn’t look wayward from my Joy of Cooking’s description: “A Joy Classic”.

I had all that I needed for this recipe sitting in my cluttered cupboard, and there were fragrant peaches hanging in my fruit basket, causing my mouth to water every quick moment I went in the kitchen. The anticipation of what to do with these soft and sweet Michigan peaches finally won over my fear of commitment involved in pie making. I always fear that devastating moment of the crust pulling apart as you attempt to lay it in the pan after cautiously rolling it out, or the taste not being equivalent to time. But believe me, every moment that I was away from this luxurious yellow beauty, the memory of it balked at me to return. The way this pie melts on your tongue burns your brain with it’s well rounded taste. You want to reward any good or bad events throughout the day or night with a sliver of the pie. It’s mildly obsessive. When the peaches are this good, you want to grasp them in any form before you lose them for the year. And the tandem custard only accents the peaches in a happy spousal manner. It’s especially hard to cope with seasons changing when life makes sense because of a pie. I found the recipe in Joy of Cooking’s index under “peaches” titled modestly, Open Faced Peach Custard Pie.

By definition, a custard involves milk and eggs and is thickened with heat. The thickening of this custard happens in the oven. The pie is only complicated in that there are multiple steps with the crust. The actual filling for the pie is simple. The crust however had me under gauge the total time needed. Now that I understand this, the second go around will be predictable and easier.

So here it is, in all its length, starting with the flaky crust. This recipe in particular calls for one baked flaky crust, however any bottom crust that you bake before adding the filling should work:
Mix
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon white sugar or 1 tablespoon powdered sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup solid vegetable shortening, or 1/2 cup shortening and 8 tablespoons (1 stick) cold unsalted butter
1/3 cup plus 1 to 3 tablespoon ice water, divided
Using a rubber spatula, thoroughly mix flour, sugar, and salt in a large bowl.
Break the shortening into large chunks; if using butter, cut it into small pieces, then add it to the flour mixture. Cut the fat into the dry ingredients by chopping vigorously with a pastry blender or by cutting in opposite directions with 2 knives, one held in each hand. As you work, periodically stir dry flour up from the bottom of the bowl and scrape clinging fat off the pastry blender or knives. When you are through, some of the fat should remain in pea-sized pieces; the rest should be reduced to the consistency of coarse crumbs or cornmeal. The mixture should seem dry and powdery and not pasty or greasy.
Drizzle 1/3 cup plus 1 tablespoon ice water over the flour and fat mixture.
Using the rubber spatula, cut with the blade side until the mixture looks evenly moistened and begins to form small balls. Press down on the dough with the flat side of the spatula. If the balls of dough stick together, you have added enough water; if they do not, drizzle 1 to 2 tablespoons ice water over the top.
Cut in the water, again using the blade of the spatula, then press with your hands until the dough coheres. The dough should look rough, not smooth. Divide the dough in half, press each half into a round fiat disk, and wrap tightly in plastic. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes, and preferably for several hours, or for up to 2 days before rolling. The dough can also be wrapped airtight and frozen for up to 6 months; thaw completely before rolling.
*Note: I actually used the pastry attachment of my food processor for this recipe. It was easy and worked great.

After making the dough, proceed by rolling out the dough and fitting it into a 9-inch pie pan. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes. Position a rack in the lower 1/3 of the oven and preheat to 400 degrees.
Smooth a sheet of aluminum foil, shiny side down, over the bottom and sides of the crust, flaring the excess foil, like an awning, over the crust edge to keep it from overbrowning. Fill the liner with raw beans or rice or metal pie weights, banking the weights against the sides of the crust if you do not have enough to fill the crust to the brim. Bake the crust for 20 minutes with the weights in place to set the pastry. Carefully lift out the foil with the weights inside. Prick the crust thoroughly with a fork, return it to the oven, and bake until the crust is golden brown all over, 5 to 10 minutes more. Check the crust periodically; if it puffs along the bottom, prick it with a fork, then press down gently with the back of a spoon. Brush the inside with 1 large egg yolk and a pinch of salt. Return to the oven to set the glaze for 1 to 2 minutes. Fill the shell with the below filling recipe.

Here’s the filling:
Keep the rack of your oven on the lower 1/3 and the temperature set at 400. Whisk together until well blended:
1 large egg
3/4 cup sugar
6 TB unsalted and melted butter
1/3 cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/4 teaspoon salt

Arrange in a single layer, cut side down, over the bottom of the crust: 3 to 4 fresh peaches, peeled and halved.
Pour the egg mixture over the peaches. Bake the pie for 10 minutes. reduce the temperature to 300 degrees and bake until the custard is brown and crusty on top and appears firmly set in the center when the pan is shaken, about 1 hour longer. Let cool on a rack. Serve warm or at room temperature.

I did find that my crust browned too much originally, and that it continued to brown even with the glaze. I think next time I would probably wrap the edge of the crust with aluminum foil, and butter the sides of my pie pan to keep the pastry from sticking.

The Joy of Cooking never fails.

We grew these in our backyard garden of weeds. They are absolutely delicious- nutty and sweet. Last night for dinner we cleaned out the fridge, foraging red peppers, red onions, parsley, lemon, green beans, and these carrots. A savory couscous was in store, accompanied by homemade yogurt and pita from the mediterranean bakery down the street. We also steamed the homegrown carrots and beans, then tossed them with chervil and butter. The picture below is the meal recreated for lunch today. The taboule salad is on a bed of greens with a touch of balsamic and dijon mustard, raw broccoli, and an egg hard boiled.

Taboule Salad
About 1 and 1/4 cup dry couscous, mixed with 1/2 cup boiling water. Add about 1/3 of a cup extra virgin olive oil, 1/3 of a cup lemon juice and stir completely. Cover the mixture and let sit for about 5 minutes. Fluff the whole batch with a fork. Add any fresh things in your fridge. Try bell pepper, tomato, carrot, onion, celery, even fennel, but to be somewhat authentic you must add at least 4TB of chopped parsley. You won’t even need to add S&P- at least we didn’t. Toss lightly and refrigerate for a bit for all the flavors to meld and set. Fluff before serving.

Oh, and the jar in the background is pickled beans and zucchini with basil. That recipe will come soon.

The day started at 10am. Any Saturday where I actually untangle myself from the cozy blankets and greet the day before noon is almost rare, to say the least. Josh left for a gallery meeting downtown around 9am and I woke up completely on my own at 9:45. I padded down the stairs, poured myself as black a cup of coffee I could find, and sat down with my partially glazed eyes to browse through email. A friend of mine sent a mass invitation to pick blueberries and then head to the lake in the afternoon. I thought the idea was glorious. Thus, I surmised my strategy for the day. The goal was to meet Josh downtown before he started heading home after his meeting. First, we needed to head to market and pick up ingredients for both pickling and a couple days worth of food. Second, we would head to the blueberry farm about 15 miles west and pick these clusters of berries until our mouths were stained blue. And third, we would find our way to the most beautiful lake in Michigan, a retreat with no motor boats allowed. So I made my piles of needed materials and supplies for blueberry picking, farmer’s market, and the lake. After some strategic backpack packing, I pedaled away on my bicycle, reaching downtown sweaty faced and alive before it was even noon.

We were able to pick up more pickling cucumbers, swiss chard, peaches, eggs, scallions, new potatoes, shallots, dill, and cherries. We packed these in coolers and, as planned, headed to the blueberry farm. We picked blueberries until our stomaches screamed of fullness and we forfeited our battle with the mosquitos. You can see from the pictures that this was very serious business. Then we wound our way through a few little curious Michigan towns, eventually finding the much needed respite of the lake. The water was unusually choppy, the small beach a bit full of people, but it was oh so refreshing.

We made it home and in bed for a nap at 6:45pm. I guess the “early” morning had me slightly worn out. We didn’t rise from our evening nap until 9:15. At that point, we had to shift into high gear in order to finish the list of tasks for the day. We wanted to harvest swiss chard from our garden to make a Chard Gratin, make a homemade pesto with basil from the garden, eat dinner, and make these pickles that I’ve been obsessed with fermenting. And we did it. All of it.

The chard recipe is from Alice Waters cookbook, The Art of Simple Food, but I was made aware of it on the great food blog The Wednesday Chef. She has the recipe outlined on her blog, so if you want to try it you’ll find it there.

The dish was simple to make and a perfect use of many ingredients that needed to be used in our kitchen. We were able to use bread that was a couple days old and dry, milk that was set to expire, and chard from the garden that was patchworked from bugs feasting on it’s leaves. This dish will jive with any Sunday brunch or early afternoon meal. I can’t wait to heat it up again for our Sunday lunch.

Okay, so things got a little hairy last week. We did juice, and we did fast, but I won’t lie: the fasting lasted 24 hours. The juicing, however, lives on!

Monday was a day off of work for me, so we started the fasting the night prior at 7pm, knowing that we would have the time then to start juicing immediately in the morning and throughout the day with little interruption. That morning was actually a tad bit frantic as I rushed about town, my stomach proclaiming its resent, collecting a myriad of fruits and veggies. My heart beat strange and insecure as I bought oranges, lemons, limes, bananas, greens, cucumbers, etc. I tend to avoid non-local, non-seasonal, non-organic produce and this shopping venture shamed me slightly. But the juicing mission had begun and I hadn’t yet had my juice breakfast! I had to bite the bullet and heave products from California, Mexico, and Argentina in my ever expanding cart, ignoring the moral cues that taunted me.

My good friend Michelle had agreed to be in on this juicing extravaganza and was going to supply the juicer. So with fruits and veggies in tow, and my obnoxious receipt in hand, I called her to let her know that I was on my way over. Three times I called her, but to no avail. Her sleepy head would not budge. So I decided that Josh and I were on our own with this one. Next to the store whose heat bill I probably just paid for with my hefty bill was a KMart. Uh oh. Talk about moral obligations. I haven’t been in a KMart or Wal-Mart for 3 years. But I was having the inner turmoil of my conscience and my stomach. And not surprisingly, my stomach won out. I bought a juicer that was made in China.

When I got home, Josh and I juiced. Watching Josh with that first glass, his nose recoiling in contempt of taste, had me worried. Had our three person fast become me alone? But Josh kept with it, religiously squinting his eyes and shaking his head as he downed the multiple concoctions and combinations of all his not-so favorite foods.

You’d think that all the calories we consumed throughout the day would have us full and satisfied. But it seemed that this juice created new empty voids throughout our system. We were starving to the point of moodiness and a threatening lack of motivation for the remaining tasks of the day. At some point I called Michelle to whine and she somehow rationalized with me that we should go eat Thai food and be happy that we made it 24 hours. So that’s what we did. It was phenomenal. Ah, the art of cooked vegetables in coconut milk, particularly on a day where your mind is consumed with thoughts of food (or lack thereof).

The rest of the week gradually became less fast-like, but still reminiscent of our new juicing knowledge. Tuesday was primarily juice but also unjuiced fruits and veggies, Wednesday we had brown rice, and then on and on…

I’m so happy to have a juicer, even if it is from China, and so happy to have experimented with a bunch of recipes. Here are a few of our favorite combos:

Apples (6 of them), Beet (one large), Limes (two juiced separately)

Carrots, apples, beet, parsley

Carrot, cucumber, celery, spinach

Carrot, apple, orange, ginger

Pineapple, carrot, orange, watermelon, cranberry (pre-bought juice)

Pineapple, grapefruit, parsley, spinach, watermelon, beet greens

There are multiple thoughts that spun from this one single day of fasting/week of juicing. Hopefully those thoughts don’t dissipate before I have a chance to write them. But in the meantime, I can definitely recommend juicing! If not for how good it feels, for the change in complexion it can bring. Friends were shocked at my healthy color this week. I think I turned orange from all the beta carotene.