Broccoli and Chickpea Salad

As I mentioned before, the late summer jewels some people call tomatoes (and others call to-mah-tos) were delayed in this cool summer. Farmers are smart people, however, and those in charge of our CSA planted some more of the great cooler-weather crops for us to snack on while waiting. So, we’ve been enjoying an unusual, but welcome crop of lettuce heads and mixed salad greens (time to break out the salad dressing recipes again), radishes, and broccoli.

I was thinking I could make Sweet and Tart Broccoli Salad yet again, or maybe an old-stand-by stir fry, but I happened across another recipe for a different kind of broccoli salad that intrigued me. (With the amount of time I spend perusing recipes, the odds are actually in favor of me finding a new recipe with ingredients I have on hand just when I need one.) I changed a few things, and, admittedly, added a fancy step or two. I’m sure you could streamline this recipe if you wanted to. You’re good like that.

This recipe uses both broccoli florets and stems. Often, the stems are pretty tough and bitter on the outside, but that’s just hiding its crunchy deliciousness, which you really don’t want to waste. You could use a vegetable peeler on the stems, but I find them a bit rugged for that and go after them with a chef’s knife and a pretty heavy hand.





Usually, I don’t bother blanching broccoli for salads, preferring it just as it was born, but in this case, I like it less crunchy. The texture of the partially-cooked broccoli goes well with the tender chickpeas. I also thought crumbled rather than grated or shredded Parmesan cheese would complement those textures better. (And I think I was right!). And there’s still some nice contrasting crunch from the celery and onion.

To crumble the cheese, you’ll first need a block of it. Parmigiano-Reggiano really is best, and you may notice the difference it makes in this salad. It is also expensive, as you may know. I personally think it’s worth fitting into my budget, but use what you like. (Although I can’t say I recommend the stuff in the green can.) To crumble the cheese, I stab a chef’s knife into a spot near an edge, and sort of twist it. The texture of the cheese allows it to crumble off the block. You could chop it as well, but I like the rustic, irregular pieces.



Toasting and grinding whole mustard seeds and peppercorns just added a bit more flair to this salad. You could use dry mustard powder and ground pepper, but I did really like the way this salad tasted. Maybe it was my imagination, but the seasoning just seemed more fresh, less canned, subtle but high-quality. Of course, I haven’t tested it with mustard powder, so I could just be tasting my own high hopes. Anyway, since I’m back to eating broccoli, I’m happy to have this salad in my repertoire.

Broccoli and Chickpea Salad with Mustard-Pepper Dressing
based on a recipe in Soup Makes the Meal by Ken Haedrich (via The Best American Recipes 2002-2003)

6 ounces plain yogurt
1 large head of broccoli
salt
a large bowl of ice water
½ teaspoon yellow mustard seeds
½ teaspoon brown mustard seeds
½ teaspoon whole peppercorns
½ cup mayonnaise
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
2 tablespoons chopped fresh tarragon
1 ½ tablespoons Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon sherry or white wine vinegar
1 16-ounce can chickpeas (garbanzo beans), drained and rinsed
1 rib of celery, finely chopped
½ cup finely chopped red onion
¼ cup crumbled chunks Parmesan cheese (preferably Parmigiano-Reggiano)

1. Place the yogurt in a sieve lined with a paper towel or several layers of cheese cloth. Allow the yogurt to drain and thicken at least two hours. Refrigerate if draining longer. If you are using thick, Greek-style yogurt, you can skip this step. Scrape the drained yogurt into a large bowl.

2. Chop the broccoli into florets in bite-sized pieces. Peel and chop the stems. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Add a small handful of salt. Add the broccoli and cook for 3-4 minutes. The broccoli should be tender, but not mushy.

3. Remove the broccoli with a slotted spoon and plunge it directly into the ice water to stop the cooking. When the broccoli has cooled, drain and chill until needed.

4. Place the mustard seeds and peppercorns in a small skillet over medium-low heat. Toast them until fragrant, being very careful not to burn them. Set aside to cool. Finely grind the toasted spices in a spice grinder, coffee grinder, or blender.

5. Add the ground spices, mayonnaise, parsley, tarragon, Dijon mustard, and sherry vinegar to the yogurt. Stir well to combine. Add the chilled broccoli, draining off any remaining water. Add the chickpeas, celery, red onion and Parmesan. Stir well to combine.

Makes 6-8 servings.

To-may-to, To-mah-to: Gazpacho Soup

If you’re in a debate over how to pronounce the word tomato, I have a simple solution for you: Call the whole thing off and give all of your tomatoes to me!

It’s safe to say I love tomatoes, but only good ones. I rarely even buy them in the supermarket anymore, preferring to wait out the grainy, bullet-proof, tomato-like fruit season, long as it is, for mid to late summer when I can sink my teeth into really great, vine-ripened, voluptuous darlings, especially the endless variety of heirlooms, that were grown only a few miles away. (It’s even better when I can visit someone’s garden and eat them in while still standing among the vines.)



This year, however, has been a special test of my patience. We have had a cool summer in southeastern Minnesota (and much of the rest of the upper Midwest). Tomatoes need the hot summer sun to ripen and turn red, orange, or gold, and the local ones were significantly delayed. Luckily, I had plenty of other great vegetables to keep me company until the object of my secret love affair could arrive. (Okay, so it’s not a secret anymore.)

The first thing I do when I get a great tomato, is make a sandwich. I’ve been eating these since I was a kid. Though I used to have them on toasted store-bought white bread and just a bit of Miracle Whip, I’ve since graduated to homemade breads, like this one, real mayonnaise (sometimes even homemade!), and often a few sprinkles of thinly sliced basil leaves or even a bit of pesto mixed with the mayo. This is the best do-nothing food in the world, and I can’t think of anything that I’ve been eating or fixing for myself for so long. (Adding bacon and lettuce is just great as long as you have the patience to delay your tomato satisfaction while cooking the bacon.)

The second thing I do when the tomatoes come in is make gazpacho soup, especially since bell peppers, chile peppers, cucumbers and fresh onions are in season at the same time.

Now let me make myself clear to all you purists and aficionados of Spanish cuisine. What I make may not really be gazpacho. I don’t put bread in mine, and I realize that no self-respecting tapas bar would serve such a thing, but I’m okay with that. I like it to be about the vegetables. I also do not strain out the pulpy bits. I don’t have a problem with chewing my cold soups (I also leave some of the vegetables in chunks rather than pureed), and it seems such a waste to throw out all that dietary fiber. (Really, what’s the point of eating your vegetables if you have to chase them with bran muffins or a dose of Metamucil?)

Much like when I make cold cucumber soup (there are striking similarities between these recipes), I don’t peel the cukes when they are organic or I know the skin has been left alone. I do remove the large seeds, though. I also remove most of the seeds from the tomatoes, but I don’t get too meticulous about that.

I used a Hungarian Hot Wax pepper in my soup, but you can use whatever kind of chile pepper you like, or leave it out if you don’t care for the extra spice. The Hungarians just happened to be on the table next to the tomatoes and peppers when I started making the gazpacho, so I went with convenience. Besides, that added another vegetable from the CSA box. This meant that only the garlic, olive oil, and lime were not grown nearby. Now if only they could grow olives and limes in Minnesota…

Since I purchased a ten-pound box of heirloom tomatoes in addition to those that come with our regular weekly delivery, I have a lot of tomatoes to eat. Gluttony and greed may be deadly sins, but I think they get cancelled out when the object is as healthy and holy as fresh, ripe tomatoes. I wonder what the third thing I make with tomatoes should be...


GazpachoThis whole recipe doesn’t quite fit in a standard food processor bowl, so it is best to puree it in batches. (I tend to remember this only after making a big mess.)
1 pound cucumbers, seeded (peeled if desired)
1 small bell pepper (any color will do)
¾ cup chopped red onion
2 lbs ripe tomatoes
1 chile pepper of your choice, seeded
3 Tbs fresh lime juice
3 Tbs extravirgin olive oil
1 tsp coarse Kosher salt or to taste
2 large cloves garlic


1. Finely chop half of 1 cucumber, half of the pepper, and ¼ cup of the red onion. Place in a large bowl.

2. Coarsely chop the remaining cucumbers, pepper and onion. Coarsely chop and remove the seeds from the tomatoes. Place the chopped cucumbers, peppers, onions, tomatoes and the remaining ingredients in the bowl of a food processor. Process in batches until smooth.

3. Pour into the bowl with the chopped vegetables. Cover and chill as long as you can, at least 2 hours. It should be as cold as possible. Before serving, stir well and taste the soup for salt, adding more if necessary. You can also garnish each serving with diced examples of what is in the soup.

Makes about 5-6 servings.

The Volunteers: Pasta with Cherry Tomatoes

No, this is not a post about my in-laws from the state of Tennessee. The volunteers I’m talking about are the cherry tomato plants that came up on their own initiative in one of my pots and amongst the grass near our back patio.

Last year, I had two cherry tomato plants sharing space with my herbs. One was a yellow pear tomato plant (delicious) and the other was a Sweet 100, so named for its tendency to produce a lot of little tomatoes. The Sweet 100s were indeed sweet and appropriately prolific. They had a tendency to split open and mold before they were completely ripe, however, and many of them ended their lives on the ground or in the dirt of their home container rather than in a tasty dish. It is the seeds of these sacrificial fruits that have so boldly sprouted in hope of volunteering their services this year.



One of these plants is a little larger and pretty strong, but it is only just blossoming now. At this rate, we will probably have snow on our patio before we have ripe cherry tomatoes. Until then, I’ll have to make do with the beautiful, sweet, succulent Sun Gold cherry tomatoes we’ve been getting in our CSA boxes. How will I ever bear it?



When I have good cherry tomatoes available, I like to make this simple dish. It is bursting with strong flavors: raw garlic, capers, olives, fresh basil, and hot pepper. It’s a lot of punch for a little effort. Measuring ingredients accurately for this dish is of almost no importance. The amounts in the recipe are more like guidelines. Use what you have. I’ve even found that it doesn’t really matter what kind of olives I use, though I usually like to use Kalamatas.

Fresh basil really is essential, but this time of year, you really should be able to get some at farmers markets. Or from a friend who always plants too much basil…like me.




Pasta with Cherry Tomatoes, Olives, and Basil
adapted from Cooking Light magazine
If your olives and capers are especially salty, you might want to cut back on the added salt.
½ pound farfalle (bow tie) pasta
1 pint cherry tomatoes, cut in half
1/3 cup thinly sliced fresh basil
1/2 cup chopped pitted olives, such as kalamata olives
2 Tbs capers, coarsely chopped
2 Tbs extra-virgin olive oil
¾ tsp salt
½ tsp crushed red pepper flakes
½ tsp freshly ground black pepper
2 garlic cloves, minced

1. Cook past in boiling, salted water until al dente (mostly tender, but with a little firmness left to the bite). Drain and pour into a large bowl.

2. Add the remaining ingredients to the hot pasta and toss well.
Makes 4 servings

Summer Squash Casserole

I spy something that begins with the letter M. That’s right. More zucchini. Last year our CSA had relatively few zucchini to offer due to a shortage of pollinating bugs, especially bees. Well, they must have done something right this year, because the zucchini are back with a vengeance.




Oh, but it’s not just zucchini. There are other summer squash varieties as well. We have little yellow patty-pan squash that are just so cute, I wish they had cheeks to pinch. And there are the pretty yellow crooked-neck squash. Both of these perform similarly to zucchini in dishes (if not in the garden), and I tend to use them interchangeably. The patty-pans are a little more firm and their skin is less delicate than the zucchini or yellow squash, but if you shred them as I did in this summer squash casserole, those differences don’t seem to matter.

This casserole is a bit decadent, what with the heavy cream and the buttery breadcrumb topping. It reminds me of the fabulous yellow squash casserole my sister in-law makes. That one is further gilded with a topping of Cheez-It crackers. (She gave me the recipe once, but I promptly lost it. My apron is not the only think in my life that’s a bit messy.)

I use the shredding blade on my food processor to grate the squash, but you could use a box grater if that’s more readily available (and you’re made of stronger, more patient stuff than I am). I also used the food processor to make the breadcrumbs for the topping, although I used the regular processing blade for that. I recommend making your own breadcrumbs out of extra bread that you may have that is past its prime. Most breads will do, if they aren’t too sweet or have too many chunky bits mixed in. I often end up using leftover homemade whole wheat sandwich bread, but when I made this squash casserole, I used some store-bought white bread that had over-stayed its welcome. (Does this stuff never go bad?)

As long as the bread isn’t too fresh, it can simply be torn or cut into coarse pieces (I don’t bother to remove the crust) and ground up in the food processor. You can pick and pull apart really dry bread with your fingers or a knife if you don’t have a food processor. (I found this to be easy to do while talking on the phone.) I freeze what I don’t use right away in a zip-top freezer bag.

I used basil in this dish because I happen to have a lot of it in my porch garden right now. Other herbs, such as mint, parsley, chives, sage, and thyme would be good as well. I could also see other vegetables making a fine contribution, such as shredded carrot or fresh sweet corn…and maybe some Cheez-Its on top.

Summer Squash Casserole with Basil and Onion

1 pound summer squash (zucchini, yellow crooked-neck, patty pan, or a mixture)
½ of a medium yellow onion
1 teaspoon coarse (kosher) salt
½ cup chopped fresh basil
½ cup grated Parmesan cheese
2 cloves minced garlic
¾ cup heavy cream
1 cup fresh breadcrumbs
2 tablespoons butter

1. Grate the squash and onion using the shredding blade of a food processor or by hand with a box grater (largest holes).

2. Toss the grated squash and onion with the salt in a colander. Allow to stand and drain in the sink for 30 minutes.

3. Preheat the oven to 400 F. Spin the squash mixture dry in a salad spinner, or lay it out on a clean towel and pat dry.

4. In a large bowl, mix the drained squash mixture with the basil, Parmesan and garlic. Grease a 2 quart casserole dish and pour the squash mixture in. Pour the heavy cream evenly over the squash mixture.

5. Melt the butter and toss the breadcrumbs with the melted butter until completely moistened. Spread the breadcrumb mixture evenly over the squash mixture.

6. Bake at 400F for 25-30 minutes or until the topping is well browned and the cream has been absorbed.

Makes 4 main dish servings, 6-8 side dish servings.