Cauli-flavor

Cauliflower isn’t always an easy sell. It doesn’t have a whole lot of flavor on its own and usually gets dipped in something creamy or covered in a cheese sauce, at least in this part of the country (or in my family, anyway). Since I’d usually been presented with it boiled into an unappealing mush, I’ve always preferred it raw. Relatively recently, however, I’ve learned that cauliflower is quite nice when roasted. It’s still mild in flavor, but it browns and caramelizes, developing a touch of sweetness and getting a little nutty. (Sound like anyone you know?)

I’ve been tossing cauliflower into pans of Roasted Vegetables, usually in the fall and winter when I have lots of root vegetables and winter squash to roast. I came across a recipe in a recent issue of Cooking Light magazine, however, that was a little different. I just had to see the photo of the dish to know I was going to make some version of it, and soon. As I mentioned in the previous post, as things progressed, I ended up changing a recipe for turkey salad just to make it “go” a little better with this one.


This recipe combines cauliflower with chickpeas and green olives, and punches it all up with lots of garlic, olive oil and crushed red pepper flakes. The whole lot is roasted until the cauliflower gets mostly tender, the chickpeas get a little toasty and chewy, and the whole place smells like roasted garlic. The hot pepper is noticeable, but not fiery. You could leave it out if you don’t like spicy food. The warm olives are a nice surprise. I like their tart, brininess amidst the milder cauliflower and chickpeas. Lemon juice and parsley, stirred in after roasting, just brighten up the dish even more.

I can imagine some potentially interesting variations of this recipe (kalamata olives, sun dried tomatoes, different fresh herbs), and I now know from experience that it’s worth working a meal around this roasted side dish. I also heated the leftovers and served them as a sandwich in pita bread. The combination of the chickpeas and the wheat in the bread should create a complete protein so, ta-da!, I’ve just declared this a light main dish as well!



Roasted Cauliflower, Chickpeas and Olives
Based on a recipe in Cooking Light magazine

1 medium cauliflower, about 1-1 ¼ pounds, cut into florets
½ cup pimiento-stuffed green olives
6 garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
1 (16-ounce) can chickpeas, rinsed and drained
3 tablespoons olive oil
½ teaspoon red pepper flakes
½ teaspoon coarse salt
1 tablespoon lemon juice
½ cup minced parsley

1. Preheat the oven to 450 F. Place the cauliflower florets, olives, garlic and chickpeas in a roasting pan.

2. Add the olive oil, salt and pepper and toss to coat well (I used my hands).

3. Bake at 450 F for about 25 minutes or until the cauliflower is beginning to brown. Stir occasionally. The cauliflower will not be completely tender, but will still have a bit of crispness to it.

4. Remove from the oven. Drizzle with lemon juice and add the parsley. Stir to combine well.

Makes about 4 servings.

Making it Match

It has become that bad. I now lay awake at night trying to figure out how to make two dishes using ingredients that have been languishing in the freezer or have gone a bit past their prime into a cohesive menu with flavors that don’t clash, but compliment each other. As if there isn’t enough in this crazy world to worry about.

You see, it all started with the turkey tenderloin I’ve had in the freezer since late December. Now that the warmer weather allows for cooler main courses, I planned to make a turkey salad with curry powder, grapes and cashews. The thing is, I also wanted to use up a cauliflower that I had bought more than a week ago. (It was starting to get a few brownish spots. Don’t worry, they didn’t kill me.) I had a great-looking recipe for roasted cauliflower with chickpeas and olives that I wanted to try. I just didn’t think these two recipes would “go” together as well as I wanted and was planning to make them for separate meals. I needed to use up those ingredients, though, and wanted to do it soon.

I tried to think of a way to curry up the cauliflower dish, but just adding curry powder to everything seemed so inelegant (yes, I worry about these things.) And so I was lying awake, agitated about these dishes as if the world would somehow be a better place if I figured this out. Well, duh, it finally occurred to me that I could change the turkey salad just as easily as the cauliflower dish and the day was saved.

The roasted cauliflower dish (I hope to post that recipe soon) has chickpeas and lots of garlic and green olives. This made me think of Spanish flavors which translated into sherry vinegar, red bell peppers and smoked paprika for the turkey salad, since those were ingredients I had on hand. For crunch, I wanted to replace the cashews in the original recipe with almonds, but all I had were smokehouse almonds. These turned out to be a great match with the smoked paprika.

This all might not take you directly to Spain, especially as a turkey salad served in pita bread, but it tastes good, and that’s the whole point anyway. Oh yeah, and it matched well with the cauliflower dish.

Turkey Salad with Sherry Vinegar and Smoked Paprika
Based on a recipe in Cooking Light magazine.

I roasted a turkey breast tenderloin with salt, pepper and olive oil at 350 F for about 40 minutes, or to an internal temperature of 165 F. I then covered it with foil for about 10 minutes (to finish cooking), removed the foil, let the turkey cool and shredded it.

There’s absolutely no reason that I can see why you couldn’t use chicken instead of turkey to make this salad.

¼ cup sour cream
¼ cup mayonnaise
1 tablespoon sherry vinegar
1 tablespoon honey
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
½ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 cups cooked turkey breast, shredded or chopped
½ cup finely chopped red bell pepper
½ cup finely chopped celery
¼ cup finely chopped red onion
¼ cup chopped smoked (or “smokehouse”) almonds
2 tablespoons minced parsley

1. In a large bowl, combine the sour cream, mayonnaise, sherry vinegar, honey, smoked paprika, salt, and pepper. Whisk to combine.

2. Add the remaining ingredients and mix well. Taste and adjust seasonings if desired. Cover and chill until ready to serve. Serve on a bed of lettuce or on bread or in a pita as a sandwich.

Makes about 4 servings.

Spring Cleaning

Now that it’s spring (or so my Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog calendar insists) I’m increasingly tempted to cheat. Not on my taxes or on my diet (such as it is) or even at Ticket to Ride or Small World. No, instead my eyes gaze longingly at the covers of current cooking magazines and wander through the produce section of the markets. There are new things there. Pretty green things. I want to cheat on the perfectly good locally-grown foods waiting for me at home, just because they’re a little out of season.

Root vegetables and frozen corn and squash have been sitting, uncomplaining and obedient in our freezer and root cellar. Okay, so it’s not really a root cellar, just the bottom shelf of the refrigerator, but many things have kept surprisingly well there all winter. (Except for beets. Beets don’t keep. They lurk.) Despite the temptations of the flirty new spring vegetables, I manage to stay strong. There’s a lot left to enjoy before I break down and buy some asparagus that’s been trucked, flown or shipped in from Mexico, Chile, the Emerald City, or wherever things are green this time of year.

Soup seems to be a good catch-all for whatever is left, no matter what the season. It also still offers some hearty comfort when the days aren’t quite as warm as they look, or spring rains (and melts) threaten to drown your spirit (or your basement). I recently made a good soup with celeriac (aka celery root) which was waiting faithfully to be utilized, and some of the wild rice I had frozen after cooking up a bunch to make this salad.

As I was making this soup, I had The Barefoot Contessa on the TV in the other room. Ina Garten just happened to be making a celeriac remoulade and was speaking of the affinity of the celeriac for mustard. Not one to turn up my nose at such a piece of culinary serendipity, I added some dry mustard to the soup. I was thrilled by the flavor of the final product (I thrill pretty easily, I guess), and I think the mustard made the soup go even better with the Dark Rye Bread I served alongside it.

This is a pretty simple soup. To make a thicker base, I pureed half of it using an immersion blender. (It splattered quite a bit, but that’s what the apron is for!) You could also use a regular blender. Just be careful when pureeing the hot soup. I find it works well to remove the little insert in the top of the blender lid and cover the resulting opening with a folded-up towel while blending. This seems to help keep explosions to a minimum. (The apron can only do so much.)

As I clean out my refrigerator, freezer and cupboards (there’s plenty of stocked-up dried beans and grains, too), I’ll try not to post much that really clashes with the spring season (pumpkin pie for Easter, anyone?) If you’re really eager for springtime fare, I’ve added a new link to the sidebar titled “Favorite Spring Recipes.” It will take you to another set of links to Messy Apron posts containing some of my favorite spring recipes. Happy Spring, whatever you’re eating!

Celeriac, Potato and Wild Rice Soup
Based on a recipe in Cooking Light magazine

I used a homemade vegetable broth for this soup, but you could use canned broth, or chicken broth if it is more convenient.

2 tablespoons butter
1 medium onion, chopped
½ teaspoon coarse (kosher) salt, plus more if desired
2 cloves garlic, minced
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon dry mustard
½ cup finely chopped carrot
1 medium celeriac (about ¾ pound untrimmed weight), finely chopped
¼ pound potatoes, peeled and finely chopped
4 cups vegetable broth
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
2 tablespoons half and half
1 cup cooked wild rice

1. Melt the butter in a large pot over medium heat. Add onion and ½ teaspoon salt. Saute 3 minutes, or until onion is beginning to soften and turn translucent. Stir in the garlic, pepper and dry mustard. Cook about 1 minute more.

2. Stir in the carrot, celeriac and potatoes. Add the vegetable broth and white wine vinegar. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat, cover and cook about 30 minutes or until the vegetables are tender.

3. Remove the pot from the heat. Spoon about half of the soup into a bowl (if using an immersion blender) or into a blender container. If using an immersion blender, blend the soup remaining in the pot until well-pureed. If using a conventional blender, blend the removed portion of the soup until well-pureed.

4. Carefully pour the removed soup back into the pot. Stir in the half and half and the wild rice. Taste the soup for salt and add more if desired. Return the pot to the heat to warm through if needed.

Makes about 6 servings.

The Darker Side of Bread

“The whiter the bread, the sooner you’re dead.” That’s what my dad always says. That adage had come down to him through the generations, and now seems to have found itself a place (although with gentler language) in nutrition science and dietary recommendations. Whole grains are good for you. Whole grains are darker than ultra-refined ones. Eat darker bread. Like this Dark Rye bread made with a hefty dose of whole grain flour and a few other dark (but not too scary) surprises.

For me, eating darker bread usually means making it myself. I can’t remember the last time I bought a loaf of bread, and I enjoy the challenge of making new recipes work. And this recipe was a challenge. There’s nothing unusual or tricky or complicated about it. I just used my usual method of making a mini-starter that stands for a short time to allow the yeast to grow and develop more flavor in the dough. The salt and the rest of the flour are then added and then the kneading begins. And therein lay the challenge. This was a stiff dough, even when still sticky, and I got myself quite a workout kneading it by hand. Next time you see me, if I have forearms like Popeye’s (without the anchor tattoo), you’ll know I’ve been making this bread.

I adapted this recipe from a bread machine baking book. That recipe was probably adapted from a conventional-method recipe, but I thought I’d take it back, since I haven’t had a functioning bread machine in years. I used a 100% whole grain stone-ground rye flour (Hodgson Mill brand) with enough bread flour and vital gluten flour to ensure that I made a bread rather than a brick.

As if rye flour wasn’t enough, this recipe gets even darker with doses of molasses, coffee and cocoa powder. The individual flavors of coffee and chocolate don’t necessarily stand out, but they give the bread a distinctive rustic, slightly bitter flavor, not to mention a rich brown color. This bread also has the usual (in my mind essential) caraway seed often found in rye breads, with the addition of fennel seed. I crushed the seeds gently in a mortar and pestle to release their essential oils, aromas, and flavors. The fennel pairs well with the molasses, contributing a subtle anise-like note.


This bread might not technically keep you from dying, but it sure makes living a lot more interesting. I served it with soup, but also sliced it for ham or pastrami and Swiss sandwiches (which Harry liked very much). It’s also great eaten all by itself slathered with butter. The kneading of this dough may be a challenge, but the results are so dark and delicious you’ll think you’re eating a vampire romance.

Dark Rye Bread
Adapted from The Complete Guide to Bread Machine Baking from Better Homes and Gardens

1 cup warm water (about 100-120 F)
2 ¼ teaspoons active dry yeast (1 envelope-style package)
3 tablespoons molasses
2 tablespoons butter
1/3 cup brewed coffee
3 tablespoons cocoa powder
2 cups bread flour, divided (plus more if needed)
2 cups stone-ground rye flour
1 tablespoon vital gluten flour
1 teaspoon caraway seed, coarsely crushed
½ teaspoon fennel seed, coarsely crushed
1 ½ teaspoons salt
oil or cooking spray

1. Combine the water, yeast, molasses and butter in a large bowl, or the bowl of a heavy-duty electric mixer. Let stand 5 minutes or until foamy.

2. Add the coffee, cocoa, 1 cup bread flour, rye flour, gluten flour and caraway and fennel seeds. Mix well until a soft batter forms. Cover with a towel and let the starter stand about 20 minutes.

3. Add the salt and about half of the remaining bread flour to the starter, stirring as much in as possible. Turn the dough out onto a floured surface (or place the dough hook in your mixer if you wish to knead by machine). Knead the dough, adding as much of the remaining bread flour as it will take (or add more if the dough is still very sticky). The dough will be very stiff and require some muscle to knead by hand. The dough should remain slightly tacky, but add enough flour to keep it from sticking to the kneading surface. Knead 10-12 minutes or until a moderately smooth dough is formed.

4. Form the kneaded dough into a smooth ball. Oil a large bowl or spray it with cooking spray. Place the dough ball in the bowl and oil or spray the top. Place a sheet of plastic wrap loosely on top of the dough. Cover it all with a towel and let stand to rise about 1 hour or until double in size.

5. Deflate the risen dough without squashing it completely flat. Let stand a few minutes. Shape the dough into a loaf about 10 inches long. (You could also use a 9-inch bread pan.) Place the loaf on a baking sheet coated with oil, cooking spray, or a silicone baking mat. Cover with a towel and let rise about 1 hour, or until it is about doubled in size and puffy-looking.



6. Preheat oven to 375 F. With a sharp knife, cut several slashes into the top of the unbaked loaf. Place in the oven and bake at 375 F for 30-35 minutes. You can check the bread for doneness by inserting an instant-read thermometer probe into the bread. It should be 200 F.

7. Remove the bread from the pan and cool on a wire rack.

Makes 1 2-pound loaf.