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Click here to find the best in current food news and trends in the world of real food, Slow Food and mindful eating.

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From the archives
Cardoon gratin is a classic Geneva Christmas dish, but only brave souls should try to prepare them because they are prickly, and the preparation can be long and tedious. Many farmers markets in Switzerland now sell them prepared sous vide, in plastic vacuum-packed packages, which is probably the best option for those who don’t get a thrill out of getting a few pricks. In any case, it is important to schedule it carefully into your meal preparations, because it is time-consuming any way you go about it.
All these steps can be carried out while the cardoons are cooking. There are actually several ways of doing this. You can either make a Béchamel (white) sauce and sprinkle cheese on the cardoons before you put them in the oven, or you can make a Mornay (cheese) sauce and pour it on the cooked cardoons before putting in the oven to brown. I think it’s tastier to make a Mornay sauce, and then sprinkle a bit of cheese on the top before putting it in the oven. Here’s my recipe.
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Approximately 1 kg of cardoons 30 g of butter 1 tablespoon of flour 2.5 dl of whole milk 1 dl of cream 50 g of cheese, type Gruyère or Swiss (see photo below), grated Lemon juice, freshly squeezed Salt and pepper to tasteNotes: It is important to use a hard, Swiss-type cheese. Cheddar cheese would have too strong of a taste. If you can’t find cardoons, the same recipe can be made with Swiss chard, thus eliminating the long, meticulous preparation. Simply cut them as for the cardoons and cook in chicken broth until tender, then follow the other steps in the recipe for making the gratin. Its texture is quite similar to that of cardoons.
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From the archives
Hanukkah recipes are passed down from generation to generation. There are hundreds of recipes floating around on the Internet, but I thought it best to consult a friend with trained taste buds. Here is what Warren Bobrow has to say.–Jonell Galloway, Editor
Of all the holiday foods I look forward to, there are two dishes that clearly connect my stomach to the past. The first is a rousing bowl of matzo ball soup. The other, specifically a Hanukkah dish, is a plate of crispy potato latkes, cooked in a heavy cast iron pan.
I forewarn you. This is a Jewish story, so it is repetitive and sometimes fahklumpt (a confused story, for those who are not in the know), told by a kvetch (a complainer) who secretly loves life and food and words and work, and tells a story full of fond memories.
My great-grandmother Yetta made excellent latkes. During these eight days of Hanukkah (eight chances to get it right . . . to be exact), we celebrate the past by reliving these flavors and the stories that go with them each time we bite into a steaming morsel of grated potato, egg, onion and a bit of vegetable oil, made straight from her recipe.
Generations of cooks have grated potatoes for latkes in celebration of Hanukkah. You will not be the first or the last. And every family has their own special recipe, their own special stories.
Bubby Yetta was particularly interested in not scraping her knuckles. Even so, she used to say that if you don’t catch your knuckle on the potato grater, the latkes couldn’t possibly taste good. Something about the physical act of grating potatoes already connects me to the old days when Bubby made the latkes every evening during Hanukkah.
Onions also resonate in my memory: the tears that ran down her cheeks as she grated the onions were not tears of joy. We heard the same kvetching every year, and carry on as we make our own history.
Every day of Hanukkah, Ur-Bubby Yetta would scrape and grate until the job was done. Much hushed conversation would follow. Were the latkes going to be good? If not, what would we do, there was no place in those days to buy frozen latkes in the supermarket!
And with each potato and onion grated, each tear fallen, each latke fried, another memory was made. Years of latke conversation would follow . . . How about the ones we made twenty years ago? Did potatoes taste differently then, or was it a specific taste that stuck in our memories?
So careful with the grater, and accept that you’ll invariably catch your knuckle at least once, and that you may well have the battle scars to prove that you made them from scratch. And stories to tell.
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by Esmaa Self
From the archives
Consider the parsnip. Sweet. Nutty. recipe. From fritters (recipe) to soup (recipe), homemade gnocchi (recipe) to curry (recipe), the mighty parsnip delivers folate, vitamin C, fiber and flavor. Even if you’ve never before tasted parsnips, my bet is that if you try one of these recipes, you’ll not only want more parsnips, you’ll want to grow your own (tips on that below).
Speaking of yum, here’s a recipe from Simple Organic Kitchen & Garden that I’ve adapted to fit the items in my pantry, notably dried tomatoes and porcini mushrooms. The original recipe is known as Parsnips and Chickpeas in Garlic, Onion, Chili and Ginger Paste. I added ingredients, skipped a couple others and decided to shorten the title to the equally descriptive Parsnips Piquant.
PARSNIPS PIQUANT
Ingredients
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The parsnip’s full flavor emerges after the plant has been exposed to near freezing temperatures, thus this root crop is considered a winter vegetable. Here in Colorado where we redefine cool, if not winter, a person may scoff at the very idea of growing a slow maturing vegetable. But parsnips are the only root crop that can survive in the ground all winter. Indeed, it is one of the few crops with which high elevation gardeners might achieve success. (source)
According to Shane Smith, in his book, Greenhouse Gardener’s Companion, parsnips require bright light, cool temperatures and may go to seed if overwintered. So you might wonder if I’ve slipped a cog when I mention that I grew two small patches of parsnips last winter in our attached passive solar greenhouse and that both test plots were partly shaded and further that one of the beds regularly reached air temperatures above 87 F.
However, if I mentioned that I fully intend to seed parsnips again for Colorado’s less industrious, though longer, growing season (AKA winter), you might want details regarding these attempts. You are in luck.
Two tries, two successes
I planted one batch in early August for inclusion in December’s root crop rich menus. This first sowing was in the raised bed nearest the southern greenhouse vent, which is the bed furthest from the main house’s southern wall and which is largely shaded in winter, thus the coldest spot in the greenhouse. The soil does not freeze, though air temps do occasionally reach the mid 30s. The parsnips we harvested from this test plot were every bit as large and straight and lovely (not to mention sweet) as those we’ve purchased in the store.
In addition, I grew a dozen parsnips in the west wing. This second test plot is within three feet of the main house’s west wall. The bed receives afternoon sun, which in the winter months, means that air temperatures reach the nineties, but soil temperature remains between 50-65 F. In addition, overnight air temps are generally a few degrees warmer than those in the first plot. We planted the second crop of parsnips in mid-October and harvested them in late January. They were two-thirds the size of the others, but possessed incredible flavor. Parsnips from this plot are featured in the images of Parsnips Piquant, above.
Companion plants include peas, potatoes, peppers, beans, radishes and garlic. Get more parsnip growing tips here.
Read more about Esmaa’s organic farming techniques on her site Middleground Farm.
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by Renu Chhabra
As for rosemary, I let it run all over my garden walls, not only because my bees love it but because it is the herb sacred to remembrance and to friendship, whence a sprig of it hath a dumb language.” — Sir Thomas More
Rosemary potatoes are my favorite all year long.
I always find myself circling around the oven when potatoes are roasting. Is it the intoxicating aroma of rosemary, or the anticipation of a warm bite of the potatoes?
I think it is both.
Hot from the oven on cool nights or at room temperature on warm days, they are always delicious. A cold nibble from the fridge does not disappoint me either. It is a classic combination that is very satisfying.
And who needs chips or french fries when oven-roasted spuds can treat our taste buds guilt free?
But today it’s about soup. My first pot of warm soup this season. And it’s rosemary potato soup.
A pot of familiar flavors simmered on stove top.
This soup has the same foundation of flavors. Fragrant rosemary perfumes the soup and garlic gives it pungency. In addition, I added sauteéed onions and fresh scallions to it. Sautèed onions also used as garnish in this recipe, give a deep flavorful bite. A drizzle of paprika oil adds color and warmth to this soup.
This recipe is vegan, but you can add a little milk for creaminess. Also garnish with your favorite cheese, if you wish.
The basic soup can be dressed several ways with your choice of garnish. I have enjoyed a few combinations.
Be creative and let your palate guide you. A basic soup with so many options to dress it with, See what you have in your pantry and fridge to brighten it to your liking.
I would love to hear your ideas.
To serve, heat the soup and ladle into bowls. Garnish with browned onions. scallions, and a drizzle of paprika oil. Serve hot.
Note: I used water but if you wish, you can use vegetable stock. Potatoes absorb a lot of flavors, so adjust flavors to your taste. Add as much or as little garlic, salt, pepper. Rosemary can be overpowering, if used in excess. Garnish to your taste. If you like spicy food, make chili oil instead of paprika oil.
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From the archives

Rock solid! That’s what the ice on my windscreen this morning was. It was so hard that here was no way my ice scraper was going to break any ice. At -5 degrees C my hands were freezing onto anything that had the slightest bit of moistness!
Winter has settled down comfortably in our parts. There was beautiful snow all through the Thanksgiving weekend and ever since, it’s been a bit dull, cold and icy.
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Arroz con leche in South America. Arroz Doce in Portugal. Kheer in India. Rice Pudding in the United States. What makes rice boiled in milk and sugar so irresistible? The secret may be in the grain.
The Indian version, made with basmati rice, spiced with cardamom and garnished with almonds and sultanas is exotically delicious. The Portuguese version, which calls for short-grain rice, egg yolks and cinnamon, is a creamy Iberian dream. My Venezuelan grandmother’s recipe called for long-grain rice and condensed milk.
Both the grain and the cooking method impact the creaminess of the final pudding. Whereas my grandmother’s and the recipes from Portugal boil the rice in water first, kheer is cooked in the milk. The major disadvantage of cooking the rice directly in the milk is that it tends to stick to the bottom of the pan and requires constant stirring to keep it from burning.
The recipe I have concocted after traveling the world as a Destination Chef and after experimenting with several exotic grain varieties is the best of all worlds. It includes my grandmother’s condensed milk, the Portuguese egg yolks in moderation, toasted almonds, and it is made with sushi rice. It is also true to both my eating and culinary philosophy that you can turn almost any guilty pleasure into a small plate to better savor it without the guilt.
In a final twist against the grain, I serve it warm, rather than chilled.
The Long and Short of it
Not all rice grains behave equally under pressure. Of the short grain rice varieties I tested for this recipe the sushi rice, also known as japonica, turned creamiest in the least amount of time.
The other varieties I used are listed below, along with some of their most distinctive features.
This Italian short-grain rice is named after the town of Arborio in Italy’s Po Valley. It is often used for risotto and to make rice pudding as well. Because it is both creamy and chewy at the same time, arborio is great for rice pudding.
A medium-grain rice grown in the Vercelli province in the Italian Piedmont, carnaroli has a higher starch content than arborio. It is also a little firmer and the grain is a little longer than arborio’s. It worked great for the arroz con leche, but it takes about 40 minutes to cook and it is expensive.
The Japanese short-grain rice used for sushi is oftentimes called japonica. It takes years of practice and patience to make sushi rice that is suitable for a sushi roll. After taking a class with a master sushi chef and realizing I could not wait 10 years to make the perfect rice, I decided on a shortcut: Why not use sushi rice to make rice pudding? The grain is very short and it absorbs the milk beautifully. You may also use a sushi rice variety grown in California, known as calrose.
This isn’t a variety of rice, but rather a short-grain rice which has been infused with bamboo juice. This exotic grain has a lovely hue of jade and a slightly grassy taste reminiscent of green tea. It is also moist. I really hoped this would be my finalist because the color of the grain is lovey, the taste is subtle and the rice is full of nutrients. In the end, though, I found that to better appreciate its flavor subtleties this rice is better steamed or boiled. But if you want to indulge your inner panda, try it with white fish, sea scallops or chirashi (Edo-style scattered sushi).
Of the long-grain varieties, basmati remained the crunchiest, even after boiling it in 10 cups of milk. I was aiming for creamy, so this wasn’t the rice for me.
Grown in north central India and Pakistan, basmati is a variety of long-grain rice. It is often used to make biryani, pulao and kheer. It has a sweet aroma reminiscent of pandanus leaves.
Originally from Thailand, jasmine rice has a nutty taste and fragrant aroma. The grains will stick together when cooked, though it isn’t as starchy as the short-grain varieties. Of the two long-grain varieties jasmine made for the creamiest arroz con leche, but not as creamy as sushi rice.
The two secrets to this recipe are boiling the rice in water first and using sushi rice. Boiling the rice first also substantially reduces the overall cooking time. Because some of the starch is removed during boiling, I find this method keeps the rice from sticking to the bottom of the pan as well.
To download and print a PDF copy of my Arroz con Leche Condensada y Canela recipe, click here.
Arroz con Leche Condensada y Canela
For the garnish:
1/3 cup blanched almonds (1.3 oz/ 36 grams)Arroz con leche:
Garnish:
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We’ve been making Thanksgiving dinner together for oh so many years — ever since we were in college in Paris. Since the pumpkin in France is always too watery, no matter what method of cooking we used and what type of pumpkin, we had difficulty getting it to set, so we decided to use sweet potatoes, which give a much more predictable and reliable result, which is absolutely necessary when preparing a Thanksgiving feast for a crowd of 20 or 30 convives. In addition, we’ve grown to like it better (perhaps because we know it will always set, unlike pumpkin?).
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From the archives
Cranberry sauce is of course a mainstay of any Thanksgiving dinner. In Switzerland, we eat a lot of game, so it is good to always have some on hand to eat with deer, wild fowl, boar, or whatever the hunters bring in.
This is a variation of the very plain, classic recipe. I’ve been using it for years. It’s easy, quick and a no-brainer. You can make it ahead of time (in fact, it’s better to make it a day or two before Thanksgiving). In addition, it keeps for ages, just like jelly or jam.
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12 oz/375 g fresh cranberriesThis recipe was originally published on GenevaLunch.
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