If you are in the tri-state area, you may be able to tune in today at noon to Leonard Lopate's riveting radio show on WNYC -- 820 AM -- where I, and Alice Walton, the farm coordinator from Katchkie Farm (upstate New York) will be talking about "the new meat" -- ROOT vegetables. They are getting the respect they deserve and have, so to speak, come out of the closet (or root cellar.) Leonard's producer mentioned that we would be exploring the glories of winter's weirder vegetables -- namely kohlrabi and salsify and, in the spirit of full disclosure, I have never made either one. I am currently in love with parsnips and rutabagas, and you will find many recipes for these rapacious roots in Radically Simple (from parsnip fries to a dreamy rutabaga, creme fraiche & havarti torte that looks a lot like a birthday cake.) But in the last few days, kohlrabi is king in our house. Both green and purple varieties, I have roasted, boiled, steamed, and fried them, and slivered them raw. Kohlrabi, known as a German turnip, is a low, stout, spherical relation to the cabbage that will grow most anywhere. Its leaves can also be eaten. In fact, kohlrabi is the "national veg" of Kashmir where it can be found on many kitchen tables, three or four times a week. The taste and texture is similar to that of a broccoli stalk but it is sweeter and the flesh is more translucent. Hands down we now have two favorite ways of eating this at home. Boiled whole, then refrigerated until very cold, I peel them (the skin slips off easily) and cut them into meticulous 1/2-inch cubes. I dab each with a bit of creme fraiche and sea salt. That's it! I know this will be my next hors d'oeuvres for a party, topped off with a smidge of caviar. Gorgeous alabaster cubes of sweet earthiness and salinity. Our second favorite way is to boil and chill them, cut them into 1-inch cubes and fry them in olive oil until golden brown and crispy all over. We sprinkle them with salt and West Indian curry powder. Fabulous! Healthy! Meaty and fleshy! Stay tuned to Roots, part 2 tomorrow.
It's 6 a.m. Do You Know Where Your Turkey Is?
If you are the host of today's festivities you are, no doubt, up early to start cooking your turkey. If you are me, however, you are at a good friends home
in Maryland, with a cafe filtre in hand, sitting alone in a dark kitchen, dying to share a few last minute ideas with any takers. As promised yesterday on
Twitter and Facebook, here follows a recipe for roasted root vegetables that I recently starting serving as a Thanksgiving hors d'oeuvres. Radically simple to prepare, these veggies are surprisingly delicious at room temperature and satisfy many gustatory issues on this rather peculiar eating day. First, they can be made early in the morning (and drizzled with good olive oil and a splash of fresh lemon juice just before serving.) Second, they fulfill the commandment to respect any vegetarians coming to visit. Third, they are inexpensive. Fourth, they don't compete for oven time later in the day. Fifth, they look dramatic on a large platter. Sixth, they don't fill you up in the way that cheese logs and artichoke-spinach dip often do. Seventh, the pecan gremolata is addictive. And last, but not least, they taste good with Prosecco, apple cider or...Scotch!
Equally compelling is my gently spiced Sweet Potato Gratin. It looks a lot like a birthday cake and can be transported (and reheated) easily in the cake pan in which it's baked. Intriguingly spiced, it taunts your taste buds with nary a marshmallow in sight.
Happy Thanksgiving. I'm going back to bed.
Roasted Root Vegetables with Pecan Gremolata If you don't love turnips, you may substitute an equal amount of butternut squash or rutabagas, peeled and cut into 1-inch pieces.
1 pound carrots 1 pound parsnips 1 pound turnips, butternut squash or rutabaga 1-1/4 pounds Brussels sprouts 4 tablespoons olive oil, plus more for drizzling 3/4 cup pecans 1/4 cup finely chopped parsley 1/4 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano 2 large lemons 1 small clove garlic
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Peel the carrots, parsnips and turnips. Cut the carrots and parsnips in half lengthwise and then in half across the width. Peel the turnips (butternut squash or rutabaga) into 1-inch wedges or chunks. Trim bottoms of Brussels sprouts and cut in half lengthwise. Place the vegetables in a large bowl and toss with 3 tablespoons olive oil. Put vegetables on large rimmed baking sheet. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Roast 45 minutes, tossing several time during baking. Roast 10 to 20 minutes longer until tender. Transfer to a large platter. Make gremolata; Put pecans in food processor and pulse until finely ground (like bulgur wheat). Transfer to a bowl and stir in Parmesan and parsley. Grate the rind of both lemons and add to pecans. Stir in 1 tablespoon lemon juice and 1 tablespoon olive oil. Push garlic through a press and add to mixture. Add a pinch of salt, if needed. Scatter on top of vegetables. When ready to serve, drizzle with more olive oil and the juice of 1 lemon. Serves 8
Spiced Sweet Potato Gratin This can be made up to 8 hours in advance and reheated in a 400 degree oven for 15 minutes. You will need a 9 or 10-inch removable-bottom springform pan.
7 large sweet potatoes, 3-1/2 to 4 pounds 1-1/2 cups sour cream 12 ounces extra-sharp white cheddar, shredded 1 tablespoon curry powder 1 tablespoon ground cumin 3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon 3/4 teaspoon ground ginger
Put sweet potatoes in a large pot with water to cover. Bring to a rapid boil and boil 20 minutes until potatoes are just tender when pierced with a small knife. Be careful not to overcook as they need to be sliced. Drain in a colander under cold water. Slice potatoes 1/4-inch thick and pat dry with paper towels. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line the bottom of the springform pan with a round of foil. Line the bottom with a layer of sweet potato slices (about 2-1/3 potatoes per layer.) Fill in any spaces with potato pieces. Press down lightly to make a thick layer. Spread 1/2 cup sour cream over potatoes to cover completely. Mix spices in small bowl; sprinkle with 1/3 of the spice mixture. Sprinkle evenly with 1/3 of the cheese. Repeat process, making 2 more layers, ending with cheese on top. Place pan on rimmed baking sheet; bake 35-40 minutes until top is golden and bubbly. Remove from oven. Serve while hot or reheat later. Cut into wedges. Serves 10 to 12
White Carrots
I was planning to write about parsnips this morning -- my new favorite veg -- but something 
curious happened along the way. Last night as I was flipping the tv remote, I came upon a show on the Cooking Channel in which the chef (a new face to me) was peeling root vegetables. He referenced carrots, yellow potatoes, salsify and...white carrots. "But those are parsnips," I declared, and decided to share a few new recipes with you. But I was curious, too. I know there are lots of varieties of carrots being grown today as evidenced in riotous colors in today's farmers markets. I was also aware that red carrots have been grown in Egypt for centuries: They are sweet and often baked in the oven. But I had limited experience with white carrots. So I set about doing a bit of research and stumbled upon a whole new world: The World Carrot Museum, in fact! (www.carrotmuseum.com).
According to the museum, "the cultivated and edible carrot dates back about 5000 years and were first found in the Iranian plateau (including Afghanistan, Pakistan and Iran) and then later in the Persian Empire. At that time they were purple, yellow, red and probably white." They became orange sometime around the 1500's but you can read as much as you'd like about carrots on your own. This morning, I am interested only to find out why I'm writing about carrots at all. Here is the answer!
Throughout the Classical Period and the Middle Ages, writers constantly confused carrots and parsnips. "There was (and still is!)," according to the site, "enormous confusion when trying to sort out the individual histories of carrots and parsnips. The Latin name for the parsnip genus is thought to come from pastus, meaning "food." This would further explain the historical confusion of the two vegetables, as well as offer a testament to how important they both were in the ancient diet." Amen.
That tv chef is clearly struggling with this too, but, for clarity's sake, those were parsnips he was peeling.
In honor of this historical debate, I offer you, no kidding, a prescient foreboding of this dilemma from my book, Radically Simple. It is called Milky Carrot and Parsnip Puree, and would make a very nice addition to your Thanksgiving table.
Milky Carrot and Parsnip Puree When carrots and parsnips bubble in a milk bath with fresh sage and a clove of garlic, the resultant puree is the color of orange sherbet with a voluptuous texture and an alluring flavor. Nice with pork...or turkey.
1 pound carrots 1 pound parsnips 2 cups whole milk 4 large fresh sage leaves 1 large clove garlic 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
Peel the carrots and parsnips and cut them into 1/2-inch pieces. Place in a large saucepan. Add the milk (it will not cover the vegetables), sage, garlic and salt to taste. Bring to a boil. Reduce the heat, place the cover askew, and simmer 20 minutes, until very soft. Drain, saving the liquid. Transfer the vegetables to a food processor and process until very smooth; adding cooking liquid as needed to make a thick, creamy puree. Add the butter and process; season with salt and pepper. Serves 6