Risotto with pea greens and peas

I made a decision this year to stick with my Veggie Box for the entire winter. At first it was a fun challenge, learning new ways to prepare fennel, radishes, kohlrabi and the like (I've never eaten so many potatoes). But I admit, after pulling yet another cabbage out of that (incredibly heavy!) box, I was beginning to wonder when it all would end. And then I got this gem:

I think I've heard of pea greens before, but I'd never tasted them and certainly had never cooked with them. After a nibble of a raw leaf I concluded that they were a bit like spinach - but so much prettier, and reminiscent of spring! I had to think of a new recipe to do justice to this welcome winter guest.

Risotto is a wonderful dish, both for its comforting and rib-sticking qualities, and also for its versatility. You can make a deeply flavored risotto with wine and mushrooms, or a light springy one with asparagus and peas. Eyeing a bag of frozen peas and some turkey bacon in my freezer and the fresh sprigs on my counter, I decided this would be the perfect hearty and satisfying winter dish, with some light notes of spring (which is still many months away).

I used to think risotto was hard to make, but it turns out the hardest part is paying attention. You have to add the liquid little by little, and stir the rice constantly so the starch breaks down or something and gives you that nice, creamy texture. Other than that it's hard to go wrong, as long as you include some aromatics, some liquid (broth, wine, water, or a combination) and of course the veggies.

As I am starting to do with so many recipes, I turned to trusty Mark Bittman for a base. Since my veggie box was thoughtful enough to include shallots I threw those in as well, but I imagine onions would do just fine. 

Risotto with pea greens and peas

Original risotto recipe from Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything

2 tbsp olive oil

2 shallots, finely chopped

4 oz bacon or turkey bacon, diced

1 1/2 cups arborio rice

1/2 cup dry white wine

4-6 cups of chicken broth

1 cup frozen or fresh peas

bunch of pea greens

1/2 cup parmesan cheese

1-2 tbsp butter, to taste

Saute shallots and bacon in olive oil until onions translucent. Add arborio rice and saute for a few minutes. Add white wine and then add broth, 1/2 cup at a time, until rice is tender (about 20-30 minutes). Fold in peas, pea greens, cheese, and butter. Garnish with more cheese and serve with the rest of the wine.

Chai spice biscotti

As a half-Indian girl, my knowledge of Indian cooking is limited. A few prized gems from various aunties, a few more from cookbooks purchased in India, and a solid but modest collection from my father (boys didn't spend much time in the kitchen) gives me a passable repertoire among non-Indian friends. And fortunately the internet has made many more accessible. But one thing my family has always known about is tea.

I was an impressionable high-schooler when Chai tea hit the chain coffee shops. You couldn't swing a Starbucks Venti without encountering an ad for a Chai Spice Latte. My own beloved Seattle's Best Coffee offered their own version, a combination of steamed milk and Oregon Chai mix  (still sold at Trader Joe's). But my dad knew how to make it from scratch. And that was cool.

The mixture of anise, cloves, cardamom, cinnamon, and whatever else you like to throw in may seem like overkill at first. But the combination of flavors elevates them each to another level, and in the end it's hard to tell where one begins and another ends.

It was only a matter of time before I decided that such amazing flavors shouldn't be confined to a beverage. I started with the sweets, which seemed an easier translation. Early failures included my dairy-free chai spice ice cream, which I blame not on the flavors but on the consistency of ground cashews taking the place of silky milk and cream.

But these biscotti.

I didn't want to ruin the delicate combination of spices with chocolate, but these tart cherries provided the perfect contrast of taste and texture to an otherwise crispy, aromatic cookie. I suppose cranberries could work as well but if you know where to look dried cherries are both accessible and inexpensive. And so much fancier. 

Biscotti, for those of you who don't parla Italiano, literally means twice-cooked. And that's exactly what you do: first the dough is shaped into a log, and baked until cooked through. Then the log is sliced into the familiar crescent shape and they're toasted until that wonderfully hard, crisp texture is achieved. If you're one of those that likes a soft cookie, toast a little less. If you're like my mother and partial to "jawbreakers," cook until golden, then turn the oven off and let them sit and dry out completely.

The basic ingredients are the usual: butter, sugar, eggs, a little baking powder, and much more flour than you'd think. I used Mark Bittman's basic biscotti recipe for the base, then added spices and cherries. I did half the batch with chocolate chips and vanilla instead of chai spice, for my husband, who doesn't see the point of a chocolate-less dessert.

But the chai spice ones were so much better. 

Chai spice biscotti with cherries

Basic recipe from Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything 

1/4 c (1/2 stick) butter

3/4 c sugar

3 eggs

1 tsp vanilla extract

2 c flour 

1 tsp baking powder

1/4-1/2 tsp each: ground cardamom, anise, and cloves, cinnamon; use less if using fresh ground spices, more to taste

1/2 c chopped dried cherries

1. Heat oven to 375 degrees. 

2. Cream butter and sugar, then add eggs and vanilla. 

3. Combine flour, baking powder, and spices in a measuring cup. Add mixture a little at a time, mixing until incorporated. 

4. Fold in cherries by hand.

5. Form two logs on a cookie sheet. The height of the log will be the width of your cookie. See picture above.

6. Bake about 30 minutes, until logs are golden on top and mostly cooked through. 

7. Let cool for a few minutes, then slice into 1/2 inch crescents. I find it's best to used a short, serrated knife for optimal control of cookie width and to preserve the nice crescent shape (too much pressure from a knife can flatten them).

8. Place slices back on cookie sheet(s) and bake at 250 for about 15 minutes or until toasted and golden. Cool on cookie racks, or turn off oven and let them get even crispier in there. 

Penne alla vodka

You know that question people who aren't obsessed with food sometimes ask, where they expect you to choose your favorite food, the one you couldn't live without?

I recently had to answer that at an ice breaker. I thought about saying pasta, describing how much I love the feeling of biting into a perfectly al dente cut of papardelle or rigatoni, the satisfaction only flour can bring...

but then I realized what I really love is pasta sauce. I think I'd eat a good sauce over anything, including sometimes just my fork. With parmigiano sprinkled on top, of course.

I learned how to make this sauce from an old coworker, who owns an Italian restaurant with her husband. Blending the fresh, sweet tones of onions, tomato and basil with the richness of butter and vodka (and traditionally cream) it's the perfect balance, leaving you wanting nothing. Except more pasta to soak it up.

Penne alla vodka

(measurements are imprecise, adjust to taste)
olive oil
1 onion, finely minced
2 tbsp butter
1/3 c. vodka
1 28-oz can crushed or whole tomatoes (San Marzano are best)
handfuls of chopped basil, plus more for garnish

1/4-1/2 c. whipping cream (optional)

Saute onions in olive oil. Add butter once onions are translucent, melt. Add vodka, simmer until scant thin liquid remains. Add tomatoes, crushing with hands into pot, and chopped basil to taste. 

Let simmer for at least an hour. If desired add cream to taste and warm through. Toss with pasta*, garnish with basil and serve with extra sauce and Parmesan cheese. 

Penne is of course my favorite, but this sauce is so good it works on practically anything. Even the brown rice fusilli pictured again. See, sometimes I make things without gluten. 

As an alternative, top pizza crust with vodka sauce, basil leaves, and a generous sprinkling of Parmesan cheese.

Bake on a pizza pan, stone, or grill pan (as pictured here) at 450 degrees until crispy. 

Zuppa di Lenticchie

Spring is in the air, if you're lucky enough to catch it. Basking in the afternoon sun, I fantasize about grilling until dinnertime comes around and I realize I'm wearing a coat and scarf and no longer wish to spend time outdoors. When the other night brought more wind and rain (but no snow this time!) I found myself turning to this recipe. Adapted from the irreproachable Marcella Hazan (and among her simpler recipes), this soup is a longtime favorite in our home. It's  hearty enough to fill the soul, but virtuous enough to feel good about when summer clothes season looms ahead. And a big plus (you may be sensing a theme here), it requires minimal shopping! I was way behind on my groceries so I picked up some pancetta for this one, but I've found it works just as well with bacon, ham, sausage, or anything smoky-flavored you have on hand. My mother has been known to make it with *gasp* no meat at all, but I don't think it would be the same. For your semi-veg friends, you can use turkey bacon and chicken broth and it comes out just as nice.

Zuppa di lenticchie (from Marcella Hazan)

1-2 Tbsp olive oil

1 Tbsp. butter

1 onion, diced

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 large carrot (or handful of baby carrots), chopped

2-3 stalks celery, chopped, with leaves saved for garnish

1 tsp dried marjoram (or 2 Tbsp fresh)

4 oz pancetta (or other smoky meat)

1 1/2 c. dried lentils (I used green here, which take a little longer to cook; brown works best I think)

1 15-oz can diced tomatoes

4-5. c. beef broth (I use bullion)

parmesan cheese and celery leaves to taste

1. Saute onions, garlic, carrots, celery, and marjoram in olive oil and butter until onions slightly translucent.

2. Add pancetta, saute until cook through and fat rendered out.

3. Add lentils, saute 1-2 minutes (I can't explain why but this seems to help them maintain their form and avoid becoming overly mushy after the water is added. It's like rice in risotto?)

4. Add diced tomatoes, saute until warmed through.

5. Add beef broth, bring to a boil and cover.

6. Cook 30+ minutes, until lentils are tender and most of the liquid is absorbed. You can add more water to taste - we tend to prefer a stewier texture, but there's enough flavor to stretch the broth into a proper soup.

7. Serve with Parmesan cheese to taste, garnished with celery leaves, and alongside a nice dry red and some crusty bread. Bring it, April showers.