Stop and Smell the Blossoms

This story is super pretentious, but bear with me. My love for zucchini blossoms blossomed on the last night of my first trip to Italy. I was in Rome, dining with two women with whom I'd just spent a week at a Tuscan cooking school, and we were celebrating our final night before we were to fly off to our respective homes the next morning--Anne back to the UK, Sandra to Australia, and I to the States. We'd just concluded a weeklong culinary holiday in Tuscany, shopping local farmers' markets and preparing stupendous meals, and in between, touring ancient walled cities and historic churches.

Since all of our flights were out of Rome, we took the train down from Tuscany just in time for one last dinner together. We settled on a little trattoria in an out-of-the-way neighborhood, and that's where I spotted them on the menu: fried, stuffed zucchini blossoms. I'd seen them in cookbooks previously, but never had encountered them at home. When they arrived on a plate in front of me, I was smitten. They were simply beautiful--crisp, lightly battered and fried, and stuffed with a mixture of breadcrumbs and cheese, with a hint of anchovy. They had the faint taste of zucchini, but were light and airy in texture. What a perfect dinner to end a perfect week in Italy.

Their flavor remained in my taste memory for years, and I sought them out at restaurants at home and on my travels, to little avail. Todd even tried growing zucchini in his garden, just so I could harvest the blossoms as they appeared, but our soil wasn't right for growing them, and they never quite took root.

Then, last month, while wandering through the stalls at Eastern Market, I stumbled upon a gorgeous, golden pile of zucchini blossoms at the Brother Nature stand. Located on Rosa Parks Boulevard near Temple, Brother Nature has two acres of organically-grown produce, from salad greens to flowers to herbs. I quickly snatched up a bag of blossoms and began experimenting in the kitchen. Success! My first attempt at fried stuffed zucchini blossoms tasted almost like those I had at that out-of-the-way trattoria many years ago. My return trip to Brother Nature this past weekend was just as productive, and I repeated them for dinner one night this week. Alas, this will likely be my last dalliance with the beautiful blossoms until next year. I have a tendency to overdo certain dishes to the point of getting sick of them. I don't want that to happen with these. However, should you care to give them a try, here's my recipe:

Stuffed Zucchini Blossoms

12-14 zucchini/squash blossoms

Batter:

2 c. flour

1/4 c. corn starch

1 Tbsp. baking powder

2 c. sparking water or light beer (i.e., not dark beer--I used Miller High Life, the Champagne of Beers, 'cause I'm classy that way and that's all we had in the house)

Filling:

2 c. fresh bread crumbs

2 garlic cloves, crushed

1/4 c. chopped fresh basil leaves

4-6 anchovy filets, chopped

1/4 c. grated parmigiano-reggiano

1/2 c. extra virgin olive oil

salt & pepper to taste

Trim the blossoms, removing any long stems or blemished petals. If the blossoms are still closed, gently open them. Rinse thoroughly (dirt and/or bugs can sometimes be trapped inside the blossoms), and dry gently in a salad spinner. Set aside while you prepare the batter.

For the batter, combine the dry ingredients in a medium bowl. Add the sparkling water or beer, to make a batter the consistency of pancake batter. Set aside in the refrigerator while you prepare the filling and stuff the blossoms.

For the filling, combine the bread crumbs, garlic, basil, anchovy, cheese, salt and pepper in a small bowl. Drizzle olive oil slowly over the mixture, until it begins to hold together (you might not use the entire amount of oil)

Gently stuff each blossom with approximately 1 teaspoon of the filling. Depending on the size of your blossoms, you may end up with some extra filling, which is delicious sauteed in a pan and sprinkled over pasta and sauce.

Fill a deep saucepan (I used a 2-quart) with approximately 1-1/2 inches of vegetable oil, and heat to 350 degrees (or, until a small bread cube--use a small piece from the filling if you have some left--browns within a few seconds). Dip a stuffed blossom into the batter, which you've removed from the refrigerator, and place gently into the oil. You should be able to fit about 4 blossoms into the pan at a time. Fry until golden, flipping over, as necessary, about 2-3 minutes per side. Remove from oil and drain on paper towels. Sprinkle with additional salt, if desired.

Makes 12-14 blossoms. I recommend two per person as an appetizer, three or four if serving as an entree with side dishes (e.g., pasta, vegetable, etc.).

For more information on Brother Nature Produce, search for them on Facebook.

We Be Jammin'!

Last summer, when I found myself with a bit of extra time on my hands post-layoff, my cousin Toni taught me the art of jamming. This may sound like an exaggeration (and, I assure you, it is not), but it was kind of life-altering! Who knew making and canning jam could be so easy?

When Todd and I came home with 20 pounds of blueberries from a trip to Kalamazoo last July, the prospect of jamming was at the top of my mind. Toni came by and took me to the local ACE Hardware to pick up some essential canning equipment: a big, black boiling-water canning pot, a pair of jar lifters, a wide-mouth canning funnel, and a pile of canning jars with two-piece lids (you know, the kind with a flat lid and a screw top).

We spent a long afternoon, gossipping and noshing, as Toni walked me step-by-step through the process: from sterilizing the jars and lids to processing the jam-filled jars in a hot water bath. She even clued me in on a tip for knowing when the jars are properly sealed: as the jars cool upon removal from the water bath, they will give off a very satisfying "click" sound as the flat top gets sucked in to the jar.

I took an early morning trip to Eastern Market this past Saturday to see what kind of fruit I could muster up for this season's first jam session. Unfortunately, I missed the peak of strawberry and raspberry season, so I went with the familiar blueberry. I picked up a 5-lb. box from a local farmer, and stored them at home in a cool, dry place until I could get to them today. My effort in jamming was a successful one, and I look forward to another year of enjoying delicious blueberry jam. I'll be back to the market this coming weekend to see what else I can find. Perhaps some fresh Michigan cherries.

Blueberry Jam

6-1/2 c. chopped blueberries (approximately 5 pints whole berries pulsed in a food processor)
1/2 c. water
4-1/2 c. sugar
1 box SURE JELL fruit pectin

Special equipment: boiling-water canner with rack; 9 8-oz. jam jars with 2-part lids; wide-mouthed canning funnel; jar lifter

Bring boiling-water canner, half-full with water, to simmer.

Wash jars and screw bands in hot, soapy water; rinse with warm water. Allow to dry on baking sheet lined with kitchen towel. Pour boiling water over flat lids in saucepan or metal bowl. Let stand in hot water until ready to use. Drain well before use.

In a food processor, pulse whole berries until roughly chopped. Do not puree. Jam should have bits of fruit.

Measure exact quantity of chopped blueberries into a 6- or 8-quart saucepot. Stir in water.

Measure exact quantity of sugar into separate bowl. Do not reduce amount of sugar.

In a small bowl, mix 1/4 cup sugar from measured amount and 1 box SURE-JELL fruit pectin. Stir pectin-sugar mixture into fruit in saucepot.

Bring mixture to full rolling boil (continues bubbling when stirred) on high heat, stirring constantly.

Stir in remaining sugar quickly. Return to full roiling boil and boil 1 minute, stirring constantly. Remove from heat.

Using canning funnel, ladle jam quickly into prepared jars, filling to within 1/8 inch of tops. Wipe jar rims and threads with damp paper towel. Cover with two-piece lids. Screw bands tightly.

Using jar lifter, place jars on elevated rack in canner. Water must cover jars by 1-2 inches; add boiling water, if needed.

Cover; bring water to gentle boil. Process jam 10 minutes.

Remove jars using lifter and place upright on towel-lined baking sheet to cool completely. After jars cool, check seals by pressing middle of lid with finger. If lid springs back, lid is not sealed and refrigeration and immediate use is necessary. As the jars cool, listen for the lids to "click," indicating they have sealed properly. The flat top of the lid will be slightly concave.

Let stand at room temperature 24 hours. Store unopened jars in cool, dry, dark place up to 1 year. Refrigerate opened jam up to 3 weeks.

Yields 9 8-oz. jars.

This recipe is per the instructions in the box of SURE JELL fruit pectin. Other brands will vary slightly in proportions. I also picked up a box of Ball (as in Ball jar) fruit pectin, and will give that a shot the next time out.

Granola Girl

Ever since I started picking up bags of granola during my Eastern Market runs--first the locally-made Randy's Original Granola, then the organic granola from Hampshire Farms--I've been preoccupied with the idea of making my own. I've taken, recently, to starting out my day with a bowl of non- or low-fat organic vanilla yogurt topped with a handful of granola. It's an easy post-workout breakfast, and pretty nutritious to boot.

Once again adapting a recipe from Epicurious, I set out to make my own granola. I started with some organic oatmeal from Hampshire Farms, and combined it with local and/or organic products, including local honey from a gentleman running a stand at Eastern Market in Detroit; golden raisins, dried apricots, and slivered almonds from Western Market in Ferndale; and flaxseeds from Bob's Red Mill, known for its full line of natural and certified organic products.

Homemade Granola (adapted from Real Food for Healthy Kids, July 2008, via epicurious.com)

1/2 c. walnut oil

1/3 c. maple syrup or honey

1/4 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. vanilla

1 tsp. cinnamon

4 c. organic oatmeal

1/4 c. flaxseeds

1 c. chopped dried apricots

1 c. golden raisins

1 c. slivered almonds, toasted

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Combine the walnut oil, maple syrup or honey, salt, vanilla, and cinnamon in a large bowl. If using honey that has crystallized, place bowl over a saucepan of simmering water and stir until honey has melted and loosened.

Stir in oatmeal and flaxseeds until evenly combined. Spread out onto a parchment paper-lined sheet pan and bake 25 minutes until golden, stirring once with a spatula about halfway through. Let cool in the pan--the mixture will crisp as it cools. Add the apricots, raisins, and almonds and toss together. Makes approximately 8 cups of granola.

Flaxseeds contain high amounts of Omega-3 fatty acids, which protect bone health while providing protection against heart disease, cancer, and diabetes. Dried apricots are full of beta carotene and dietary fiber, while raisins are high in fiber, antioxidants, and calcium. Similar to olive oil, almonds contain important monounsaturated fats which are associated with reduced risk of heart disease (Sources: http://www.whfoods.com/, http://healthmad.com/).

For more information on Randy's Granola, visit http://www.randysgranola.com/

Smoky Greens & Beans

I had a quite the marvelous market haul this past Saturday from my brief, early morning jaunt to Eastern Market. For just over $10, I scored some great local, late-season produce, including kale, spinach, brussels sprouts, broccoli, potatoes, and onions the size of a small child's head. On top of that, I picked up a dozen organic, pastured eggs from the Hampshire Farms stand, where I'd purchased the split peas mentioned my previous post.

We were pretty booked all weekend long, so I was really looking forward to getting into the kitchen this week and cooking up some hearty, wintry dishes with my haul. While flipping through a recent issue of Bon Appetit, I found the exact recipe to kick off my week. It would make use not only of some of the aforementioned produce, but also the gorgeous speckled and striated dried Roman beans I picked up at Ventimiglia's Italian Market in Sterling Heights. Also known--among other names--as cranberry beans and Borlotti beans, these are white with deep red striations, and similar in size to cannellini (white kidney) beans. They're firm yet creamy in texture and nutty in flavor, and are typically used in soups and stews. As such, when paired with the beautifully curly kale from the market, they made for a delicious winter stew for tonight's dinner. The smokiness of the Spanish paprika contrasted nicely with the vegetal taste of the kale and the nuttiness of the beans.

Smoky Greens and Beans (Bon Appetit, November 2009)

While this recipe calls for canned cannellini beans, I substituted them with an equal quantity of home-cooked Roman beans, prepared via the method in my January 5 entry, "Mangiafagioli")

2 Tbsp. olive oil

1 large onion, chopped

2 garlic cloves, chopped

1 14.5-oz. can diced tomatoes in juice

1-1/2 tsp. smoked Spanish paprika (Pimenton Picante or Pimonton de La Vera Picante)

1 14.5-oz. can vegetable broth (I substituted with water)

8 c. coarsely chopped greens (e.g., kale, mustard greens, collard greens)

1 15-oz. can cannellini beans, drained

Grated Manchego or Parmigiano cheese (optional)

Heat oil in heavy large pot over medium heat. Add onion and saute until soft and beggining to brown, about 6 minutes. Add garlic; stir 1 minute. Add tomatoes with juice and paprika; stir 1 minute. Add broth and greens; bring to boil, stirring often. Reduce heat to medium-low, cover, and simmer until greens are wilted and tender, stirring occasionally, about 15 minutes. Stir in beans and simmer 1 minute to heat through. Divide among bowls; sprinkle with cheese, if desired. Serves 4.

"This is poor people food!" Todd exclaimed when he peered into the pot of simmering beans. Yes, beans are known to be traditionally peasant food--they're economical, healthful, and belly-filling. They're a delicious source of protein and fiber, which is perfect, as I search for ways to cut down on my consumption of animal proteins and carbohydrates.