I have to say, for us, all this quinoa consumption isn’t merely a trend. We both grew up in South America, where quinoa, made as a side dish or a soup, is a staple.
Cut vegetables into cubes/stripes. Sautee garlic in olive oil; add cubed veg and about 1/2 cup of the broth and mix up. Cook for an additional three or four minutes, until the water sort of becomes pink. Add quinoa, parsley, and simmer, with lid closed, occasionally peeping in and mixing up. When all broth is absorbed, you get pink quinoa! And veg! And it all tastes so nice! Much better than the weird rice-with-ketchup of our childhood, and with a color that’s even freakier.
Simple and fun, and make use of all those amazing spring greens out there. Potential filling for Passover tomatoes (we’re of the grain-eating persuasion).
2 cups quinoa 2 carrots, grated 3 garlic cloves, chopped 1/2 onion, chopped 1/2 kg leafy greens, like mustard greens, leaves from red or white beets, kale, collards, etc, chopped up into ribbons 1 tbsp canola oil 2 tbsp soy sauce 1 tbsp vegetable broth 1/2 tbsp crushed chilis a teeny bit of squeezed lemon juice (optional) 1/2 tbsp honey
Cook quinoa in 3 cups of water until all water is absorbed. In the meantime, in a wok, heat up garlic cloves, chili and onion in canola oil. After a minute, add grated carrots, chopped greens, veg broth, soy sauce, lemon juice and optional honey. Then, add the quinoa and stir-fry for three minutes or so. Ready.
It appears that a few weeks ago Chad actually managed to take a picture of the flan he made before it was consumed (an incredible feat requiring considerable dexterity and restraint). The recipe is elsewhere on the blog; the picture itself is here.
As we get ready to leave, in a few months, and head off to the States again, we are confronted with the prospect of terrible hardships in the form of hummus deprivation.
I know Americans think that they get “hummus” when they go into one of those Middle-Eastern places and order “hummus” off the menu. The truth, my friends, is they don’t. What they get is what an Israeli friend of mine once referred to as “a fun garlicky spread, but no resemblance to Hummus”. Part of what comes with culinary diversity is that some of the production methods of stuff disappear as they emigrate across the seas. Also, stuff gets adjusted to foreign palates and loses its original taste.
(I suspect the same is true for ethnic cuisines I’m less familiar with, and a Japanese friend assures me that sushi served in America tastes nothing like Japanese sushi. Now I’m curious).
Anyway: one thing that holds true for many Israelis is that we sure love our hummus, and therefore have to decide what to do when away from adequate sources. One solution is to adopt the “no hummus outside Israel” rule. Another is to adjust to the local varieties and give a fair chance to the strange designer dips (roasted pepper hummus, pesto hummus, and other travesties). We, as usual, are taking the third path, and Chad is specializing in making hummus at home. Here’s how he does that.
1 kg garbanzo beans juice from one lemon 1 garlic clove 1 cup raw tchina 1/4 cup olive oil Possible garnishes: ready tchina (with lemon juice, parsley and garlic); leftover cooked garbanzo beans; ful; hard boiled egg.
Let garbanzo beans soak in water for at least a night. Discard the water.
Cook them in a lot of new water until very, very tender. While they are cooking, periodically remove the foam from the surface of the pot. To see if they are ready, try squeezing one and see if it becomes mush. This is not a time for haste. They really have to get very soft. Then, place them in your food processor with the tchina, some olive oil, a bit of lemon juice and – only if desired – the garlic clove. Add some of the cooking water to reach desired consistency. Process until smooth or semi-smooth (we like it a bit chunky).
Use a large spoon to “coat” a serving plate with hummus, then, in the middle, add a little mound of tchina, whole garbanzo beans, ful, or an egg cut in half.
So, I sat down and figured out what we’re going to serve folks for the Seder. The only who non-vegetarian items on the menu are my grandma’s traditional gefilte fish, whose absence would lead the masses to charge on the Bastille, and chicken broth, to which we will provide a mushroom broth alternative for non-carnivores. Apart from that, some of this stuff has already been featured here (but will be served in a more festive manner), and some of it will be posted when I do trial runs for everything. Caveat for kosher keepers – we eat grains and legumes during Passover, and, while there’s a chicken broth option, the parfait is dairy.
On the table during the Readings:
seder plate homemade olives nuts and almonds deviled Eggs
Firsts
gefilte fish tomatoes stuffed with quinoa salad mushrooms stuffed with vegetables and herbs
Soup
chicken broth Shiitake mushroom broth
Entrees
eggplant-tomato bake with soy and herbs roasted roots/root mash greens with garlic lentil pancakes onions stuffed with rice and spices green salad with avocado and grapefruit colorful veg salad
Dessert
lemon parfait matzoh layered chocolate cake fruit plate coffee and teas
And here’s something else that’s pretty cool; these easy strips are excellent in a sandwich with mustard.
Block of firm tofu Soy sauce Grated ginger Brown rice / whole wheat flour Olive or canola oil
Slice up a block of firm tofu into thin (2 mm) slices. Place them on a tray, pour soy sauce, add ginger slices and leave the whole thing alone for a few hours. Then, come back; wash and dry the tray, and spread some flour on it. Heat up some oil in a pan. When the pan is hot, you have to work fast; dip each slice in the flour, coating it from all sides, and fry it in the pan. Flip after about 30 seconds, get out of pan after an additional 30 seconds. Yum!
A simple lunch for us today, making use of more celery stalks.
1 cup white beans 2 carrots 5-6 celery stalks 1 tbsp olive oil 1 tbsp schoog (sort of a Yemenite salsa) or other hot sauce 2 tbsps soy sauce 2 tbsps dill
Place beans in large bowl, fill with water, and leave overnight. Next morning, strain, and simmer in fresh water until tender. Set aside. Chop carrots and celery stalks, so you have small pieces. Heat up olive oil and add schoog or salsa. When you get teary-eyed standing over the wok, add soy sauce and vegetables. Toss and cook 7-8 minutes or until barely tender. Then, add beans and dill, toss around for a couple of minutes – and, enjoy!
These days we’re a bit excited, foodwise; we’ve managed to convince all our family, which lives in the North, to come have the Passover Seder with us in Tel Aviv! Usually in our family, as for many families we know, the younger folks go hang out with the older ones. The parents or grandparents put up the holiday at their house, and the thirtyish folks come as guests.
Last year, we had the Seder here in Tel Aviv, and though a good time was had by all, we were afraid it was too much to ask for folks to drive all the way here on a holiday evening. However, it seems they enjoyed it so much that they want to come back – if anything, they were concerned whether it wasn’t too much for us to have them over! It certainly isn’t. In holiday times, small apartments seem to expand and make more room for rowdy, happy guests.
Everybody’s enthusiasm is interesting in light of the fact that, at our place, they can’t really expect large trays (or small trays, for that matter), of juicy meat; we serve a vegetarian meal. Our only concessions to tradition are my grandma’s fish balls and her clear chicken broth. Last year, someone brought a dish of fish, we forgot to serve it, and when we remembered, no one wanted any! They were quite happy with the lovely array of spring vegetables and fruit on the table. It’s important for us to have a beautiful, colorful display of seasonal local vegetables, because we see Passover, first and foremost, as a Spring festival. We like to read the story behind the holiday, of liberation and freedom, as a metaphor for, or a parallel to, the liberation of the Earth and Her children – trees, bushes, flowers, roots – from the winter cold, and the freedom to bloom and ripen.
The reason I exhaust you, kind readers, with all this theological and familial information, is because plenty of the recipes that will show up in this blog for the next month or so are “practice sessions” for the Seder meal. Some of them are things we made last year, and some are things we’ll try this year for the first time.
One humble but flavorful vegetable dish was a mix of celery and Shiitake mushrooms in a gentle, herb-flavored sauce. Here’s how we made it last year.
Celery and Shiitake Mushrooms in Broth and Soy
1 tbsp canola oil 3 garlic cloves 1/2 inch piece of ginger 1/2 tbsp of Thai Curry, or fresh ground red pepper large head of celery, with about 10 fresh, green celery stalks 10 dried shiitake mushrooms 1 cup hot water 1/2 cup vegetable broth 3 tbsp good quality soy sauce A few stalks of parsley, sage and thyme
Place mushrooms in a small bowl, and pour hot water on them. Leave to soak for about twenty minutes. In the meantime, you can prep the other ingredients: remove celery stalks from head, wash well, and cut into small, 1/3 inch pieces. Chop up the parsley, sage and thyme. Slice up the ginger and garlic cloves (bear in mind that, when feeding large crowds, some will dislike the ginger, so if you’ll need to fish it out before serving, do not chop it too thinly). Heat up the canola oil in a wok, add garlic cloves, ginger and Thai curry or red pepper. After about a minute, when kitchen becomes fragrant, add the celery stalks. Move them around the wok for a couple of minutes. Then, go back to your shiitakes, squeeze them well and keep the liquid. Slice ’em up and add to the celery stalks. After a couple of minutes, add to the wok broth, soy, herbs, and as much of the mushroom water as you like. It’ll be very flavorful. Stir and cook for another ten-fifteen minutes, or until celery is soft and nice, and most of the liquids have been absorbed.
The art above is by Arthur Szyk (see more beautiful and interesting Judaica at http://www.szyk.org/szykonline/index.html)
Yesterday, I had lunch with my dear grandparents at their house.
Lunch at the grandparents’ is always a source of joy. Beyond the pleasure of hanging out with them, my grandma is a fabulous cook. Her cooking influences hail from Russia and from Egypt – two places where the family had been before being in Israel. Accordingly, we get some traditional stuff like gefilte fish (carp balls, which, as opposed to the Polish version, are spicy rather than sweet) side by side with spicy exotic vegetable stuff. However, decades of cooking with the same ingredients have made my grandparents completely ignore the world of whole grains.
Ahhhh, don’t I like all those “traditional foods” advocates, who say that whatever your grandma cooks is good for you! Don’t these people know that white rice and flour, and refined grains, have been available for a long, long time, and enjoyed a reputation of being more palatable? While the grandparents know the benefits of fresh fruit and vegetables, and cook wonderful, creative dishes with them, they are a little bit afraid of whole grains.
So yesterday, my grandma took the plunge, and cooked quinoa from a packet that included some raisins and almonds and nuts. It came out very good, but she was very hesitant about doing other things with quinoa.
“You can buy this in bulk, like rice”, I said. “Really?” she said increduously. “But then how do I know about the fruit?” “You don’t have to have fruit”, I said. “You can cook this with vegetables”. I got strange looks. “Yeah”, I said with lots of conviction. “All those amazing dishes you make with white rice? You can make all of them with quinoa”. “Wow”, my grandpa joined the conversation. “This is really good.” “Like your mejeddera“, I said. “You can make your mejeddera just the same, with the lentils and onion, except use quinoa instead of the rice”. “You know”, said my grandma corageously, “I went to the store and almost bought brown rice. Except, with those rough peels, how can it cook at all?” “C’mon”, I argued, “if it wasn’t cookable, why would people sell it an eat it? Of course you can cook it. It takes a little more time”. “But it probably has a different flavor”, said my grandpa. “Yeah, it does”, I replied. “It tends to be a bit of an acquired taste for folks who are used to refined grains. But it’s really good once you get used to it”.
A short discussion revealed that the grandparents do eat barley and buckwheat and quite a variety of beans. “There”, I said, “you do eat beans and whole grains. So you can just add a couple more to your repertoire”.
My grandma promised she’d do some experimenting, and we’ll see the results next week when I come back for lunch. Hurrah!
In the meantime, for your sakes and for posterity, I’ll try and collect her traditional wonderful Russian and Egyptian recipes, and come up with healthier versions for them whenever needed.
Extremely easy recipe, and a good substitute for burgul, or, as Americans call it, “bulgur”. True, not the traditional main ingredient, so probably not for purists; but very tasty nevertheless. Simply mix the following ingredients:
2 cups cooked quinoa 1 fresh cucumber, chopped into teeny-tiny pieces 3 tbsp chopped fresh parsley 1 tbsp chopped cilantro juice from 1 lemon
