Blue Cayenne

John Keats wrote that “a thing of beauty is a joy forever.”

So it is with this beautiful salad. The colors are intense. The flavors and textures are delightful. There is joy on your plate.

But why do certain foods, like this beautiful salad, tempt our taste buds while others fall flat? According to an article in Popular Science, how we taste foods is affected by a complex set of factors including temperature, language, the utensils we use, color, environment and expectations.

For example, warm beer tastes more bitter than cold beer. Cold foods taste saltier. Likewise, the environment in which we dine affects our taste. In an interesting study, a group of Scotch whiskey drinkers were rotated through three themed tasting rooms. One room was decidedly “grassy.” As the crowd tippled, grass smells wafted in the air and the sounds of bleating sheep provided background Muzak. Others of the rooms were themed “sweet” and “woody.” Researchers found that the drinkers’ descriptions of the taste of the Scotch reflected the environmental clues. (Where do you sign up for Scotch tastings, by the way? If it will advance science, I’m willing to do my part.)

In another study, this one published in Eric Schlosser’s Fast Food Nation, a group of diners were gathered for a steak and fries dinner in a room that was specially lighted to showcase the food. A fine time was had by all until the special lighting was turned off and the diners discovered that the steaks were dyed blue and the fries were green. Yuck! Diners hurriedly pushed their plates away and several diners became physically ill.

I believe that color dramatically affects our sense of taste. I’ve long noticed the unappetizing quality of magazine food photographs where the color register is off or the color combinations are poor. Despite a strong affinity for the color blue, food magazine covers with lots of blues send me running.  On the other hand, covers dominated by reds and bright greens catch my eye and stimulate my appetite. Show me a photo of a bowl of juicy strawberries and I’m a happy camper.

This beautiful Smashed and Seared Beets recipe certainly hits all the right color notes with brilliantly-colored red and orange beets sitting atop a smooth white goat cheese crema and sauced with a bright green Chimichurri sauce.

There are rainbows of colorful beets now available in markets. Put some color on your table tonight with this great recipe. But, whatever you do, don’t let anyone slip you one of those nasty blue steaks.

Yields 4 Servings

Smashed and Seared Beets

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Ingredients

• Beet Salad Ingredients
• 1/2 C. (4 ounces) goat cheese (at room temperature)
• 3/4 C. heavy cream
• Fine sea salt
• 1 1/2 pounds small to medium beets
• 1 1/4 C. apple cider vinegar
• 2 garlic cloves (halved)
• 1 bay leaf
• 3 T. extra-virgin olive oil
• Freshly ground black pepper
• Baby arugula or baby spinach
• Chimichurri Ingredients
• 1/4 C. red wine vinegar
• 1 garlic clove (peeled)
• 1/4 t. crushed red pepper flakes
• 1/2 C. extra-virgin olive oil
• 1/2 C. fresh flat-leaf parsley leaves
• 1/2 C. fresh cilantro leaves (stems removed)
• 1/4 C. fresh basil leaves
• 1/4 t. ground cumin

Instructions

1. To make the beet salad, put goat cheese, cream and a pinch of salt in a medium bowl and whisk. Cover and refrigerate.
2. Put beets, 5 cups of water, cider vinegar, garlic, bay leaf, and 1 t. salt in a large saucepan and simmer over high heat. Once the water begins to vigorously simmer, partially cover the pot with a lid and continue to simmer until the beets are tender. This will take between 35 and 50 minutes depending upon the size of the beets. Remove the beets from the cooking water and let them cool.
3. Trim the cooled beets (but do not peel off the skin) and then smash them. I put the beets on my cutting board and used a large plate to smash them. You want them to be flattened but not smashed to the point of coming apart. Then, heat the olive oil in a large pan, add the beets and cook them undisturbed until the beet skins are crispy and caramelized. This will take about 3-4 minutes per side. (Turn the beets over once during cooking.) Season with salt and pepper.
4. To make the chimichurri sauce, combine all the ingredients in a blender and puree. Chill the sauce.
5. To assemble the dish, spread a thick layer of the goat cheese crema over the bottom of a large serving platter. Arrange the smashed beets over the top of the crema. Drizzle chimichurri over the dish and garnish with arugula or spinach. Serve with extra chimichurri sauce on the side.

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https://bluecayenne.com/smashed-and-seared-beets

This recipe was adapted from one in Cara Mangini’s cookbook The Vegetable Butcher, available for purchase on Amazon. (Amazon: The Vegetable Butcher)

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We have a lot of things to thank Julia Child for beyond the fact that she popularized French home cooking here in the U.S.

She made cooking cool. She pioneered a cooking show genre that has exploded into the countless cooking shows that eat up our time but feed our souls. She taught us that you don’t have to look like Giada De Laurentis to attract an adoring following. And then there was that part about spying against the Axis powers during WWII. (Lest you think I’m feeding you some fake news, here a credible source–The CIA (No. Not the Culinary Institute of America. The spies!) : https://www.cia.gov/news-information/featured-story-archive/2007-featured-story-archive/julia-child.html .

Julia also taught us to lighten up in the kitchen. Her obituary in the NY Times quotes this wonderful story: “Mr. Drummond, her producer, also debunks another myth. Mrs. Child never dropped a chicken or a turkey on ‘The French Chef.’ It was a potato pancake that flew onto the work table when she tried to flip it. She put it back in the pan, pressed it back into shape and said, ‘Remember, you are alone in the kitchen, and no one can see you.’ ”

So, I’m wishing you good luck making this marinara from Child’s collection of recipes. I suggest that you pretend that you are Julia Child, all six foot two of her, as you make the sauce. Have a good laugh while you are cooking. Keep your eyes open for the bad guys and remember, if you mess it up, you are alone in the kitchen and no one can see you.

Yields One quart

Julia’s Marinara Provencale

1 hr, 30 Total Time

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Ingredients

• 1/4 C. olive oil
• 2/3 C. finely minced yellow onions
• Kosher salt and black pepper
• 4 t. all-purpose flour
• 5-6 pounds ripe tomatoes (quartered)
• 1/8 t. sugar (more to taste)
• 4 cloves garlic (minced)
• A large herb bouquet of 8 sprigs parsley, 1 bay leaf and 4 sprigs thyme (tied in cheesecloth)
• 1/4 t. fennel seeds
• 1/2 t. dried basil, oregano, marjoram or savory
• Large pinch saffron threads
• 1 dozen coriander seeds (lightly crushed)
• 1 two-inch piece dried orange peel (I used fresh)
• 2-3 T. tomato paste (optional)

Instructions

1. Heat olive oil on medium-low heat in a large heavy pot. Sprinkle onions with salt and saute for about 10 minutes. You want the onions to be soft but not brown. Sprinkle flour into the pot over the onions, stir to mix and cook for about 3 minutes more (do not brown the flour mixture).
2. Use a grating blade in your food processor. Push the tomatoes through the processor tube and through the grating blade to make a rough puree. (I left my tomatoes a bit chunky.)
3. Stir tomatoes, sugar, garlic, herb bouquet, fennel, basil, saffron, coriander, orange peel and 1 teaspoon salt into the onion mixture. Cover and cook slowly for about ten minutes until the tomatoes give up their juices. Uncover and simmer for one hour. You want your sauce to be thick. Remove the herb bouquet and taste. Add salt, pepper, sugar and optional tomato paste. Stir.

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https://bluecayenne.com/julias-provencale-tomato-sauce

This recipe was adapted from one that appeared on the NT Times food site. Here is the link: NYTimes: Julia Child’s Provencale Tomato Sauce.

You can buy the book here: Mastering The Art of French Cooking at Amazon.

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Which “vegetable” is actually a berry, has the highest nicotine content among all vegetables, and is 95% water? (Hint: Chinese ladies once used the dye extracted from this vegetable’s skin to polish their teeth to a then-fashionable gray hue.)

It’s the eggplant. Who knew? (Don’t worry about the nicotine part, by the way. You would have to consume 20 pounds of eggplant to get the amount of nicotine in a single cigarette. That is more eggplant than even eurysome Chris Christie could eat in one sitting.)

Also called a brinjal (India), a melanzana (Italy) and an aubergine (France), the eggplant is a member of the nightshade family that includes tomatoes and potatoes. Native to Asia, the eggplant was introduced into Europe via Mediterranean trade. Thomas Jefferson is credited with introducing the eggplant to American tables and grew plants in his Virginia garden.

Historically, the reputation of the eggplant is a mix. On the one hand, there is a charming Japanese proverb that enthuses about dreaming of eggplant on New Year’s Eve: “The happiest omen for a new year is first Mt. Fuji, then the falcon, and lastly eggplant.” (I’m trying to imagine the storyline of such a dream. It might go something like this… With a cloud-shrouded Mt.Fuji looming majestically in the background, a solitary falcon soars soundlessly above the landscape. Suddenly, spotting its prey, the falcon stops mid-air and then swoops from the sky, only to find that he has targeted a single purple eggplant. Bummer for the falcon. No! Wait! The curious falcon notices that the eggplant is glowing–an enchanted orb.  Then, before the world-weary falcon’s eyes, the eggplant transforms into a lovely purple-gowned princess. The princess promptly falls in love with the lonely falcon and bestows upon him a single magical kiss whereupon the falcon morphs into a handsome Japanese prince. And today, if you look ever so carefully, you can see them– two lovers standing in luxuriant fields of eggplants growing on the slopes of Mt. Fuji and pondering their good fortune in life. The prince is now a wealthy anime mogul and the princess operates an elegant ryokan named L’aubergine. )

On the other hand, Medieval Europeans were wary of consuming eggplant, believing it was a poison that could cause madness. (The Italian word for eggplant is a variation on the term mad apple.)

The high season for eggplants is August to October, so you will find an abundance of eggplants (there are more than twenty varieties) in markets at the moment, and this recipe, adapted from Ottolenghi’s well-regarded cookbook Jerusalem, is both a delicious and beautiful way to ease into eggplant season.

Wishing you handsome princes and eggplant dreams.

Yields 4 Servings

Chermoula Eggplant with Bulgur and Yogurt

1 hr, 30 Total Time

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Ingredients

• 2 cloves garlic (crushed)
• 2 t. ground cumin
• 2 t. ground coriander
• 1 t. chili flakes
• 1 t. sweet paprika
• 2 T. finely-chopped preserved lemon peel (I used 1 t. lemon zest)
• 2/3 C. olive oil
• 2 medium eggplants
• 1 C. fine bulgur (I used coarse)
• 2/3 C. boiling water
• 1/2 C. golden raisins (or more to your taste)
• 3 1/2 T. warm water
• 2 t. cilantro (chopped)
• 2 t. mint (chopped)
• 1/3 C. pitted green olives (roughly chopped or halved)
• 1/3 C. sliced almonds (toasted)
• 3 green onions (chopped)
• 1 1/2 T. freshly squeezed lemon juice
• 1/2 C. Greek yogurt
• Salt
• Feta (crumbled) to garnish
• Pinenuts (toasted) to garnish
• Chopped cilantro to garnish
• A drizzle of good quality olive oil

Instructions

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.
2. Chermoula: Mix garlic, cumin, coriander, chili, paprika, lemon, 2/3 of the olive oil, and 1/2 t. salt in a bowl and set aside.
3. Cut eggplants in half lengthwise. Score the flesh of the eggplants and spoon chermoula sauce over each half, spreading evenly. With the cut side facing up, place eggplants on a baking sheet and roast the eggplant in the oven for about 40 minutes. (The eggplants should be totally soft when they are done.)
4. Put the bulgur in a bowl and pour boiling water over the bulgur. Let the bulgur sit and absorb the water while you finish the dish.
5. Put raisins in a bowl, add warm water and let them sit for about 10 minutes. Drain the raisins and discard the water. Add the soaked raisins to the bulgur and add remaining oil. Add cilantro, mint, olives, almonds, green onions, lemon juice and a pinch of salt. Stir. Taste and adjust salt if necessary.
6. Plate the eggplants and spoon bulgur mixture on top of each cooked eggplant half. Spoon on a dollop of yogurt. Garnish with feta, cilantro, and pine nuts. Drizzle a bit of olive oil over the eggplants. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Notes

You can find bulgur at Middle Eastern markets. I buy mine at the local Jon's Marketplace. The recipe calls for fine bulgur but I had coarse bulgar on my shelf and it worked fine.

The original recipe called for using preserved lemon peel. Preserved lemon peel is wonderful but I didn't have any in my pantry. I substituted the zest of a lemon.

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https://bluecayenne.com/of-eggplants-falcons-and-mt-fuji-chermoula-eggplant-with-bulgur-and-yogurt

Here is a link to Amazon and Ottolenghi’s book: Yotam Ottolenghi’s Jerusalem cookbook.

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