Love in the Time of Sunchokes

I hadn't done it in some time, not since we moved in together, at least. Valentine's Day seemed like the perfect excuse, and the sunchokes at the market were calling my name anyway.

I don't cook at home often enough, and when I do it's usually not very impressive. I can do incredible things with ramen. Us moving in together was supposed to spur my cooking motivation; "I don't want to make something fancy just for me, but if someone else got to enjoy it too... ", but the hours in the day have a way of getting away from you. She's probably lucky that the Ballard Farmer's Market happened to be on a Sunday.

When I don't know what I want to cook a trip to the market always serves to inspire. It usually only takes one ingredient, and once I see it the menu starts to form in my head. This time it was the sunchokes. Also known as Jerusalem artichokes, these knotty root vegetables look a lot like ginger, and taste something like artichoke flavored potato. They're delicious when peeled and roasted, but I wanted to do something different: something that looked familiar at first, so that their curious flavor would be more pronounced when she tried it. A sauce was the perfect way to go. I still roasted them, but once they were done they went into the blender along with some chicken stock, Greek yogurt, and lemon juice. I'd prepared the whole sauce in my head before I even paid for the little guys, but what to serve it with?

Market pickings can be pretty slim in winter, but the one thing we always have in spades is potatoes: little ones, big ones, red, blue, and pink ones. Cora's always had a love for crispy potatoes, whether in French fry or hashbrown form, and I thought some fried diced potatoes would play nicely with the sauce. The next ingredient that caught my eye at the market was sunflower sprouts. I hadn't worked with them before, but I knew exactly where I wanted them to go. As I stood there staring at the mound of sprouts I mentally took a handful, tossed it with lemon, olive oil, and salt, then pictured myself tasting them with my crispy potatoes and sunchoke sauce. It worked, and now the only thing I was missing was the protein. My original thought was a game hen, but once I got to the grocery store I saw some beautiful pieces of sockeye salmon. This was pure luck, as it reminded me that we'd been sitting on a bottle of rosé we'd picked up on one of our trips... a bottle we'd bought and held onto specifically to pair with salmon someday. I closed my eyes and seared the salmon in my mind, then put it on top of my potatoes and sauce, under my sunflower sprouts. I paid and headed home with high hopes that the food I was about to prepare would be as delicious on the plate as it was in my head.

I got home and moved all the furniture out of the living room. I dragged the dining table into the center, tied a big red bow around it and put a bouquet of roses in the middle. Then I filled the living room with pink balloons and lit every candle I could find. I put on a shirt, a vest, a tie, and laid out a dress for Cora. I made sure to have appetizers out: hummus, tabbouleh, tomato salad, toasted pita, and marinated olives. I opened a bottle of champagne.

When she got home and came in the kitchen she knew something was up. Maybe it was the appetizers and soft music, or maybe she realized that I don't often cook in my Sunday best. Either way, she was definitely surprised when she walked into the living room to see that I'd converted it into our own private restaurant for the evening. So I sent her away to don her evening attire and got started on dinner. We shared our appetizers in the kitchen while I cooked and she talked about her day, and her excitement was obvious as she took pictures of everything from the table to the food to the balloons to me cooking. I finished the fish and plated the food, and we adjourned to our candle-lit living room.

Nothing gets my ego going quite like those moments when my food comes out just like I'd pictured it, and this was definitely one of those times. The salmon was cooked perfectly. The potatoes were crispy on the outside, browned along their edges, and soft like mash on the inside. The sauce was flawlessly smooth and creamy not unlike a good bechamel, with the yogurt making it thick and firm on the plate yet light and fluffy on the tongue. The sunflower sprouts were crunchy with a slight peppery flavor, and that along with the lemon juice balanced out the sweeter richer flavors of salmon, potato, and sunchoke. She loved it. I loved it. I'd totally nailed it.

Seared Salmon with Crispy Potatoes and Sunchoke Puree

Sunchoke Sauce

• 1/2 lb sunchokes, peeled and cut into 1" chunks
• 1 Tbsp Canola oil
• 1/3 - 1/2 cup chicken stock
• 1/4 cup Greek yogurt
• 1 Tbsp lemon juice
• salt and white pepper to taste

Potatoes

• 2 cups potatoes, diced (if you can't find multi-colored potatoes then use Yukon golds)
• 1/4 cup Canola oil
• salt and pepper to taste

Salmon

• 1 lb fresh sockeye salmon, pin bones removed
• 2 Tbsp Canola oil
• salt and pepper to taste

Sunflower Sprout Salad

• 1 cup sunflower sprouts (or substitute other hearty sprouts or micro-greens)
• 1/4 cup parsley, coarsely chopped
• 1 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil
• 1 Tbsp fresh lemon juice
• salt to taste

To prepare the sunchoke sauce preheat an oven to 400 degrees. Toss sunchokes with oil, salt, and white pepper then roast until completely soft all the way through, about 40 minutes. Transfer to a blender, add remaining ingredients, and puree until smooth. Set aside. To cook the potatoes preheat a skillet over medium high heat, add 1/4 cup oil and let this preheat as well, about a minute. Add potatoes and cook, stirring regularly until almost cooked through, about 5-10 minutes, depending on size, then turn up to high and cook until the outsides are browned and crispy. Remove from pan with a slotted spoon and keep warm in your oven. In a separate oven-safe pan over medium high heat add 2 Tbsp oil. Season the salmon with salt and pepper and sear flesh side down until it just begins brown. Flip salmon and transfer to the oven to finish cooking, 5 minutes or more depending on thickness. While the salmon is finishing combine sprouts, parsley, lemon juice, and olive oil in a small bowl. Season with salt. To serve pour the sauce onto the plate first (it may need to be re-warmed in a microwave briefly), top with potatoes, followed by the salmon, and finally the sprouts in a small bundle on the very top. Enjoy with wine and the loved one of your choice.

Berry Bonds

Berries are one of my favorite end-of-the-season ingredients. Growing up, it was always around this time of year that my mother would make us cobbler using fresh picked blackberries from our driveway. I've never even tried to make her recipe myself; it just wouldn't be the same. Nonetheless, I have found a few ways of putting these late summer fruits to good use. I think we've all seen a classic creme brulee topped with fresh seasonal berries, but this recipe takes it to the next level by adding some gently cooked local Tra Zee peaches to the bottom of the ramekin before pouring in the custard. The Tra Zee is a late season peach with an excellet color and delicious flavor; perfect to pair with blackberries and raspberries, which can often still be found this late in the season. In this case, we used golden instead of red raspberries (they looked so good at the market, we just couldn't walk past them), but feel free to use whatever is available and fresh in your area.

Late Season Creme Brulee

• 4 large egg yolks
• 4 Tbsp sugar
• 1/2 tsp vanilla
• 2 cups heavy cream
• brown sugar for caramelizing (If available use "Sugar in the Raw")
• 1 pint fresh local berries

Cook peaches over medium heat in several tablespoons of liquid until soft (we used water for this, but white wine or orange juice would be a great way to incorporate another layer of flavor. If your peaches are especially ripe then this step may be omitted). Spoon peaches into each of four ramekins. Return pan to heat and add cream. In a separate pan combine eggs, sugar, and vanilla. Once cream begins to simmer pour into egg mixture and bring up to medium heat, stirring constantly. Cook until mixture coats the back of a spoon, about 12 minutes. Once mixture has thickened divide between ramekins and place in referigerator to cool (1-2 hours). At this point the custard should be firm to the touch. Set oven to broil and sprinkle custard-filled ramekins with brown sugar. Broil for 2-3 minutes, or until sugar has completely melted and caramelized. Remove from heat, alow caramel to harden, top with fresh berries and serve.

Homemade Blackberry Liqueur

On the other hand if you grow your own fruit and find yourself wondering what to do with all of it, or if you just want to hang on to the flavors of the season throughout the winter, a simple liqueur like this one is just the trick. It will last all through this winter and well into next one, and it serves as an excellent reminder of warmer days on those chilly evenings that are fast approaching. Simply take about a pint of ripe fruit (I used blackberries, but feel free to use anything thats in season and ripe.) and combine with one bottle of the liquor of your choice. Let sit in a cool, dark place for 2-3 weeks, strain through a cheesecloth, and add simple syrup (1 part sugar to 1 part water, heated to dissolve) to taste; somewhere around a cup or two. Allow this to mellow for several months.

I've used Southern Comfort here because its sweeter and has the caramel and orange notes that remind me of the holidays. You could use just about any type of whiskey, but not scotch. Rum will give you a slightly sweeter finished product. Vodka will give you a much cleaner berry flavor, but without as much complexity. If you want an especially sweet cordial you could start with everclear and add some extra fruit. This will allow you to add twice as much simple syrup later with out letting the alcohol content drop to low. I've been fairly vague about measurements because its all a matter of taste, and half the fun is experimenting with different combinations. Try adding some other flavors to the mix before straining: cloves, whole alspice, star anise, whole almond, ginger, orange peel, etc.

End of the Season

It's official, fall is finally upon us. After last week's rain here in Seattle there's no denying it and, while some may be sad to see the end of our Indian summer, I've been ready. Fall brings with it an entirely different kind of cooking; that heart-warming food that reminds us all of home.

I'm in Bellevue this weekend and, as with many places, the farmer's market is quickly coming to a close for the year. Taking andvantage of what little time is left I decide to pick up some local squash. These firm, starchy fruits of autumn lend themselves to the slow-cooking methods that, for me, represent the season. Toss in some chicken thighs, onion, and herbs and you have a meal to take the chill off even the coldest of days.

Braised Chicken Thighs and Squash with Sauteed Mustard Greens:

We used three types of squash here; buttercup, delicata, and carnival, each with slightly different firmness and, therefore, different cooking times. In the case of this recipe, however, cooking them all together and allowing some squash to become a little "overcooked" while others retain their shape lends body to the braising liquid and only serves to make the finished product even more delicious

Chicken Thighs and Squash

• 4 Tbsp butter, unsalted
• 2 Tbsp rosemary, chopped
• 2 Tbsp sage, chopped
• 1 medium onion, diced
• 4 cups seasonal squash, peeled and cut into 1/2 in. pieces
• 1 Tbsp cider vinegar
• 1 cup chicken broth
• 1/4 cup heavy cream
• 1 Tbsp canola oil
• 4 bone-in chicken thighs
• salt and pepper to taste

Mustard Greens

• 1 Tbsp butter, unsalted
• 2 Tbsp minced garlic
• 1 tsp red pepper flakes
• 1 bunch Mustard greens, stems removed
  
• salt and pepper to taste
Melt 4 Tbsp butter in a pot over medium-high heat. Add herbs and saute briefly to release aroma (aprrox. 1 minute). Add onion and cook until lightly browned, then add squash and toss to coat with butter and herbs, cooking for 4-6 minutes. Deglaze with cider vinegar, scraping the bottom of the pot to release any browned bits, then add chicken broth and cream. Cover and reduce heat to medium low.
In a large saute pan on medium high heat add 1 Tbsp canola oil. While the oil is heating season chicken thighs liberally with salt and pepper. Sear thighs on each side (skin side first) and add to the pot of squash, forcing them to the bottom of the pot. Replace the lid and braise for 20-30 minutes, or until chicken and squash are cooked through.
When the chicken and squash is finshed braising melt 1 Tbsp butter in a saute pan over medium-high heat. Add garlic and red pepper flakes and cook briefly (1-2 minutes), then add mustard greens and toss gently to coat with melted butter. Cook for about 2 more minutes, or until greens are gently wilted. Remove from heat and portion greens onto each plate. Remove chicken thighs from pot, plate, and top each with cooked squash and brasing liquid.

Market Dish for Under $20

For me, there's no better way to spend a Sunday morning than perusing the Ballard farmer's market. It's a great way to support the local growers and, inevitably, inspires me to create a fresh, organic, seasonal dish. To up the challenge a bit i bring with me a single $20 bill and see how far I can make it go.



Lobster mushrooms have a relatively short season, but a terrific flavor and texture. Seeing them here took me in the direction of a tomato-mushroom ragout, one of my favorite ways of preparing wild mushrooms. I backed these up with some chantrelles, which have a notably longer season and a more familiar flavor.

Wild Mushrooms: $5


Realizing that I wanted the vessel for my ragout to be a thick slice of toasted rustic bread, I decided to pick up some tangy red pepper crusted goat cheese to smear on my toasts, contrasting the sweet-savory ragout.

Chevre Goat Cheese: $6

On my way to the tomatoes I came across these sweet pimiento peppers. I couldn't help but pick one up, knowing that they would help to reinforce the sweetness of the ragout and round out the flavor.

Pimiento Pepper: $1

Once I finally got around to picking up the tomato and onion I would need, I noticed a large crate of lemon cucumbers. Slightly larger than a golfball, this variety of cucumber is sweeter and milder than its green cousin. While I haven't had many opportunities to work with these, I have found it does suprisingly well when added to warm dishes, though itself shouldn't necessarily be cooked. I bought two; one to play with now, and one to play with later.

Tomato: $.75
Onion: $.75
Lemon Cucumbers: $1



So with my last $5.50 I figured it was time to get the bread and get out of there. Tall Grass Bakery was just a few stalls down, and their artisanal breads make a meal feel like it came from the market. I picked out a big crusty loaf of sourdough, paid, and put my one remaining quarter in my pocket before heading home to the kitchen.

Baker Street Sourdough Bread: $5.25

Tomato-Mushroom Ragout on Rustic Sourdough:

Ragout

• 3 Tbsp unsalted butter
• 1 small onion, medium dice
• 1 pimiento (or small red bell) pepper, medium dice
• 1 medium tomato, large dice
• 2 cups wild mushrooms
• 2 sprigs fresh thyme
• 2 sprigs fresh rosemary
• salt and pepper to taste

Sourdough Toasts

• 6-8 thick slices rustic sourdough bread
• melted butter or oil
• fleur de sel
• chevre (or any soft, creamy cheese)

Garnish

• lemon cucumbers (or green cucumbers if not available), fine julienne

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Melt butter in an oven-safe pan (cast iron or steel, no Teflon) over medium-high heat. Add onions and cook until translucent, then add peppers and stir to combine. Cook for 2 minutes, then place whole herb sprigs into the pan (these will be removed later). Once the herbs begin to give off their aroma (2-3 minutes) add the tomatoes, sprinkle with salt and cook briefly to allow the them to release their juice. Next, add the wild mushrooms, stir, and place pan in the oven for approximately 20 minutes, or until mushrooms are cooked thoroughly.

While the ragout is cooking spread each slice of bread with oil or butter and sprinkle lightly with salt, then place on a sheet pan. Once the ragout is finished discard the herb sprigs, switch the oven to broil and move ragout pan to the very bottom rack of the oven to keep warm. Toast the bread slices on the top rack of the oven until golden brown, then remove from heat and spread each slice with chevre.
Arrange toasts on a plate and load each one generously with ragout. Finish by topping with julienned cucumber and serve.
See the rest of my photos from the market