French Cucumber Salad with Sour Cream and Dill

I first had this dish many years ago in Lyons, France. It was prepared by an excellent cook who was also a medical researcher I was visiting. The salad was the cooling starter course for dinner on a warm summer evening. It’s easy to make, particularly if you use a vegetable slicer for slicing the cucumber. Although the salad was originally finished with crème fraiche (French cultured heavy cream), American sour cream or plain Greek-style yogurt do almost as well.

The recipe serves six as an appetizer course or side dish for dinner.

2 large regular cucumbers or one long (plastic sleeved) cucumber

8 ice cubes

1/2 teaspoon salt for preparing cucumber plus 3/4 teaspoon for seasoning the salad

1 small shallot or 1 large scallion (green onion)

1 tablespoon white vinegar (wine or distilled)

1 teaspoon sugar

1/8 teaspoon black pepper

2 tablespoons freshly minced dill (reserving 1 teaspoon of it for garnish)

1/4 cup crème fraiche, sour cream, or Greek yogurt

Peel cucumbers thinly, leaving some green color. Quarter them lengthwise. If the seeds are large, cut off and discard seed section. Slice cucumbers very thinly (a vegetable slicer makes this easier). 20 minutes before serving time, mix sliced cucumbers with ice cubes, enough water to reach the surface of the cucumbers, plus 1/2 teaspoon salt. Mix together gently and allow the mixture to sit for 5 minutes. Drain well.

Slice shallot or scallion (green part also) very thinly and add to the cucumber. Add vinegar, sugar, pepper, most of the dill, and 3/4 teaspoon salt. Stir well. Allow to sit at least 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Taste for salt and add a little if necessary.

Just before serving, drain away the juices. Add crème fraiche, sour cream or yogurt and mix in well. Taste and adjust salt, if necessary. Spoon into a shallow, attractive dish and dust with the reserved dill.

Chicken Sautéed with Fresh Herbs – Pollo alle Erbe

With fresh herbs lush in my garden right now, I was reminded of a delightful dish I first had many years ago in Tuscany outside Florence at the home of a college friend of my wife who had moved to Italy and married an Italian. Nancy cooked the dish while we talked and nibbled homegrown olives and oiled, garlic-rubbed bread. I remember that she sautéed the chicken in their own olive oil and deglazed the pan with local white wine. I can’t recall for sure if she finished the dish with cream, but I now do that. She probably didn’t use cream, which is not as common in Tuscan cooking as it is further north in Italy. More likely she finished the dish with grated Parmesan. But I’m sticking with cream.

She served the sautéed chicken with some sort of pasta. I also recall that she, her husband and I drank a light-bodied Chianti with dinner, that was made by a friend in their town.

For the chicken as I make it, a good accompaniment is a pasta or rice dish, or polenta or seasoned grits. A colorful vegetable like broccoli or asparagus goes well, as does a simple salad. At a fancy Italian dinner the salad would be served after the main course, but for a simpler meal, especially at home, the salad can be served with the main course. Italians would include bread freshly cut or torn off  the loaf to sop up the sauce.

A light-bodied red wine like Chianti or Pinot Noir or a fuller-bodied white wine like a Chardonnay or Viognier, in my opinion, pair nicely with this. Italians, especially at home, traditionally drink their wine from small tumblers rather than stem glasses.

The recipe serves six people, but leftovers are enjoyable.

1 1/2 pounds boneless skinless chicken breast (2 large or 3 medium breast halves)

1/2 teaspoon salt, 1/4 teaspoon black pepper plus 1/2 teaspoon cornstarch for the chicken

3 tablespoons (loosely packed) chopped fresh herbs (at least three of the following: chives, sage, marjoram, rosemary, thyme, oregano, basil, mint)

4 tablespoons thinly sliced shallot or onion

1 medium clove garlic, minced

2 teaspoons minced parsley for garnish

3 tablespoons olive oil

1/4 cup white wine

1/2 teaspoon salt for the sauce, plus more to taste

1/4 cup sour cream

1/4 cup water

Trim off fatty or tough parts from the chicken. Cut each breast piece lengthwise down the middle. Then slice each piece crosswise into 1/8-inch thick slices. Mix sliced chicken well with the salt, pepper, and cornstarch. Set aside.

Coarsely chop an assortment of at least three fresh herbs to make a total of 3 tablespoons. If using heavier-flavored herbs like rosemary, marjoram or thyme, use a little less of them and more of the lighter-bodied herbs. Set aside.

Prepare the shallot or onion and the garlic. Set them aside. Mince parsley leaves and set aside 2 teaspoons of them for eventual garnish.

Heat a large frying pan to medium hot. Add olive oil, and as soon as it’s hot, add the marinated chicken and stir and fry it until the color has fully changed. Add the prepared herbs, shallot or onion,  garlic, and 1/2 teaspoon salt. Stir the chicken well and cook one more minute while stirring. Add wine and stir and fry for another minute to dry down a little.

Add the sour cream and water, stir well while continuing to fry until boiling and sour cream is well mixed in. Remove from heat. Taste the sauce and add a little salt if needed.

Serve with pasta, rice, polenta or grits. Sprinkle with minced parsley. 

Roasted Butternut Soup

I’ve loved butternut squash since I first encountered it as a kid growing up in southern New England. My father, skilled at farming, tried the then new vegetable in our family garden, where I used to tag along and “help.” Butternut seed had just become available about 1950 (please don’t do the math), and butternut quickly replaced the traditional Hubbard as the favorite winter squash. Butternut is now grown throughout the world because of its excellent eating and storing qualities.

As its name indicates, the squash is both buttery and nutty in flavor. These features are most pronounced when the fruits are fully mature, with the skin thick and uniformly tan and the stem hard and dry. The flesh is then rich orange and sweet. Its luscious intensity is further enhanced by baking.

Where I grew up, we ate most winter squash boiled, mashed and slathered with butter, or occasionally baked with brown sugar or maple syrup, butter and spices. My mother, a skilled cook but who with four kids didn’t spend time on complex dishes (“if it takes more than one bowl or one pot it’s too fussy”), kept it simple. By contrast, I’ve made soups with butternut, as well as curries, gratins, ravioli filling, other pasta and rice dishes, and even a roasted butternut salad.

Here is an evocative favorite for the fall season, roasted butternut soup. It is not too difficult and shows the squash off to advantage.

The recipe serves six, but extra soup stores well and seems even better after a day or two. While typically served hot, butternut soup can also be eaten cold like its non-relative, gazpacho.

1 large or 2 medium butternut squash (about 2 pounds), ideally ripe and hard

1 small onion, finely diced

A 6-inch piece of celery, finely diced

6 tablespoons butter

5 cups chicken broth (low salt) or vegetable broth

1 1/2 teaspoons salt plus more to taste

1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper

1/4 teaspoon oregano

1/8 teaspoon ground cinnamon

A small pinch of ground cloves

(3 tablespoons cashew butter or ground cashews, optional)

Minced parsley or tiny sprouts (leafy parts) for garnish

Set oven for 350 degrees.

Cut butternut in half lengthwise and scoop out the seeds. Place squash, cut side up, on a baking sheet and roast it until tender when pierced with a toothpick. Let cool.

Meanwhile prepare the onion and celery and fry them gently in the butter using the pot in which you will make the soup. Stir frequently and fry until the vegetables are tender but not browned. Remove from the heat.

When the baked butternut is cooled somewhat, scoop all the flesh out from the skin. Place it, along with the fried onion-celery mixture and its butter in a food processor or blender (this may need to be in two batches), adding a little of the chicken or vegetable broth. Puree the mixture. Transfer it back into the pot. Add the remainder of the broth, the salt and spices (and cashew butter if used). Simmer for 4-5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Taste for salt, and add a little, if needed, to taste.

The soup can be served now, or refrigerated and served hot – or cold – later. Garnish with a little finely minced parsley or tiny leaves from baby sprouts.

Borscht – The beautiful beet soup

The classical “Russian” beet soup, borscht, is not actually Russian. Borscht was created in Ukraine in the 16th century, probably by Ukrainian Cossacks. It’s the beet variant of an earlier peasant soup of wild “hogweed,” from which the Ukrainian, and subsequently Russian, and our, name derives. In other words, that archetypal “Russian” soup actually came from the tough little country Russia is trying to take over. 

The Jewish version of borscht (Eastern European Jewry closely overlapped areas where the beet soup is made) usually omits meat. Mosaic Law forbids combining dairy – like borscht’s essential sour cream – and meat. Borscht was introduced to the US by Yiddish-speaking Ashkenazi Jews who migrated in large numbers from Ukraine, Belarus and Russia in the early 20th century. Thus borscht here is usually thought of as a fairly clear, simple vegetarian beet soup, even though in its native Ukraine the soup is substantially chunky and meaty.

Here, in support of  the beleaguered country where the soup originated, is a meaty Ukrainian-style borscht. I also suggest  how to prepare a non-meat version. Whichever way you make it, serve borscht with a generous dollop of sour cream, and maybe some fresh dill, to stir in as you savor the soup.

There is a culinary trick for making the soup as red as possible. The beets are cooked in the soup broth whole and unpeeled. Some color will leach into the broth, but cooking lightens it. When tender, the beets are removed, cooled, peeled and diced or grated to be re-added to the soup at the end. 

The recipe serves six to eight, but leftovers are great later. Serve hot in individual soup bowls, with a dollop of sour cream for diners stir in.

Ukrainian-Style Borscht, with Meat

1 to 1-1/2 pounds pork with bones, such as shoulder steak or shoulder “chops”

2 quarts water

1-1/2 pounds red beets

1/2 pound celery root (“celeriac”)

2 large carrots

1 medium-large onion

1/4 head red cabbage (green can be substituted)

1/2 teaspoon black pepper

1/4 teaspoon dry thyme

3 1/2 teaspoons salt, plus more to taste

5 tablespoons white or cider vinegar (5% acidity)

3 tablespoons sugar

Sour cream for serving

Sprigs of fresh dill (optional) for garnish

Cut the pork into large chunks and keep the bones. Bring meat and bones to a boil with the water in a soup pot, then allow to simmer.

Rinse the beets, then without peeling them, add them to the simmering meat. Saving both the peels and roots, peel the celeriac and cut off the entangled root sections. Rinse the peels and roots in a bowl of water, allowing any sand to settle to the bottom. Add the peels and roots to the simmering meat and beets to flavor the broth. Allow the pot to simmer, covered, for half an hour or more, depending on the size of the beets. With a toothpick pierce several beets to test for tenderness. When they are tender, remove them with a slotted spoon to a bowl.

Remove and save the meat and bones. Strain the broth into a bowl, and discard the celeriac peels and roots. Measure the broth and return it to the soup pot, and add enough water to make 2 quarts.

Cut the meat off the bones and cut it into 1/4-inch pieces. Add the cut-up meat to the broth. Discard the bones.

Cut the peeled celeriac into 1/4-inch cubes. Peel the carrots and cut then into 1/4-inch pieces. Peel the onion. Halve it then slice it 1/4-inch wide then cut the slices into 1/4-inch pieces. Add these three vegetables to the broth and bring it back to a boil. Reduce the heat so that the soup simmers. Skim off any foam that forms.  Add the pepper and thyme but not the salt. Simmer, stirring occasionally until the vegetables are tender, 10-12 minutes. 

Meanwhile, cut out the core of the cabbage, and cut cabbage first into 1/4-inch slices then crosswise into 1/4-inch pieces. Set aide. Peel the cooked beets and cut the beets into 1/4-inch cubes. Set aside separate from the cabbage.

When the simmering vegetables are tender, add the cut-up cabbage. Simmer it until it is becoming tender, 10 minutes or so. Add the salt, and simmer a few more minutes, until the cabbage is fully tender. Add the reserved, diced cooked beets plus the vinegar and sugar. Bring to a boil and simmer one minute. Remove from the heat.

Skim off any foam from the surface. Taste the broth and several pieces of vegetable. Add a little salt if needed. Add a little more vinegar and/or sugar if needed to make it sweet-sour to your taste. The soup can be served now or, when cool, refrigerated and reheated later.

Serve hot in wide soup dishes. Place several tablespoons of sour cream in the center of each bowl of soup. If desired, place a sprig of dill on top of the sour cream.

Vegetarian Borscht

This version of the soup can be eaten hot or chilled. It is made without meat, but the “umami” quality is replaced by simmering in some mushrooms. Mushrooms, freshly gathered in the woods in summer, and dried mushrooms during the rest of the year, are common cooking ingredients in Eastern Europe.

Check the head notes at the start of the meat version of the soup, above. Follow that recipe, but omit the meat. Simmer the beets plus the celeriac peels and roots as above. Handle the beets as above, and strain out the celeriac peels and roots as above.

Add 1/2 pound of fresh mushrooms, either regular white or “Baby Bella,” cut into 1/4 inch dice to the other cubed vegetables in the recipe above.

Whether served hot or cold, add the sour cream to the soup bowls for diners to stir in.

Thai Spicy Pork (or Chicken) Dipping Sauce for Vegetables (Nam Prik Ong)

I learned about Nam Prik Ong, a classic northern Thai appetizer, from my sister in law, Nai, who is from Chiang Mai, where it is a specialty. This is a milder and simpler Bangkok version of the original dish, which in the north has the heavy flavor of toasted shrimp paste and can be incredibly hot. 

It’s a colorful, savory appetizer or snack and pulls a role reversal, in that meat garnishes vegetables. Crispy fried pork rinds and lumps of steamed sticky rice are traditionally dipped into the sauce as is raw cabbage, string beans, cucumbers, and small green eggplants. Slices of pineapple are also delightful for dipping. 

For simplicity I like serving it with Boston-type lettuce, plus fried pork rinds, the Mexican chicharron. The recipe serves six.

3/4 pound of pork or chicken breast (or ground pork or chicken)

1 large shallot, finely minced

2 medium-large cloves garlic, finely minced

1 tablespoon finely sliced then minced lemon grass (the fat part) (lemon grass is available

fresh at Asian groceries; if not available, simply omit from recipe)

1 1/2 tablespoons vegetable oil, such as canola or peanut

2 tablespoons Thai red curry paste (available in cans at Asian groceries; store the

remainder in a plastic bag in the freezer)

1/4 teaspoon crushed dry red pepper or cayenne (optional)

18 grape tomatoes or 14 cherry tomatoes, chopped coarsely

3/4 cup water

4 teaspoons Asian fish sauce (available at Asian groceries)

1 teaspoon palm or brown sugar (palm sugar available at Asian groceries)

2 tablespoons lime (or lemon) juice

A large sprinkle of ground white or black pepper

Cilantro (coriander leaf) for garnish

Fried pork rinds for dipping (optional)

A few vegetables for dipping, small lettuce leaves, cucumber, string beans, cabbage, and (optionally) small Thai green eggplants and a few slices of pineapple

On a cutting board, trim away any tough parts from the meat. Slice the meat then chop it finely with a chef’s knife or cleaver. (Or use freshly ground meat.)  Finely mince the shallot, garlic and lemon grass together on cutting board (or pound them to a paste together in a mortar or chop them finely in a food processor with a little water).

In a frying pan or wok over medium-low heat, stir and fry oil and curry paste for a minute. Add shallot mixture and fry, scraping frequently, until shallot is translucent and starts to turn golden, 3 to 4 minutes. Add meat and break it up. Raise the heat and fry mixture until meat color has changed. Add chopped tomatoes and fry for several minutes. Add the water, cover and simmer over low heat 10 to 15 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the excess liquid has dried. Stir in the fish sauce and sugar. Remove pan from the heat and add lime juice. After several minutes, taste the mixture and add salt if necessary to make it slightly salty. Let cool and spoon into a decorative bowl for serving. Sprinkle with cilantro leaves.

 Serve with lettuce leaves to stuff with the mixture, or more traditionally cut a bit of cabbage into several 3-inch wedges, cut off ends of beans, slice cucumber, eggplant, and pineapple, if used. Arrange vegetables in groups on a platter around the pot of sauce, along with pork rinds, if used, plus sprigs of cilantro.

Easy Berry Topping or Sauce

For an easy dessert, like store-bought ice cream or angel food cake, a raspberry, or strawberry or mixed berry sauce is a great topping. Using store-bought frozen, or fresh, berries, making the sauce takes just a few minutes, plus a few more minutes to cool.

The typical packages of frozen berries are 12 ounces, and the fresh berries are a pint. Both work with this recipe. I prefer organic berries, to avoid the pesticides that are often used on these crops.

12 ounces frozen or 1 pint fresh berries (raspberries, blackberries, strawberries, blueberries, or mixed berries), organic preferred

2 1/2 tablespoons brown sugar for 12 ounces of frozen fruit OR 1/2 tablespoons brown sugar for a pint of fresh berries

1/8 teaspoon salt

If using frozen berries, place them directly in a small enamel or stainless steel cooking pot. If using fresh berries, remove any leaves or stems and place the fruit in the pot. Add the brown sugar and salt.

Heat to a boil over medium heat, stirring frequently, and cook until fruit is becoming tender. Turn off the heat and break up the berries somewhat with a potato masher or fork. Let cool.

The sauce will keep, refrigerated, for a week or more.

Serve over your choice of ice cream, sherbet, cake, cheesecake, pudding, or even pancakes. An optional additional topping is whipped cream.

Lentil Dip in Ancient Style

Lentils, one of my favorite foods, go way back. I mean waaaay back. Lentils were among the first crops at the dawn of agriculture the Fertile Crescent some 6,000 years ago. Like other ancient field crops – barley, peas, emmer wheat – lentils emerged from wild predecessors, whose seeds were hard to gather. Early settled people accidentally replanted some of those wild seeds by discarding them near the garbage heap. Gradually, people began intentionally planting seeds saved from the previous harvest. As they reseeded from their better-performing plants their crops improved.

In that same era, another major breakthrough occurred in the Fertile Crescent. Terracotta (“baked earth”) pots were created by shaping then baking clay. Such pots permitted boiling and stewing food. It’s probably no coincidence that clay pots for cooking (and brewing!) co-evolved with the production of grains and legumes, which benefited from cooking. They made each other more valuable.

I started making appetizers from red lentils (tan/gray-green lentils that have had their skin-like hulls removed) when I joined my daughter, Maria Dondero, of Southern Star Studio, in her talks on pottery making. It’s customary in artistic circles to offer refreshments at “openings,” lectures, and demonstrations. Dips made from lentils and served from a terracotta dish humorously paired again that legume with pottery.

Here is a dip of red lentils (yellow when cooked) that draws on their history, using only ingredients that go back at least 4,000 years in the region where lentils originated. Besides lentils, these include onion, olive oil, coriander, cilantro (yes, probably the first herb used culinarily in the western world), wine vinegar, honey and sea salt. I obviously can’t guarantee that such a dip was actually made during the past 4,000 years, but it could have been.

The dip can be presented on a terracotta dish. The recipe serves six to eight as an appetizer.

1 cup split red lentils

1/2 of a small onion, very finely diced (3-4 tablespoons)

3 tablespoons olive oil, plus more for garnishing

2 cups water, plus more as needed

1 teaspoon sea salt, plus more if needed

1/2 teaspoon ground coriander

2 teaspoons wine vinegar (or cider vinegar)

1 teaspoon honey

1 tablespoon coarsely chopped cilantro leaf, for garnish

Rinse the lentils, and soak them in water to cover by an inch or more while preparing the remaining ingredients.

In a pot, gently fry the onion in the olive oil, stirring frequently, until softened but not browned. Drain the lentils, and add them to the pot, along with 2 cups of water, Bring to a gentle boil, stirring frequently and scraping the bottom of the pot. Simmer, stirring occasionally, until the lentils soften and break down (10-20 minutes). Add a little water from time to time, if needed, to maintain a creamy consistency.

Once the lentils have softened, add the salt and coriander, and continue to simmer, stirring often, for 10 minutes. Add the vinegar and honey, and simmer another minute or two. Taste, and if needed add salt to taste.

Cool. Serve in a small bowl or serving dish. Drizzle with a little olive oil and sprinkle with chopped cilantro. Accompany with crackers.