Wild Risotto with Fiddleheads

Yesterday, I had jury duty in downtown Boston. I had to be there by 8am, and the new courthouse has no parking lot. Daytime, weekday parking in Boston is the same as it is in any major city: expensive. So, I had to take the T, which was no hassle at all, really. But, it did sort of turn me around a bit, since I'm more used to driving. I definitely got a different picture of my city traveling on the bus and T.

We were given a generous lunch break -- 2 hours. I really don't know the Haymarket area too well, despite the popular farmers' market that populates the area every Saturday (it's not that great -- not necessarily local produce, kind of a rude atmosphere). AND despite the fact that I've been here plenty of times before. I guess I was just so nervous about getting there on time and getting on a case that I wasn't paying enough attention.

I completely spaced out on how close I was to the North End. Yes, THE North End. The oldest neighborhood in Boston. The one with all the Italian restaurants. WAH! Instead of eating THERE, I ended up at some crappy sub joint that served me the worst eggplant parm sub I've every had. Flavorless. Not enough sauce, limp, milky bread that nonetheless cut the roof of my mouth. Bleck. Oh, I could have done SO much better!

When I got home (didn't get picked for a jury, btw), I decided that I needed risotto to make up for my missed Italian opportunity. I recently bought some fiddleheads, so I decided to add them to a basic risotto recipe with some wild mushrooms and other wild/garden herbs for a hearty, wild-crafted version of the Italian fave. I also used short grain sweet brown rice, which I find has great flavor and will get creamy if you make a commitment to stirring. This recipe serves me about 3 times; double it for a family.

Wild Risotto

2 tbs. unsalted butter

1 small onion, diced

4-8 oz. chopped wild mushrooms

4-5 c. simmering turkey stock (or chicken, or veg., etc.)

1 c. short grain brown rice, arborio, or other short grain rice (never long grain)

1/2 c. washed, blanched fiddleheads

1/4 c. dry white wine

1/2 c. grated parmesan cheese

1/4 c. chopped snow pea sprouts

1/4 c. chopped herbs -- go wild with sorrel or "classic Italian" with basil. I used both.

salt and pepper to taste

chive blossoms for garnish

1. Make sure you've washed and blanched the fiddleheads, dunking them in ice-water after a minute of blanching to ensure that they do not over cook by the end of the cooking process.

2. Set the stock to simmer. You can add a bit of water to stretch it out.

3. Melt 1 tbs. of butter in a heavy, large sauce pan.

4. Add onions and mushrooms and cook until they become soft.

5. Add the rice and stir to coat the kernels in butter and juices. This will burn easily if you don't pay attention. Keep the burner on medium. You want the risotto to cook gently -- high enough so that cooking does not stop when you add liquid, but low enough for the rice to break down and release some gluten, which is what makes the dish creamy.

6. Add the wine and stir. Cook for about 3 minutes or until the rice starts to look chalky. If using brown rice, this might take a bit longer (I do a blasphemous thing with brown rice -- I cover the pan for a few minutes, just to speed up this part. Then, I remove the lid and make sure I stir well throughout the rest of the cooking).

7. Add 1 c. of stock at a time, stirring almost continuously, until the stock is almost completely absorbed. You can tell it's ready to add more stock when you drag the spoon across the bottom of the pan and it leaves a "path" that slowly fills back in with the risotto. You'll probably add liquid every 10-20 minutes, depending on how high your burner/patience is.

8. When the stock is nearly finished, add the fiddleheads and stir gently.

9. When the stock has been used up, add the last tablespoon of butter and stir. See how magically creamy it is! Remove from heat.

10. Add your cheese and fresh greens -- the snow peas and herbs. Taste and then add salt and pepper to adjust seasoning.

11. Garnish with chive blossoms!

:-| Where are all the fiddleheads?

Where did March go? I have to apologize for not writing in such a long time. My PhD program started in March, and with all the usual semester craziness, I've just been either too busy to blog. What is really unfortunate to me is that this seems to be a pattern -- midsemester is just a bad time for me to try to keep up with the blog. In addition, I feel badly that I let the challenges wane, not to mention the fact that I haven't published anything from or about my Food Ethics students. I also want to do a redesign, but perhaps that will be best accomplished when school lets out in May.

So, to tide readers over until I post more, check out this page on tumeric from Joyful Belly. I'm doing my annual spring cleanse, so this article is well-timed. Seth has been making some fantastic Indian food with lots of tumeric, so I'll see if he would be willing to post a recipe.

Speaking of Seth, he and I went looking for fiddleheads last weekend! Alas, they were too small to be of any use to us, but to all of you out there, this is the time when they are starting to become available, so get out into that woods behind your yard and get some fiddleheads!

Interesting Links

Fiddlehead season will not last much longer. Even though you will continue to find them in supermarkets for at least a few weeks, really, if you take a walk through local wooded areas, the shoots have unfurled and become ferns. There may be a few late stands here and there, but the fiddlehead crop has probably been picked by now. If you're buying fiddleheads a month from now, make sure they are tightly furled and bear in mind that they may have been sitting around for a couple of weeks (at least).

In order to suck the juice out of fiddlehead season, check out these links. The first is an older article about fiddleheads from the NY Times. It was actually published when I was a junior in high school -- hey, what's old is new, right? It's quite elegantly written and reminds me of why newspapers are still so vital to our culture. The second is the blog of a PhD student who is studying, what else, ferns! And the blog is just about ferns. Ah, love. Nothing can compare. ;)

Food of the Wild Soup

I’ve wanted to make something like this for a long time: collect several wild edibles and put them together into a great-tasting dish.  Here, I’ve combined fiddleheads, stinging nettles, shitakes (yeah, well, they’re wild somewhere; I don’t know my wild mushrooms well enough to be safe) and arame (Japanese sea vegetable) for a soup in honor of the wild foods of both land and sea.

Food of the Wild Soup

First, soak about ½ cup of arame in cool water for 10-15 minutes. If you do this first, by the time you finish the other steps, the arame should have plumped up to twice its original size, which means it’s ready.

While that’s happening, please heed the warnings and follow the directions for preparing nettles seen here.

After you’re done blanching the nettles, you’ll need to do the same for the fiddleheads (but a minute or two, once, is long enough).

Next, you need a dashi, which is a Japanese broth flavored with sea vegetable (usually kombu) and bonito flakes. If you don’t have these weird ingredients – I never do – use a vegetable stock and improvise with some dried nori (the seaweed they wrap sushi in) and some fish sauce (or fish stock). Put 4 cups of dashi/stock on the back burner, add some grated ginger if you like (I like) and a teaspoon of soy sauce, and just let it start simmering.

Meanwhile, heat a small amount of oil (not olive oil, here. Safflower, grapeseed, peanut would work) in a skillet. Add 5 or 6 chopped shitake caps and 1 small leek, sliced (white part only). Add a pinch of salt and a dash of sake (optional).

Add the fiddleheads and nettles, season with salt and black pepper and stir to incorporate.

When the shitakes are slightly browned, add mixture to the dashi. Keep heat low. Add the arame.

Before serving, take about ¼ cup of the broth and add to 2-3 tablespoons of red miso to dissolve. Add the dissolved miso back to the pot, stir and serve.

I serve this with udon noodles, which I prepare separately to prevent them from sucking up all the liquid in the soup.

Here are some other articles and comments about nettles:

"The Common Stinging Nettle" by Euell Gibbons, writing for Vermont Weathervane

"Stinging nettles -- I cooked them and lived!" at Chowhound

"Stinging Nettles Need a New Name!" at OrganicMania

"Mini Specialist| Food Found: Stinging Nettles" by William Snyder, writing for WSJ

Check out these recipes:

Nettles pasta with fava beans, from No Recipes

Spring Tonic Nettles Soup, from Wild Food Ways

Tricia's Vegetable Tart . . . with Fiddleheads, mais oui

I have never gone wrong with this tart. I have made it many different ways: with swiss chard and mushrooms, with kale and asparagus, with shallots or onions carmellized in balsamic vinegar, with a whole wheat crust -- it's such a versatile, forgiving winner. Even my dad loved it. I packed up two slices for my parents as they were getting ready to go to Wells, ME for the weekend, and my dad "sampled" a corner of a piece and then proceeded to eat the rest of it.

Here's the recipe for the tart I served yesterday.

Vegetable Tart with Fiddleheads

 1 ¾ c. flour

¾ tsp. salt

1/2 c. extra-virgin olive oil

1/3 c. cold water

2 tbs. olive oil

1 med. leek, sliced, white and light green parts only

2 cloves garlic, minced

¾ - 1 lb. spinach, chopped

½ -3/4 c. fiddleheads

salt and pepper to taste

3 large eggs, lightly beaten

1/3 c. cottage cheese

1 c. grated Parmesan cheese

 

Preheat the oven to 425.

Make the crust. Whisk the flour and salt with a fork. Stir in oil and water. Dough will come together in a ball but will be too sticky to roll – press into pie plate. Puncture a few times with fork and bake for about 10-15 minutes.

 Make the vegetables: Heat the oil. Sweat the leeks for about 5 minutes. Add the spinach and fiddleheads, s&p to taste. Sautee until spinach is wilted but still bright.

 

Make the custard and finish: Mix the eggs with the cheeses. Pour in the vegetables. Pour into the pre-baked pie crust.

Bake at 375 for 25-35 minutes. Let cool to room temperature before serving. Serves 6-8.

Cream of Cauliflower and Fiddlehead Soup

Fiddleheads make an unusual appearance in a standard cream of cauliflower soup. Just make sure you don't overcook the fiddleheads. Reserve some of the smaller fiddleheads before you puree the soup. 

I made this soup at my parents' house yesterday. Mom's been moving away from cooking, sadly, so I didn't have access to a blender -- I had to puree the soup in a Magic Bullet!  It only took about a thousand batches (grumble, grumble). It was a little rustic -- really important to clean the fiddleheads and puree them well if you want a super-smooth texture. I think I might even press through a sieve or cheesecloth next time.

Fiddleheads and Mushrooms in Beurre Blanc

Beurre Blanc is one of those classic French sauces that you think will be difficult and involved, but when you actually check the recipe, turns out to be pretty simple. In the beurre blanc (white butter sauce) that I prepared tonight, there are only 7 ingredients:

6 tbs. vegetable stock or dry white wine

2 tbs. white wine vinegar

3 tbs. minced shallots

salt and pepper to taste

1 tbs. half-and-half or heavy cream

8 tbs. cold, unsalted butter, cut into 8 pieces

I've made curries that were three times as long. It should be noted that to keep the sauce lightly colored, white pepper is preferred. I ran out, so my sauce tonight had a more "rustic" look with the addition of black pepper. I also used Himalayan pink salt. Ooo, fancy.  

But, preparation doesn't start with the sauce -- it starts (and ends) with fiddleheads. If you haven't read my inaugural post and the advice about preparing fiddleheads, you might want to take a gander if this is a new food for you. Otherwise, read on.

After the fiddleheads (use 1 1/2 cups) have been properly washed and trimmed, blanch in boiling water to which you have added up to a teaspoon of baking soda. This is Memere's trick for taking any bitterness out of the vegetable. But don't leave them in there too long -- one minute! -- I think I left mine in too long tonight because I found them a bit bland. My memere's cooking tends to be a little overcooked for my tastes, well-salted and peppered, but otherwise not very perky or seasoned. Try to avoid this pitfall.

Meanwhile (and it won't be a long while, so have everything ready to go), heat a tablespoon of butter in a small skillet. When melted, add

• 1 c. sliced mushrooms

I used shitakes. When they're ready, add the fiddleheads. Sautee lightly until the fiddleheads are cooked but still bright green. Remove from skillet.

Prepare the beurre blanc. Heat everything up to the s + p in the list above until reduced by about 1/2 - 3/4. Stir in

• half-and-half

Remove from heat and KEEP WHISKING. That's important. Whisk in, like it's your job, one piece at a time:

• the 8 tbs. of butter

Once the butter is combined, gently fold in the fiddleheads and mushroom and serve immediately.

I served (to myself) the fiddleheads with some brown rice and green lentils (very simple -- just boiled in half water, half vegetable stock) and a fennel-orange-fig salad, dressed simply with balsamic vinegar and olive oil.

I just want to add that even though I eat mostly healthy foods, this dish contains a HUGE amount of butter and should be eaten in moderation. I was going to put goat cheese on the salad, but frankly, I couldn't even think about it. I'm stuffed.

Welcome to Fiddlehead: Inaugural Post

This is what happens when your heart gets broken: you steal his digital camera and start a food blog.

Because you know, right about now,  he's wishing he could be eating your cooking . . . . 

Welcome to Fiddlehead. I'm Patricia and this is my blog. I'm an adjunct professor of English with a keen interest in the environment, food and healthy, conscious living. Read more about the anticipated content of this blog in the sidebar under, "About Fiddlehead."

What you won't see there is an explanation as to why I named the blog "Fiddlehead." Aside from the fact that it's just a great word (compound word with fun-to-say consonance and the suggestion of a double-meaning), fiddleheads are:

• one of my favorite foods.
• abundant right here (New England), right now!
• a wild food. I'm into wild and foraged food. Seth and I had a lovely time picking fiddleheads at a foraging workshop last year.
• a link to my ancestral past. My memere cooked fugère in Canada, and it was a traditional food of Native Americans in this area. Like many French Canadians, Memere and Pepere had native people in their family trees.
  
• are named after the elegant spiral at the end of a violin, which reminds me of the connections between food and life, the wild and the cultured, the gastronomic and the emotional, the metaphorical and the real. 

My aim here is to not just list my recipes with a bunch of pretty pictures (like you don't have any) but to spark conversations about food issues (sustainability, activism against industrial agriculture, organic gardening, macrobiotics, healthy food, poverty and world hunger, and other stuff) and about food books/writing, programs, movies, etc. I may even torture my readers with my original poetry(food-themed, of course) from time to time. I want to do more than just recant snobby, gourmet recipes and offer banal reviews of over-priced restaurants; like its name, this blog should be special, fresh, something you can't get everywhere. I want this blog to be reflective of the emotional, political and personal aspects of eating and cooking. 

It is, after all, the work of a love-sick poet.

So, if I'm going to name my blog after them, I guess I'd better make sure my first post has something to do with fiddleheads. I have a couple recipes: one is Fiddlehead Caprese (below; this recipe also contains some basics about cooking with fiddleheads) and the other . . . I'm making it for the first time tonight, so you'll have to wait until I go make it, photograph it and eat it before I let you know how it is. 

In researching for this blog, I also came across other food bloggers who have recipes for fiddleheads; I haven't tried the recipes, but you can check these out and let me know what you think:

Fiddlehead Pasta Primavera at Cucina Panzano

Garlicky Wild Fiddlehead Ferns at The Nourishing Gourmet

Several Unique Fiddleheads Recipes at Fiddleheads.ca

In a few hours, check back and see if I've posted the new recipe -- I'll be sure to get to it tonight. Until then, here's my Fiddlehead Caprese.

Fiddlehead Caprese

I invented this delicious salad because I had fiddleheads in the fridge that simply had to be eaten. Most recipes that you’ll see online for fiddleheads call for them to be sautéed with mushrooms or onions or served with pasta. I didn’t have any mushrooms, or I would have done that.  Fiddleheads are crisp and have a taste similar to asparagus. They have an affinity for olive oil, mushrooms and cheese. They also hold their own in tomato sauces and oriental foods (http://www.wild-harvest.com/pages/fiddlehead.htm).

Caprese salad, consisting of tomatoes, basil and mozzarella, is one of my favorites. Of course, it’s best when the tomatoes are fresh and locally in season, which, here in Massachusetts, isn’t until deep summer. Fiddleheads, on the other hand, are a spring treat. So, if you want to combine these ingredients to make this salad, you need to get the freshest tomatoes you can find. I like the ones that are on the vine, but grape or cherry tomatoes would also work.

Ingredients

1 cup rinsed, fresh, compact fiddleheads, chaff removed*

2 tbs. extra virgin olive oil

½ tsp. Italian herb blend (dried mixture of any of these herbs: basil, marjoram, oregano, rosemary, bay,

            thyme, fennel)

2 fresh tomatoes, chopped into bite-sized pieces, or 1- 1 ½ cups of cherry tomatoes

1 garlic clove, minced

1-2 tbs. of lemon juice

¼ cup fresh mozzarella

small bunch of fresh basil

salt and pepper to taste

 

Directions

1.       Start with the tomatoes: place chopped tomatoes, garlic and lemon juice in a large bowl and let it marinate for at least fifteen minutes. Add a pinch of salt.

2.      After fiddleheads have been prepared, steam them for about five minutes or until they go from dark green to a lighter (but still BRIGHT) green. Add a pinch of salt just before the steaming finishes.

3.      Slice and chop up the mozzarella into small bites. Toss into the tomato mixture.

4.      When fiddleheads are done, toss them into the tomato mixture.

5.      Tear the basil leaves and toss them into the mix. Drizzle with more olive oil, if desired. Serve immediately.

 

Preparing Fiddleheads

Fiddleheads have a light, almost papery, chaff that needs to be removed before cooking. It’s easy enough to remove by rubbing the shoots between your hands under running water. Discard any fiddleheads that are not tightly curled and cut off any long stems (longer than two inches). Rinse in several changes of water to remove any dirt that becomes trapped in the curled fronds. Fiddleheads should be eaten fresh and soon after harvest – don’t let them hang out in your fridge.