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!

Stinging Nettles Soup with Leek Base and French Sorrel Garnish

Haven't got the time for a proper post, but I'm excited for the community garden this summer. I've got an additional plot in a really sunny location. I'm going to try some lemon cucumbers and rainbow quinoa amid the old standbys, tomatoes, squash and eggplants. In my old plot, the sweet woodruff and hyssop took off beautifully, as did the French sorrel that appears in the recipe below. In that plot, I'm going to plant an herb/greens garden. I've already put in some rainbow chard mixed in with the Japanese mustard greens.

Picked up a copy of the Farmer's Almanac and will be doing some experiments with planting by the phases and signs of the moon!

So, last week I went over to do a little planning, and picked up some rhubarb, mint and stinging nettles. Here's a link to the recipe I followed for Stinging Nettles Soup: http://www.siennese.com/~prentice/recipes/nettles.php

I didn't use the creme fraiche because I'm cleansing, but I so wanted to! I did add a garnish of French sorrel, which I think really helps the flavor. The tangy, lemony sorrel is so bright and cheerful with the super-green goodness of the soup base.

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