Hoping for Chard ...

Our farm share resumes this Friday. I haven't a clue as to what we're getting, but that's OK. After three summers of CSA participation, The Programmer and I can tackle just about anything when it comes to produce. Or, at least, I think we can; the jury is still out on broccoli rabe.

In the run-up to the CSA season, I've been experimenting with herb and spice combinations. Recently, we've had from-scratch falafel, tzatziki, Indian-spiced potatoes, and cilantro-mint dressing. I expect to be sharing more about these recipes as the season progresses.

Meanwhile, it's time to sit back and see what the week brings. Chard, maybe? Pretty please?

Labneh (Yogurt Cheese)

I have an abundance of herbs popping up in my garden: chive, oregano, parsley -- all of them perennials that survive despite significant neglect. They are precursors to the CSA season, and they were the impetus behind a couple of recent experiments with labneh.

Labneh, made with whole-milk yogurt.

Labneh, of Middle Eastern origin, is nothing more than yogurt drained of its whey to make make a spreadable cheese. It has a consistency similar to cream cheese, but it retains the distinct sourness of yogurt. For me, that makes it a bit of an acquired taste. So far, I've liked it best dabbed on bananas (reminiscent of bananas and sour cream), mixed with chive and spread on a toasted bagel, and slathered on pumpernickel-and-onion pretzels. It plays well with strong flavors -- fresh herbs, garlic, horseradish, olive oil, olives, black pepper -- and counterbalances sweet ones -- honey, berries, or dried fruit, for example.

Labneh is probably the easiest cheese to make at home: two ingredients and minimal equipment. For comparison sake, I made one batch using non-fat yogurt and a second batch with full-fat yogurt. The full-fat yogurt naturally produced a firmer, richer cheese, but even the non-fat yogurt had decent results (plus, no fat!). Whatever type of yogurt you choose, get a high-quality one that does not contain gelatin, pectin, or stabilizers, as any additives will affect how the yogurt drains.

Labneh

Ingredients and Tools

1 quart plain yogurt
1/2 tsp. kosher salt
A deep bowl
Fine-mesh sieve
Cheesecloth or muslin
Kitchen twine

Method

Place the sieve on top of your bowl. Fold a large square of cheesecloth into quarters and set it inside the sieve, or substitute a piece of muslin for the cheesecloth.

Mix the salt into the yogurt, and pour the mixture into the cheesecloth. Let it drain for about 10 minutes, then bring the ends of the cheesecloth together to form a bundle of yogurt. Tie the bundle with kitchen twine.

Leave the bundle in the sieve, or tie it to a wooden chopstick and place the chopstick across the top of the bowl so the bundle is suspended. Let the yogurt drain, refrigerated, for 12 to 24 hours. The longer it drains, the thicker the final product will be. Keep an eye on the level of the liquid (whey) that's collecting in the bowl, and make sure it never reaches the bottom of the bundle or sieve. You can save the whey for cooking or baking, or discard. I found it easier to suspend the bundle after the yogurt had drained for a couple of hours and had compacted somewhat, so the bundle didn't hang as low in the bowl.

When the yogurt has drained sufficiently, untie the bundle, remove the cheesecloth, and transfer the cheese to a serving dish or container. Refrigerate leftovers.

Fabulous Beef Roast With Garlic, Horseradish, and Mustard

Roasted broccoli and some of our
CSA squash rounded out the meal.

Here's what ordinarily happens when I buy a fresh horseradish root. I grate it up for the Passover seder, use a couple of spoonfuls on gefilte fish, and then forget about it for months as it grays in a corner of the fridge. But not this year. That's because I came across a beef roast recipe that's perfect for leftover horseradish.

I almost never, ever roast a hunk of beef (my go-to meat -- brisket -- is braised), so I was a little concerned about how this would come out. The verdict: A thumb's-up from everyone in the household. Ha! I'm thinking this dish could become a regular post-Passover tradition.

(A word of caution, though, if this recipe appeals to you as a Passover entree. Mustard is considered kitniyot, and by tradition is not used by Ashkenazi Jews during the holiday. Please don't ask me to explain this.)

Fabulous Beef Roast With Garlic, Horseradish, and Mustard
Adapted from Canadian Living magazine

Many resources recommend letting large cuts of meat come up to room temperature before cooking. Remove the roast from the refrigerator about an hour before you want to put it in the oven.

5 lb boneless beef rib roast
2 Tbsp dry mustard
1 Tbsp water
10 cloves garlic, minced
1/3 cup prepared white horseradish (fresh grated, or from a jar)
3 Tbsp vegetable oil
2 tsp dried thyme
1 tsp black pepper

Lightly grease a roasting rack and place it in a foil-lined roasting pan. Place the beef roast on the rack, fat side up.

In a small bowl, stir together the dry mustard and water to make a paste. Mix in the garlic, horseradish, vegetable oil, thyme, and pepper. Spread the mixture over the top and sides of the meat. (If desired, you can cover and refrigerate the coated meat for up to a day.)

Roast the meat in a 325-degree F oven until a meat thermometer inserted in the center registers 140 degrees F for rare or 150 degrees F for medium, roughly 1.5 to 2.5 hours. (The timing can vary considerably, depending on the size and shape of your roast, the internal temperature of the meat when you start cooking, and the accuracy of your oven temperature.)

Transfer the roast to a carving board, tent with foil, and let stand for at least 10 minutes, or up to 30 minutes. The temperature should rise another 5 degrees upon standing. Slice and serve.

Preparing Fresh Horseradish

Scrub the surface of the horseradish root with a brush. Place the root into a bowl of water and peel it while it is submerged; this keeps the cut surfaces from being exposed to the air, which in turn makes it less irritating for your eyes.

Remove the peeled root from the water, quickly chop into pieces, and place into the bowl of a food processor fitted with the steel blade. Pulse to finely chop the horseradish. Add some water and white vinegar and process to combine.

How much water and vinegar you need will depend on the size of the horseradish root; figure 3 to 4 tablespoons of water and 1 tablespoon of vingear for a 6- to 7-ounce root. Take care in removing the food processor cover: Fresh horseradish is pungent.

Egg-Free, Dairy-Free Pierogies, With Potato and Onion Filling

The instructions may seem long,
but pierogies are fairly easy to make.

Sometimes I cook a category of food unintentionally. This past month we’ve had a lot of “pockets,” starting with hamantashen (chocolate and peach jam fillings), progressing to pot stickers (beef and vegetarian), and, most recently, pierogies.

Family ties to Poland notwithstanding, I make no claims of authenticity when it comes to pierogies. But these were fun to make -- I had not only a cooperative dough, but also a cooperative teenage helper. The pierogies got high praise from Kit, who would eat a standard box of pierogies by herself in one sitting if we would let her.

Pierogies strike me as a good pre-Marathon food: Plenty of carbs in potato-filled pasta.

Pierogies, With Potato and Onion Filling
(Adapted, slightly, from Post Punk Kitchen. Makes 24 to 30 pierogies.)

For the Filling
1.5 pounds Yukon gold potatoes, peeled, cut in 3/4-inch dice
2 Tbsp canola oil
1 onion, finely chopped
1/4 tsp ground black pepper
1/2 tsp salt

For the Dough
3 Tbsp canola oil
1 cup warm water
About 3 cups all-purpose flour, divided use, plus extra for sprinkling
3/4 tsp salt

Make the filling: Place the diced potatoes in a medium saucepan, cover with water, and bring to a boil. Lower heat to a simmer, cover the pot, and cook the potatoes for about 15 minutes or until soft. Drain the potatoes.

Meanwhile, heat the oil in a large sauté pan, and cook the onions for 5 to 10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until soft. Combine the onions, drained potatoes, salt, and pepper, and mash together. Set the filling aside to cool. (You can make the filling ahead of time and refrigerate.)

Make the dough: Have on hand a large baking sheet, lined with parchment paper and lightly floured.

Pour the oil and water into a large bowl. Add 2 cups of flour and the salt. Use a fork to stir the flour into the liquid. As it comes together, use your hands to knead the mixture, forming a loose dough. Sprinkle your work surface with flour and turn the dough out of the bowl. Knead the dough, working in the remaining cup of flour a little at a time. (Depending on conditions in your kitchen, you may need a little more or less flour.) Continue kneading the dough until it is smooth and elastic, about 10 minutes.

Divide the dough in half. Dust your work surface and a rolling pin with flour. Roll out one half of the dough to about 1/16-inch thick. Cut circles of dough, 3.5 to 4 inches in diameter. Place the circles on the prepared baking sheet and refrigerate them as you roll and cut the remaining half of the dough. Reroll and cut any dough scraps.

Complete the pierogies: Fill each round with about 1 tablespoon of the potato-onion mixture, dab water around the edges of the dough, and fold into a half-moon shape. Crimp the edges with a fork. Place filled pierogies on the floured baking sheet until you are ready to cook.

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Gently lower six pierogies into the water (a large slotted spoon or skimmer is good for this) and cook them for about 4 minutes; they should float when they are done. Remove cooked pierogies to a plate and cover them with foil to stay warm as you boil the remaining batches.

You can further cook boiled pierogies by frying them, but I never got a chance to try that -- Kit got to the leftovers first.

Culinary Confessions and a Non-Recipe for Colcannon

As you know, this blog is focused on produce and community-supported agriculture, and it features a lot of from-scratch recipes. But I didn't always eat or cook this way. My culinary beginnings included a fair amount of Cheez Whiz and Bisquick, brownie mixes, and cans of cream-of-mushroom soup -- though, fortunately, not all in the same dish.

Every once in a while I still dip into the realm of "semi-homemade"; which is why The Programmer did not get a home-baked layer cake on his birthday, but rather a parfait that featured instant pudding mix, frozen whipped topping, strawberries, and cubes of angel food cake. The cake, which I had in the freezer, was homemade, but it may have been a relic from The Programmer's birthday celebration last year. This reminded us of the "leftover parfait" bit from Malcolm in the Middle. Ours was a leftover parfait parfait.

Not from scratch ...
but it tasted good.

By way of redemption, I present to you a non-recipe for Colcannon, just in time for St. Patrick's Day. Colcannon is simply boiled potatoes mashed with boiled cabbage or kale -- seasonal ingredients and authentic to Ireland.

Colcannon (Kale version)

Use a waxy potato variety, such as Yukon Gold, for mashing. I cut my potatoes into quarters for boiling, and don't bother peeling them until they have cooked.

Boil and drain about 2 pounds of potatoes. Let them cool slightly and remove peels as needed. Mash the potatoes, adding butter and warm milk, or pareve margarine and potato-boiling liquid, depending on whether you need to keep the recipe dairy free. Keep the mashed potatoes warm.

Meanwhile, remove and discard the stems from a bunch of kale. Roughly chop the leaves and boil or steam them until tender. Let the kale cool a bit, then chop finely.

Mix the cooked kale into the mashed potatoes, adding salt and pepper to taste. And that's pretty much it, though you could easily add in onions, garlic, or other seasoning if you like. If you have more cooked kale than you need for the potatoes, save it for another use, such as quiche or soup.