Swiss Chard

As much as I like big flavors, I sometimes want something more gentle, a little genteel even. French beans lend themselves to such cooking.

The purity of a leaf and its edible stalk, lightly steamed and served “naked,” is always somehow life enhancing. But occasionally I want a more sensuous treatment (a welcome lift in times of recession). The spiced cream with juniper and peppercorns recipe that I occasionally use with green leaves makes them a particularly sound accompaniment for grilled or roast pork, or for poached ham or chicken, but I also find it perfectly acceptable with brown rice as a main dish in itself.

Cheese is the savior of chard, as a crisp crust, a seasoning for soup, a luscious sauce, bringing out its qualities while introducing a note of luxury. Often, the bolder the cheese the more interesting the result, so a well-matured British cheese is a wise choice for something like a shallow chard tart. As a sort of double whammy, I add cheese to the pastry as well as the filling.

Bubble and squeak is an iconic British dish made by frying leftover boiled potatoes and cabbage to make a large, flat potato cake that is crisp outside and soft within. Bubble and squeak can be as simple as the traditional leftover cabbage and potato fry-up or somewhat more sophisticated, with the introduction of cheese, smoked pork, fish, or other vegetables. The bells-and-whistles versions can often successfully disguise the fact that your supper is made from stuff you found at the back of the fridge. Keeping the potato pieces quite coarse makes the texture more interesting.

On the right day, a deep bowl of lentil soup is all the food I need. The homey, almost spare quality satisfies me in a way fancier recipes cannot. The undertones of frugality, poverty even, are avoided by rich seasonings of unsmoked bacon, herbs, and good stock. The backbone of earthiness is given a fresh top note with mint and lemon juice. You can keep your beef Wellington.

Perhaps because of the thickness of its stalks, or the unruly tangle of leaves on the plate, chard always manages to exude a rustic quality. It is not really a vegetable for “fine dining.” Blanched and seasoned with young, mild garlic and a squeeze of lemon, the stems and leaves become a useful side dish for any big-flavored main course. Allowed to cool, they also work with cold roast meats, thickly torn chunks of mozzarella, wedges of warm savory tarts, or coarse-textured “country” pâté. In other words, a distinctly useful thing to have in the fridge.

Lemony sorrel brightens the flavor of spot prawns, large shrimp that can be served with the head and tail on or peeled. To remove the shell, use scissors to cut down the back to the tail tip. Like all shrimp, prawns only take a minute or two to cook, and after that can become tough. Millet provides a fluffy bed that soaks up the sauce. Start this recipe the night before serving so that the millet can soak.

When a confirmed, dyed-in-the-wool meat eater starts claiming a vegetable dish is his favorite meal of all time, that’s when I know I’m onto something. I made this for my husband, Gregg, and he went absolutely ga-ga over it. (And no, Gregg’s not one of those guys who would say it’s great just because I made it. He’s an honest food critic.) I’ve noticed that a lot of people who avoid vegetables gravitate to this dish. It could be because it’s colorful or comes in its own bowl, but I really think it’s because the hearty taste elicits a comfort food response. Squash has so many things going for it. It’s easy to digest and has numerous qualities—anti-inflammatory, antioxidant, immunity-boosting—that make it a boon for anyone dealing with cancer. Squash is also a natural vessel for all sorts of wonderful fillings. And if you aren’t in the mood for roasting squash, this quinoa pilaf makes for a yummy dish all on its own.

For a lot of people, working with greens is reminiscent of a high school science project. I used to feel that way too. I remember the first time I brought home a bunch of Swiss chard. I laid those big, leafy stalks on my counter and thought to myself, “Should I just put these in a vase and stare at them? Or should I wait until summer and fan myself with them?” The truth is, for many of us, our aversion to greens goes back to childhood because kids are very sensitive to bitter tastes and, many greens, if not prepared properly, can be bitter. However, all it takes to remove that bitter taste is a very simple fix: a quick bath in olive oil and a little heat. Sautéeing chard in olive oil—or any green, for that matter—makes the flavor and consistency much more palate friendly. Adding orange to the mix makes these greens especially yummy, and that’s a great thing because greens and the phytochemicals they contain are a must-have for maintaining health.

Cooked cornmeal makes a delightfully dense soup base. Serve this meal-in-a-bowl with a bountiful salad and crusty bread.

Here’s a bountiful and nourishing stew made substantial with the delightful addition of tortellini.

Both nourishing and sublimely satisfying, this thick soup incorporates fall’s first sweet potatoes with seasonal greens. Red lentils, which cook to a warm golden color, are available in natural food stores and ethnic groceries. Serve with Chapatis (page 158) or a store-bought flatbread.

This recipe reminds me of lightly cooked and dressed salads shared under the endless skies above the Greek isles. I spent one summer during college working in a restaurant on the island of Rhodes and found many opportunities to savor the Greek flavors. To truly get into the spirit, you’d have to serve dinner with candlelight, plenty of retsina, and lots of laughter! For firmer, more al dente lentils, use 1/2 cup dry lentils and 1 cup of liquid instead of canned.

The story goes that when Napoleon invaded Italy he brought along his own French chef. The army camped at the town of Marengo and the chef created this dish with whatever the scouts brought back from the countryside. Napoleon loved it and the rest, as they say, is history. Using porcini or other wild mushrooms will give this meal more depth of flavor, but almost any vegetable goes well with the basil and green olives. I like to use penne or farfalle (bow tie pasta) with this recipe, though almost any short pasta should work.

Quinoa is not only a complete protein, providing all the essential amino acids, it’s also gluten-free. This light and delicate grain has a delicious nutty flavor that is perfect for summer weather. The type of chile is up to you. For a milder flavor, choose an Anaheim green chile; pasillas or jalapeños will give more of a bite. You may use spinach rather than kale or chard. If you find that your greens emerge browner than you’d like, move them down a layer and top with the bell pepper instead.

Not quite a soup, New England fish chowder is known for its succulent large chunks of seafood and vegetables coated in a thin, milky broth. Traditionally this is made with cod; however, tilapia, flounder, or any other white fish will work fine. You can even use fillets directly from the freezer without defrosting them first. The fish will break into pieces as it cooks, or you can break it up while serving. Add any type of fresh or frozen seafood, such as crab or shrimp, or eight ounces of corn kernels for an even heartier meal. The type of milk used will affect how thick the broth is. Choose skim, 2 percent, whole, soy, rice, almond, or even heavy cream to suit your preference. To quickly remove the stems of chard (and other leafy greens like kale), hold the sides of the leaves together in one hand and use the other to rip the stem from the bottom of the leaf. Chard stems can be bitter. By chopping the stems finely and placing them on the bottom of the pot, they will have the opportunity to brown slightly and lose most of their bitterness.

Here’s a soup to warm your heart even on the bleakest day of winter. Use it as a guideline, and make your own innovations according to what you have on hand. The beans are very nourishing, the meat accent lends heartiness, and the greens are healthy, giving balance and color. It’s interesting how cooks of the past just knew these things instinctively.

As a kid I remember my grandmother talking about how much she loved Swiss chard, but the weird thing is, I never saw her eat it—ever. But she always had it in the garden and she attributed her good health, even in her old age, to eating Swiss chard. Coincidentally, her name was Gramma Green! I find Swiss chard to be one of the most interesting and delicious greens around. Here I use both the stems and the leaves and mix them with turnips. People give turnips a bad rap, but I think it’s just because they haven’t experienced them. I realize I’m combining two ingredients in this dish that people might not think of eating on their own, let alone together, but I’m on a mission to make Swiss chard and turnips popular. And if any dish with chard and turnips can turn you on, I’m betting this one can!