Layered Puree Of Roasted Beetroots & Their Greens

Our beet crop is in full swing. Roasting veggies is a wonderful way of preparing them, especially when serving as a mash because their moisture content is decreased to the point that flavour is intensified while the texture is made more pleasing. Beetroots are no exception. Cooler weather makes turning the oven on not too much of a big deal. Beets, along with radishes and turnips, work hard for the kitchen garden as they provide both roots and foliage resulting in a double harvest. Since red and green are complementary colours and pack a visual punch, I layered the roasted, creme-fraiche-enriched beet puree with a puree of greens sauteed in olive oil with garlic. Double harvest, double puree. Topped with a lemon slice and fleur de sel, it makes a light lunch or supper when served with cheese and crackers.

If beets with their greens are not to be had at your market, fret not, roasted beetroot puree topped with creme fraiche is wonderful.

Ingredients are bolded. To roast beets: Preheat oven to 204 degrees C/400 degrees F. (The beets can be roasted along with other stuff at lower temperatures but they will take longer.) Trim both tops and bottoms. Scrub well. Though they can be enclosed in foil, it is much easier to check doneness if they are placed in a foil-lined, lid-covered oven dish. Oil the foil. When checking them as they bake, if they look dry or sticking then add a bit of water. They are done when a knife inserted into their centres meets with no resistance. My melange of small to medium beets took about an hour. Peel carefully with a sharp knife, trimming away any dark bits as they tend toward bitterness. The finished beet will look translucent and bright red. If there are excess beets, let cool, portion, and then freeze. This way you can have borscht in the future. A tablespoon or so of creme fraiche or sour cream added to the blender or a stick mixer's container will ensure lusciousness. Salt to taste. Reserve.

To make the sauteed greens puree: Wash the beet greens.

Trim off most of the red stems as they make a grainy texture in addition to being quite bitter.

Dry them in a kitchen or paper towel.

In a large pot, heat up some olive oil (if you adore olive oil slicked greens as much as I do, then thinly cover the pot's bottom with the oil) over medium low heat. Add as much minced fresh garlic as you want and saute for a minute (no browning!) or as in my case, if you are making do with garlic powder, wait until the greens are added. Turn the heat to high and depending on the size of the pot and the amount of greens, add them in increments. As they start to wilt, add more, stirring all the time. Cover, and lower heat to a small flame, braise until tender, around ten minutes. During that time, check to see if a bit of water needs to be added to prevent any burning and sticking. Blend till smooth. Salt to taste.

To present: When layering, first spoon the puree close to the sides of the glass and then work towards the centre. This way the demarcated layers will be clearly seen from the outside. Start with the greens, followed with the beetroot, another layer of greens, and then edge the top with beetroot letting the previous layer of greens to peek through. Cut a thin slice of lemon from its edge to its centre and then twist it into a swirl, topping the double puree with it. Sprinkle with fleur de sel. I served it at room temperature, but it can be chilled if desired. The sweetness from the beetroots contrasted nicely with the slight bitterness of the greens. Lovely to look at, and lovely to eat.

À la prochaine!

Late Summer Garden 2019

There's a paradoxical edge in the air. The pervasive mellowness of late-summer laziness when much already has been harvested, specifically rhubarb, asparagus, peas, potatoes, strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, and blackberries, is brushing against the beginning bustle of sowing for autumnal crops such as beets, carrots, kale, and tansy along with picking plus preserving peaches, plums, the second flush of raspberries, and figs. Watering and mowing chores are being replaced by weeding and clipping hedges such as ivy, laurel, and the wild area's brambles. Ivy covering walls/fences and pergola pillars gets about four trimmings per year chez nous. This one will be the last until late winter/early spring. When the cutting back is vigorous, dead leaves tucked deep into the vines will show. Through time they will flutter down on their own accord or be covered with new growth. This final trim was done a little too late as clusters of berries which sustain starlings through winter already had started developing so though some unfortunately got the axe, I made sure the ones up high were spared as on the ivy-covered wall in the below photo's bottom left-hand corner.

But the bustle is not exactly a bustle. Even it is pervaded with a sense if not exactly of laziness, then one of satiety with the promise of more to come. This halo of contentment hovering over our little city plot is reminiscent of the much larger one that floated over a farming community we visited about ten years ago south of Grenoble. In exchange of our being custodians for a century-old country property while their owners went abroad we got to spend two weeks during late August in an active agricultural setting.  The large house more in shambles than not is referred to on local maps as Le Chateau hence at one point in our stay a pair of hikers stared with confused disappointment over the chain-barred dirt road entrance at the rather dilapidated structure in process of being renovated. We made sure the horses got their daily water and the orchard's apples got picked and stored. As we hiked around fields dotted with bales of hay and walked through narrow village streets where workers were making sure roofs were in good repair for the coming winter, this dual sense of activity laced with satisfied fulfilment was everywhere. 

At the moment in our urban garden, there's a bumper crop of peaches! As I pick up the fragrant ones volunteering easy harvesting by their dropping to the ground, I hear neighbours' chickens clucking, clucking, clucking along, in their own feathery universe, bringing memories of our stay in that farming village where the sounds of domesticated animals were everywhere, from horses to cows, and of course chickens.

The fig harvest looks to be a record breaker also.

Beets still have a ways to go in developing their roots, but a few leaves here and there have been plucked to go into minestrone.

It's a common saying among gardeners that the best crop yield often is found on the compost heap. Ours at present is covered with squash and tomato plants.

The front garden's lavender, abelia, purple plum tree, and potted heather are bathed in flitting shadows cast by the much taller and still fully leaved cherry plum and box elder trees. Within a couple of months the shadowy dance will become more subdued once those trees start to shed their leaves.

Companions to the heather are a solar lamp and floppy, chartreuse echeveria. The succulent will put out welcomed, cheery, bright-yellow blooms in late winter.

Lavender cradles pink, low-growing dahlias.

It will get a clipping after flowering.

Deadheading regularly will keep dahlias blooming right into autumn like these lovely, single, red ones set in a dramatic background of yucca with its sword-shaped leaves.

À la prochaine!

Beetroot with its Greens & Crusty Lemony Brown Rice Au Gratin

In general, root veggies, and not just potatoes, adapt well to an au gratin style which is to say they are thinly sliced, layered with cheese, covered with cream, and topped with bread crumbs or in this case, with lemon-and-parsley-flavoured, buttered brown rice.

Ingredients and basic information are in bold. I made enough for two ample servings which were baked and served in individual, shallow oven bowls (each with a capacity of 300 ml/10 fluid oz) with exceedingly nifty handles. Multiply the ingredients to get the desired quantity if you want more which can be baked in one large casserole. Cut off greens from four medium beets. Trim off most of the stalks. Wash the leaves well. Layer them, roll like a cigar, and slice thinly. Stir two finely minced garlic cloves into two tablespoons of olive oil gently warmed in a skillet. Saute for a minute or so, then add the greens. Braise covered over a low flame till mostly tender, about five minutes. Season to taste with salt and freshly ground black pepper.

Preheat oven to  177 °C/350°F. Scrub beets. Cut off both ends. Peel them. Slice each beet as thinly as possible. They don't have to be paper thin, but shouldn't be more than 3 mm/.12 inch thick. A sharp or ceramic or strong serrated knife is what you need. If you have a mandolin slicer, then you are sitting pretty. Slicing them on a glass pie plate will be less messy.

Our potager is giving us a generous beet harvest

Lightly coat the dishes with olive oil. Position enough beet slices in each dish to make a slightly overlapping, substantial layer. Season well with salt and freshly ground black pepper.

Spread the greens on top of the beet layer, half for each dish and add 8 heaping T of grated cheese in two evenly divided doses. I used French Emmental, but any melty cheese would be fine, like cheddar or Gruyère.

Place another layer of beet slices. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper.

In a small mixing bowl, stir together 12 heaping tablespoons of cooked brown rice, 1 T lemon zest, 1 T lemon juice, and 1 heaping T of flat parsley. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste. Mash lightly with a fork.

Pour 300 ml/10 fluid oz of half and half (150 ml/5 fluid oz of cream, 150 ml/5 fluid oz of milk) or till the beets are barely covered. Then top with the rice mixture, dotting it well with sweet butter. And I do mean well as in small chunks placed fairly close together. Put the dishes on a metal baking pan to catch any drips especially if they are filled to the brim.

Bake for sixty minutes or when tested with a knife, the beets are tender. Let sit for about fifteen minutes before serving. My expectation was that it would be delicious, but not as sublime as it actually turned out: silky beets, cheesy, garlicky greens slicked with olive oil, and zesty, buttery rice with most of the grains soaking up the cream along with beet juices, but some dutifully providing contrasting texture, all coming together into a fabulous melange of sour, sweet, bitter, and umami. It's a splendid meal in itself, but its crimson cheeriness would go great with a Christmas dinner of ham or turkey.

Perhaps it was baking the au gratin in these two glazed terracotta dishes that made it come out so terrific. I will try this recipe in a large, glass baking dish and see if it comes out as fantastic as this did. And how nice it would be to have enough to last several days!

We recently found them and a silver serving spoon in an outdoor flea market

À la prochaine!

Midsummer Garden

The potager is brimming with potatoes, tomatoes, garlic, onions, beets, green beans, and carrots close to harvest in addition to plums, peaches, and blackberries. However it quickly can become desiccated because rainfall is infrequent during July and August. Hence my morning and nightly dates with the water hose because during those times the rate of evaporation is less. Thinning beets are advantageous in two ways: allows room for the remaining to become full-sized and gives abundant greens for the cook pot.

I prefer beet greens to spinach though I would never refuse the later

A chiffonade is an effective way to cut herbs and leafy greens by stacking them in a pile, rolling-up that pile up into a fat cigar, and then thinly slicing it.

Cold drink and food are refreshing ways to withstand hot days, but a different response works also which is surrendering wholeheartedly to the heat and melting along with it till the only reasonable response is a nap. And to aid that giving-in is a nice soup plate of minestrone containing among other ingredients, beet greens, basil, and potatoes from our garden.

Tomatoes which were planted late in the season due to unfavourable weather are beginning to redden.

Happily there were enough ripe ones to slice for topping macaroni and cheese.

In order to stay bushy, and therefore productive, spearmint is no different from other herbs which all require frequent pinching. These leaves got washed and then towel-dried. Spread evenly on a plate, they lost all moisture within two weeks. There is now a filled jar chez nous that will provide some lovely iced mint tea.

Some of the strawberries put out baby plants, from three to five on a runner, which were cut off and placed in shallow flats of potting mix. They will be planted in about a month.

The lush, silky blooms of the hydrangea have reached their peak.

Dirac the Cat loves twilight and twilight loves him, bringing out the blue in his coat.

The wild area and dusk is a perfect pairing for him

He doesn't need warm food to go with the flow, just a good stretch thank you very much.

À la prochaine!