Salad Smackdown: Cauliflower and Grain FTW!

It's like I was walking up a steep trail in the woods and suddenly came across a pristine pool underneath a sparkling waterfall. Hot and sweaty from the exertion, what could I do but dive in?

Some recipes are like that, in that they provide an jumping-off place for an unexpected and often refreshing experience. Jim Dixon's cauliflower with Meyer lemon relish, which chef Alice Waters (of Chez Panisse fame) based on an Italian gremolata, was like that for me. I'd made it several times to raves here at our house, as well as when I took it as a side dish to friend's homes.

The lemon relish.

Its lemony tingle is fantastic with Meyer lemons when they're in season, but regular lemons serve almost as well. And preserved lemon, minced into tiny shards, takes it to another level with their zesty, salty tang. It was the preserved lemon version that first had me pondering adding grain to the mix, so the next time I added frikeh, the smoky, parched wheat from Ayers Creek Farm that had been cooked to toothy perfection.

Dave was smoking a ten-pound behemoth of a brisket for Memorial Day, so I thought that the cauliflower with frikeh would add an additional smoky note to the ensemble (which included my mother's potato salad and grilled asparagus). There happened to be chive blossoms going nuts in the garden, so a few of those were plucked and sprinkled about.

While I feel like this particular recipe has come to a nice resting point, I'd love to hear if you discover a sparkling pool hidden in its depths.

Grain and Cauliflower Salad with Lemon Relish

8 oz. uncooked grain (frikeh, farro or barley come to mind)
1 head cauliflower, leaves trimmed but stalk left intact
1/2 to 3/4 preserved lemon, minced
1 shallot, minced (about 3 Tbsp.)
1/4 c. chopped flat-leaf parsley
1 Tbsp. chopped chives
1 Tbsp. rice vinegar
3 Tbsp. olive oil
Salt to taste
Chive blossoms to garnish (optional)

Bring a medium pot of water to boil. Add the grain and reduce heat to simmer. Cook for about 30 minutes until al dente (or to your liking) but definitely don't let it get mushy. Drain in a colander and run cold water through it to stop the cooking and cool it quickly.

Drop a whole head of cauliflower into a pot of salted boiling water. Pull it out after 3 minutes and let it cool. Make the relish by putting the minced lemon into a large salad bowl and combining with the shallot, parsley, chives, vinegar and olive oil. Let this sit for a few minutes while you chop the cauliflower into small florets (use the core, too, just chop it into smaller pieces). Toss the cauliflower and the grain with the relish, adding salt to taste. Garnish with chive blossoms, if using. Serve cold or at room temperature.

See the rest of the Salad Smackdown series—winners all!

Meyer Lemon Relish Makes Cauliflower Sing

I adore Meyer lemons and try to use them as much as possible when they're in season. This year I made preserved lemons, the better to enjoy them long after they've disappeared from store shelves. Contributor Jim Dixon of Real Good Food chops them into a relish that he can serve with grilled fish or mix with any number of blanched vegetables and salad greens. Thanks, Jim! 

It wasn't that long ago (okay, maybe it was 20 years) that the only way to get a Meyer lemon was knowing someone in California with a tree in their backyard. The citrus, thought to be a cross of lemon and tangerine, actually arrived from Asia in the early 1900s. Less acidic and puckery than the common Lisbon and Eureka lemons, Meyers also have thin, aromatic skins and a lovely fragrance.

Cauliflower with Meyer Lemon Relish

This relish, a twist on the traditional Italian herb sauce called gremolata, comes from an Alice Waters recipe for slow-roasted salmon in the 1999 Chez Panisse Cafe Cookbook. It's good with fish and almost everything else.

Drop a whole head of cauliflower into a pot of salted boiling water; pull it out after 3 minutes and let cool. Make the relish by cutting a Meyer lemon into quarters lengthwise, slicing the central white core from each quarter and removing the seeds. Then chop the lemon finely. [Preserved Meyer lemons, chopped as indicated, would be fabulous, too.]

Combine the chopped lemon with a finely chopped shallot, a quarter cup or so of chopped flat-leaf parsley, about a tablespoon of chopped chives, a tablespoon of Katz sparkling wine vinegar, a pinch of salt and a couple of tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil. Let this sit for a few minutes while you chop the cauliflower (use the core, too; just chop it into smaller pieces). Toss the cauliflower with the relish, add more salt and a little black pepper and drizzle with more olive oil. Serve cold or at room temperature.

Cauliflower Deserves Some R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Contributor Jim Dixon of Real Good Food has some strong opinions about his vegetables. (Hint: Don't get him started on the subject of rapini, raab or rabe. Seriously.) He also has some deliciously transcendent, and incredibly simple, ideas for making them shine. Take this suggestion for the much-abused cauliflower, for instance.

Chopped Cauliflower

Most cauliflower recipes begin with "break the cauliflower into florets." Sometimes they even tell you to discard the core and leaves. Ignore those instructions. The green leaves and thick core are perfectly edible and make up as much as one third of a head of cauliflower. Just chop them finely, then chop the rest the cauliflower, too. It's the key to making this Brassica delicious.

Unless I'm making a salad with cauliflower, I always chop it. (I'll try to keep the florets intact if I've got a head of romanesco, but I'll still chop up the rest.) After cutting out and chopping the core and leaves, I set the head on the cutting board, cut straight down to make two or three slices about a half inch thick, then cut those a bit more. The florets break apart, so you really just need to cut the stems. I keep slicing around the edges, then cut up the center pieces which have more of the core attached. The result is a pile of different sized pieces and even some cauliflower crumbs; use it all.

Sometimes I'll spread the pieces out on a sheet pan, drizzle with extra virgin, sprinkle on some good salt, and roast it until the edges are nearly burnt (350° for about 45 minutes, stirring once or twice). This might be the best way to eat cauliflower—and be forewarned that one head is barely enough for two people.

But chopped cauliflower cooked in olive oil in a skillet is faster and offers more opportunities to add flavor. Use a big skillet, cast iron if you've got it, and plenty of extra virgin. Cook the cauliflower over medium high with a good pinch of salt until it starts to brown, maybe 10 minutes. Add a few cloves of chopped garlic, grind in a little black pepper, cook for another minute, and eat.

Along with the garlic sometimes I add some chopped, toasted almonds and a sprinkling of grated Parmigiano Reggiano. Or a few tablespoons of chopped pickled peppers (like Mama Lil's) instead of the nuts and cheese. Just a splash of one of the Katz Orleans method vinegars makes even the plainest cauliflower sing. For a more complex dish, cook some chopped onion, celery and bell pepper—Paul Prudhomme's Louisiana trinity—with the cauliflower, add some bacon, tasso, or andouille, and when the vegetables are softened add a can of diced tomatoes for smothered cauliflower.

Cauliflower deserves better than being reduced to a pot of soggy, steamed florets. Eat the whole damned thing.

Harissa How-To

I've never been a big fan of ketchup, even as a kid. On French fries I prefer aioli, and condiments like chutney, sriracha and harissa ring my chimes way more than the sugary sweetness of Heinz. Contributor Jim Dixon of Real Good Food shares his recipe for making your own harissa, a version I guarantee is going to beat the pants off anything you'll find in a squeeze bottle.

Cauliflower, Chickpea and Harissa

Harissa, the North African condiment sometimes called Tunisian ketchup, provides a smoky-sweet chile flavor that's particularly good with vegetables. While some of the commercial brands can be very hot, you can adjust the chile heat to suit your palate if you make it yourself.

You'll need a couple of roasted red bell peppers, blackened skin and most of the seeds removed, a few cloves of garlic, a half cup or so of mild or hot chile powder (or dried chiles that you've soaked and drained; there are a lot of recipes online), about a quarter cup of extra virgin olive oil and a teaspoon or so each of ground coriander and caraway (you'll have to grind the caraway yourself, or at least crush the seeds in a mortar and pestle). Combine everything with a good pinch of salt in the food processor until it forms a smooth paste. This makes about a pint, but it stores in the refrigerator for a few weeks.

Chop a head of cauliflower (I include the leaves and core; just chop into smaller bits) and cook it in a heavy skillet with enough extra virgin olive oil to cover the bottom. Add some salt and cook over medium high heat until it's starting to brown, maybe 15 minutes. Add a chopped red onion, cook for another 5 minutes, then add a couple of cups of cooked chickpeas (aka garbanzos or ceci). Stir in a healthy dollop of your harissa, squeeze half a lemon over the whole thing and eat warm or at room temperature.

Quick One-Dish Dining with Cauliflower and Chicken

I don't mean to break out the violins or start wailing "Woe is me!" here, because, when you get right down to it, we're pretty darn lucky to have the bounty of seasonal produce that is coming into the farmers' markets and to have terrific local supermarkets that fill in the gaps. But sometimes I envy those who can reach into their cupboards and break out a box of macaroni and cheese or Hamburger Helper for those nights when you need to get dinner on the table pronto.

But really, even those "instant" dinners require at least a half hour of prep and cooking, especially if you're adding a salad or vegetables to the mix. Fortunately—or unfortunately, if you think about it—I don't actually like the bland, dusty, overly salty taste of most of these convenience foods, so my solution has been to come up with quick, one-dish dinners that I can throw on the table in short order, not to mention actually feeling good about feeding them to my family.

This one was a what-do-I-have-on-hand solution when I'd just hit "send" on my story about Ben Meyer and looked up to see Dave walking in the door after a hard day at work. Oops. So I rummaged through the freezer, found some chicken thighs I'd stashed in there, opened the veg bin to find a head of cauliflower and pulled a can of tomatoes out of the pantry.

Just about 45 minutes later we were sitting down to what turned out to be a dish we'll be having again* even when I'm not in a rush!

Spanish-style Cauliflower, Chicken and Tomatoes

1/4 tsp. saffron threads
1 tsp. salt
2 Tbsp. olive oil
2 lbs. chicken thighs, cut in 1” pieces
1 yellow onion, chopped fine
3 cloves garlic, chopped fine
1/2 tsp. Spanish smoked paprika (pimenton)
2 bay leaves
1 28-oz. can tomatoes
1 head cauliflower, separated into small florets
10-12 green olives, sliced crosswise into 1/8” slices  (I used Spanish anchovy-stuffed olives)

Place saffron threads and salt in the bowl of a mortar and pestle and grind the saffron threads into the salt with the pestle. There’s no need to pound it…the sharp edges of the salt crystals will do most of the work for you.

Pour oil into a deep skillet over medium heat. When the oil shimmers, add the chicken and brown, turning pieces occasionally. Add onion and garlic and sauté till tender. Add remaining ingredients, bring to a simmer, then reduce heat to keep it at a steady simmer for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally. Serve over rice.

* Next time, assuming I'm not pulling this together at the last minute, I'm going to add chopped Spanish-style chorizo to the sauté. Even more delicious and totally company-worthy.

Creamy Comfort, Thy Name is Cauliflower

What is it about creamed dishes that are so comforting on chilly winter nights? They're like wrapping up in your favorite blanket with a good book and a warm dog asleep at (or preferably on) your feet. Not to get all cliché, but it's that indefinable, je ne sais quoi of texture, flavor and warmth that spells cozy with a capital C.

This simple cauliflower soup warmed us up the other evening, and was terrific for lunch a couple of days later.

Cream of Cauliflower Soup

For the soup:
1/4 c. butter or margarine
1/4 lb. bacon or pancetta, chopped in 1/4” cubes
2 med. onions, chopped
3 cloves garlic, roughly chopped
1 tsp. basil
1/2 tsp. thyme
1 head cauliflower, separated and chopped in 1" pieces
2 c. chicken or vegetable stock
Salt to taste

For the roux:
4 Tbsp. butter or margarine
4 Tbsp. flour
1 c. milk
4 oz. (1/2 c.) sour cream or cream cheese

Melt butter in large sauce pan or soup pot. Add bacon or pancetta and sauté till fat is rendered. Remove bacon and save for garnishing the soup.

Add onions to fat in pot and sauté over medium heat until translucent. Add garlic and sauté briefly to warm, then add basil and thyme and sauté until fragrant. Add cauliflower, chicken stock and salt, then cover and simmer 30 min. until cauliflower is tender.

In separate pan melt butter over medium-low heat. Remove from heat and stir in flour until lumps disappear. Return to heat and, stirring constantly, cook the roux for one minute until it loses its raw taste. Still stirring, add milk. When it starts steaming and thickens, add sour cream or cream cheese and stir till it melts into the sauce.

Remove soup from heat and add roux, combining it thoroughly. With immersion blender, blend until soup is a thick, creamy consistency. (This can also be done in batches in a blender, but the soup must be cooled first.) Return to low heat for 30 minutes to allow flavors to blend. Adjust salt. Serve in bowls garnished with bacon cubes.

Creamy Goodness

There's nothing much more satisfying than a piping hot bowl of soup and a warm slice of fresh bread on a cold winter night. And that's just what I was in the mood for last night as the temperature outside plunged below freezing and I added another layer of clothing to my ensemble.

Not to go off topic, but when my brother gave me an immersion blender for Christmas many years ago, I thought, "Oh, great…another kitchen tool that's going to molder on a back shelf for years until it gets sent off with all the other junk we don't need."

I couldn't have been more wrong, since it's become my go-to appliance for all manner of puréed sauces and soups. Which is where we rejoin the theme established in the first paragraph. (Ha!) Noticing that I had leeks, potatoes and cauliflower all ready to be put to use, I decided to attempt a decadently comforting concoction, something kind of like a smooth chowder.

Roasting the cauliflower didn't add much more effort or time to the process, since it roasted in about the time it took to get the other ingredients prepped and simmering. Then it was just a matter of getting the creaminess I was looking for, which came when I added the sour cream (Tofutti sour cream, in our case, due to Dave's lactose issue). With the aforementioned warm loaf of bread and a green salad with vinaigrette to complement the comfort, we were some happy winter denizens!

Creamy Potato, Leek and Roasted Cauliflower Soup

1 medium head cauliflower, cored and divided into small florets
4 Tbsp. olive oil, divided
1/4 tsp. salt
1 medium onion, chopped fine
2 cloves garlic, chopped fine
2 leeks (white and light green parts only), halved lengthwise and sliced crosswise into 1/2"pieces
2 medium russet potatoes, peeled or unpeeled, cut in 1/2" cubes
1/4 tsp. dried thyme
8 c. chicken stock
1/2 c. sour cream, optional
1/4 tsp. white pepper
Salt to taste

Preheat oven to 375°.

Place cauliflower florets in large bowl and add 2 tablespoons olive oil and 1/4 teaspoon salt. Stir to combine. Put in Pyrex baking dish in single layer and place in oven. Roast for 40 minutes or until fork easily pierces thickest parts.

While cauliflower is roasting, heat remaining 2 tablespoons of oil over medium heat in soup pot or Dutch oven. Add onion and garlic and sauté till tender. Add leeks and sauté till wilted. Add potatoes and sauté for about 10 minutes, then add thyme and stir to combine. Add chicken stock and bring to a simmer. When cauliflower is tender, add to pot and simmer another 20 minutes or so. Add sour cream, if desired, and white pepper. Using immersion blender, purée until smooth, then adjust salt to taste. Serve immediately or keep warm on the stove on lowest setting, stirring frequently to prevent scorching.

Don't Call It Vegan

There's something about the term "vegan" that really rubs people the wrong way. It has a certain holier-than-thou tone to it, as if all other foods, the ones most of us eat, have been declared unclean.

Even worse, the foods deemed worthy of consumption have a reputation for being dull and flavorless. Think tofu, brown rice or rutabagas. Then there are the foods that try to mimic cheese or bacon or turkey and fall pathetically short. Which makes the vegetarian diets of yore look positively lush by comparison.

But you don't have to take a lemons-into-lemonade, turn-that-frown-upside-down attitude to switch your thinking around to what you can have instead of what you can't. Think of the intense flavors we love: heat, spice, sweet. All perfectly fit a vegan diet. Then there are the fats: olive oil, sesame oil and nuts spring to mind. And the great flavors of legumes, fresh greens, squash, garlic, mushrooms. Makes you think, right?

So when I saw the following recipe in John Ash's book From the Earth to the Table,it looked like a tasty new pasta recipe using pesto, cauliflower, pasta and beans. Not some wacky vegan food-like substance. Try it sometime when you're craving a flavor-packed, hearty dinner. You'll be surprised when you don't feel like you've done without.

Pasta with Roasted Cauliflower and Parsley Pesto
Adapted from John Ash's From the Earth to the Table

For the pesto:
4 c. packed fresh parsley leaves
4-5 cloves garlic, fresh or roasted
2 Tbsp. pine nuts, fresh or toasted
Zest of 1 lemon, grated
1/2 c. olive oil
Salt to taste

For the pasta:
1 med. cauliflower
2 Tbsp. olive oil
1 lb. rigatoni, penne or other pasta
3/4 c. kalamata olives
1 c. cannellini, borlotti or other beans, cooked
Mint sprigs for garnish

Put parsley, garlic and pine nuts in bowl of food processor. While processing, drizzle in olive oil until smooth. Empty processor into medium-sized bowl and add rest of ingredients. Combine.

Preheat oven to 350°. Break cauliflower into 1" pieces and place in large mixing bowl. Drizzle with olive oil and stir to coat. Empty into 9" by 12" roasting pan and place in oven for 30-40 minutes until nicely browned.

While cauliflower is roasting, bring a large pot of salted water to boil. When cauliflower is almost done, put pasta on to cook until just al dente. Drain and put in large serving bowl, adding pesto, roasted cauliflower, olives and beans. Mix. Serve garnished with chopped mint leaves.

* You can also add 1/4 c. parmesan to the pesto, and served grated parmesan at the table for sprinkling.