Yellow or green, split peas are sweet and hearty, great for a soothing winter stew. They’re so full of protein and fiber that you’d be wise to dig into them every day — and find more ways to do so. I happened to have quantities of both green and yellow split peas, which taste pretty much the same to me. Split peas don’t exactly have a reputation for having the greatest color anyway, so I figured it couldn’t hurt to mix them up.

green and yellow split peas

My bunch of carrots had especially fresh and feathery greens. They were the reason I’d opted for the extra baggage instead of getting loose carrots trimmed at the stem. You won’t believe it, but a whole, chopped bunch of carrot greens was cooked down in this stew. They’re barely visible once the dish is done, but will have lent it more vitamins and density, not to mention its pleasing, sweet flavor, too. I also added some finely shredded green cabbage to the stew, which likewise dissolved.

adding the carrots’ greens, too

Those, along with chunky carrots, onion and celery made for a variety of fresh veggies to sink your teeth into. I went with a tomato-based stew, using a quart of frozen tomato sauce from last summer. It’s a totally vegetarian dish that way with plenty of flavor. Some winter herbs like rosemary or thyme might be good to bundle in a bouquet garni while it simmers, but I kept it simple with some bay leaves, salt and pepper (and lots of fresh garlic). You can really taste the split peas in the end, which should be cooked just soft enough to melt in your mouth but retain their half-orb shape.

the first slurp

If split peas are the meat, or beef, in this hearty winter stew, then they’re also the potatoes here, too. With enough carbs to fill you up alone, I didn’t see the need to add any more to this dish. Forget adding potatoes, or serving it with noodles, rice or what have you. I think a little splash of hot sauce on top is nice, though.

Mixed Split Pea & Vegetable Stew
(makes about 8 servings)

3/4 cup yellow split peas
3/4 cup green split peas (or just use 1 1/2 cups of either color)
2 large carrots, chopped
2-3 ribs celery (with any leaves), chopped
1 large onion, chopped
4-5 cloves garlic, minced
1 quart homemade tomato sauce (or substitute 1 28 oz. can whole plum tomatoes, crushed up with your hands)
greens from 1 bunch carrots, stems trimmed and any wilted or discolored leaves discarded and coarsely chopped (alternately, you can substitute a bunch of any leafy greens here instead)
1/4 small head green cabbage, finely shredded
3 bay leaves
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
salt and pepper to taste

Heat the olive oil in a large, heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven. Add the onions, carrot and celery and cook over medium-low heat, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 6 minutes. Season with generous pinches of salt and pepper. Add the garlic and cook, stirring, another minute or until fragrant. Add the split peas, tomatoes, and enough water to cover. Bring to a boil, and add the cabbage and carrot greens. Add the bay leaf, and enough water to cover by 2 inches. Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer and cook, covered 2 hours, adding water as necessary and stirring every 20 minutes or so. Season with salt and pepper to taste and serve once peas are soft and stew has reached desired consistency.

Cost Calculator
(for 8 servings)

3/4 cup yellow split peas (at $3.99/lb): $2.00
3/4 cup green split peas: $2.00
2 carrots (at $3.75/bunch), plus carrot greens:$1.00
1 onion: $0.25
2 ribs celery: $0.40
4 cloves garlic: $0.20
1 quart homemade tomato sauce: $4.00
1/4 head green cabbage: $0.50
olive oil, bay leaves, salt, pepper: $0.50

Total: $10.85

Health Factor

Two brownie points: This is one of the healthiest recipes I can satisfyingly eat. It has protein, fiber, and vitamins galore from all those vegetables cooked into a thick sauce. I actually feel energetic and healthy after polishing off a great plate full of it. The only downsides to this dish, if I had to muster up some, are the extra sugars and sodium from the tomato sauce, especially if using canned tomatoes. Try to get the purest kind you can find if so, and be sure to cook a bunch of squashed, ripe tomatoes to freeze next summer, too.

Green Factor

Eight maple leaves: While I haven’t come across split peas at the Greenmarkets yet (if anyone else has, please do share where), I have been able to find organic and totally natural split peas wherever they are sold. This ingredient seems a rare pantry item, but once you do get your hands on them, they last years and years. I just polished off the last of my yellow ones, which I’ve had for at least three. It’s that time of the year to get reaquainted with all your dry goods.

If the thought of sauerkraut with cheese makes you cringe, just think of it as a pickle — finely shredded, lacto-fermented cabbage pickles, that is. What could go better with cheesy, buttery carbs than that? I knew just enough about science to predict that a classic bechamel sauce base (to melt the cheese in before baking) wouldn’t like the additional juices from the sauerkraut, so I skipped that part, and just folded in the grated cheese. And some frozen peas, because there’d be no other color than white (butter, white cheddar, pasta, sauerkraut) otherwise.

strange bedfellows: white cheddar and sauerkraut

It was a good, quick, single person-household meal. Especially if you like sauerkraut. If not making your own, be sure to check whether the sauerkraut you’re getting has active probiotic cultures, as many packaged types are pasteurized and no longer have this benefit (nor the same crispness, usually).

I’ve added the recipe for it at the bottom of this post, but let’s check out some of the entries from the Takedown, since they were sweating it out by the oven much longer than I was.

third-place Audience winner Nazim (center) serves alongside Adrian (right)

the best-dressed team of the night

fellow judge George Motz’s daughter, Ruby, helps count votes with Matt Timms (center)

the judges’ first place pick: a four-mushroom, four-cheese by Andrew Gottlieb

the audience’s top chef: Piers Moreton, a Brit!

As you can tell from these photos, we all had the most amazing time of 2012 so far. Check out Gabi Porter’s awesome pics from the event, too, at Zagat. Or my Flickr set for what shots I was able to grab. In the end, the cheesiest people on earth all gathered on stage to announce the big wins. Judging was two-tiered: Audience Choice, and Judges’ Choice. I had the fond time of discoursing my favorites as a judge along with George Motz, of hamburger fame, and James Mulcahy from Zagat, one of the event’s sponsors. Some macs and cheeses that didn’t receive official award mention but were very much liked by me included one by Greg Erskine, with barbecued beef and bleu cheese, and a team wearing Misfits t-shirts, who studded their mac with pancetta and leeks. Alas, it came down to a small few that did get to take home hefty prizes, although everyone got a complimentary cheese grater.

Judges’ Awards

Honorable Mention (Best Classic Mac): Zeph Courtney (SnapTruckNYC)
Third Place: Susan Palmer (Girl in the Little Red Kitchen)
Second Place: Josh Bardevid and Jennie Pan
First Place: Andrew Gottlieb

Audience Awards

Third Place: Nazim Choudhury (deep-fried, bacon-stuffed mac balls)
Second Place: Stephanie Wortel (“Jackie’s Mac” in honor of her mom)
First Place: Piers Moreton (“The Baby Maker” mac)

So little time, so much to eat! I can’t thank all the home cooks involved for schooling me in mac and cheese over the course of two hours enough. In fact, one contestant also put sauerkraut in her mac and cheese, along with beer-braised corned beef and Swiss cheese, her adaptation of the classic Jewish-New York reuben. Next time, I’ll try to finagle a recipe from the contest — meantime, here’s my take!

Individual Mac and Cheese with Sauerkraut & Peas
(makes 1 serving)

4 oz. shaped pasta, cooked in salted water al dente
about 3 oz. sharp cheddar, grated
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 Tablespoon frozen peas
2-3 Tablespoons sauerkraut
black pepper to taste (the sauerkraut and cheese provide enough salt)

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Cook and drain pasta; return to pot and stir in butter to melt. Stir in 3/4 of the grated cheese, the sauerkraut and peas. Transfer to a small gratin dish or individual oven-proof pot of some type. Bake for about 20 minutes or until just lightly browned on top (you can also transfer to the broiler for the last couple minutes to achieve this). Serve.

a juicy roasted beet

This is a hearty, healthy, and surprisingly savory dish to absorb, too. You’ll get a full dose of antioxidants from the beets, and enjoy their contrast of textures from chewy, dried apricots and crunchy toasted almonds. The quinoa are the blank slate here that provides filling power as well as incredible amounts of fiber and protein, for their size.

You’ve got to have a loose hand with the lemon and olive oil to make this dish really sing, though. I’ve added scallions (or you could instead add chopped red onion) for some bite, and to introduce new color into the spectrum. When it’s a salad after all, I feel there should be some green. Don’t feel bad for buying the best olive oil you can find for this. I like to keep two separate kinds: one for cooking, and one for making fresh salads taste amazing. Don’t use the amazing olive oil if you’re going to heat it up, or it’s a waste (but do drizzle it on top of finished, hot dishes for pizazz).

white quinoa

You can also make this dish with any kind of whole grain. Cooked (but separate and fluffy) barley grains would complement the earthy taste of beets here, too, as well as spelt or wheatberries, or oat groats (which take so long to boil, I’ve pushed them to the back of my pantry).

I would be lying if I told you I didn’t pull these dried apricot and almond pieces out of a bag of granola I had from the Bklyn Larder. There were so many in there! Granola is actually a good comparison for a dish like this. Instead of adding fresh fruit like strawberries to a bowl full of it, we’ve got some red beet wedges, which have enough sweetness to compete with the honey or brown sugar that would be otherwise caked to the oats.

the finished dish, mixed up

Maybe drink a glass of milk along with it to get the full effect.

Roasted Beet & Quinoa Salad with Dried Apricots and Almonds
(makes about 2-3 servings)

1 large or 2 small beets, roasted as instructed here
1 cup quinoa
1 scallion, chopped
1-2 tablespoons toasted almonds, roughly chopped
2-3 tablespoons dried apricots, chopped
juice of 1 lemon
2 tablespoons good olive oil
salt and pepper to taste

Cover the quinoa by half an inch of water. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the water is all absorbed and quinoa seeds have popped open. Let air-dry 10 minutes.

Peel the roasted beets (once cool enough to handle; can be refrigerated for 2-3 days before). Chop into large wedges or pieces. Toss all ingredients together and season to taste. Serve immediately at room-temperature, or cover and refrigerate up to a day.

Cost Calculator
(for 2-3 servings)

1 large beet (at $2/lb): $0.40
1 cup white quinoa: $1.25
1 scallion (at $2/bunch): $0.25
1 tablespoon toasted almonds (from a bag of granola): $1.00
2 tablespoons dried apricots (from a bag of granola): $1.00
1 lemon: $0.50
2 tablespoons olive oil, salt, pepper: $0.35

Total: $4.75

Health Factor

Three brownie points: Red beets are deeply antioxidant, containing many phytochemicals that have been associated with cancer protection, lower cholesterol, tissue growth (from its plentiful folate), and anti-aging effects. Quinoa is an incredibly healthy whole grain: one cup has eight grams of protein, and five grams of fiber. This “mother grain” as the Incas called it has also been associated with cardiovascular health and migraine prevention. There’s not much going against this recipe health-wise, except for the natural sugars in beets.

Green Factor

Six maple leaves: This salad is filled with low carbon-footprint vegetables and grains, but is given its distinction with the help of imported olive oil, and lemons from across the country. A compromise for when the going gets rough in winter.

I used ground beef for these spring rolls, just because I had some in the freezer. Usually, ground pork mixed with bits of chopped, raw shrimp would be the archetypal filling, along with a plethora of vegetables. You could also make a purely vegetable-filled roll, and no one would mind. It’s a crispy, hand-held roll of fried crispness — what could matter what’s inside?

I was hoping no one would discover my fluke of substituting beef, but they did. In a good way. It’s a quite refreshing change of pace, and fresh these morsels did taste, more importantly.

rolling up the filling like a burrito

Aside from the requisite cabbage, scallions and shiitake mushrooms, I added slivers of celery in lieu of carrot, which could be easily be shredded to use here, too. This isn’t your typical cheap Chinese take-out egg roll, I should clarify. Before those oversized repositories for scraps of cabbage were invented, there were many types of crispy sheets of noodle stuffed with meat and vegetables. They are commonly found in Cantonese restaurants, especially dim sum. As it turned out, at the party, someone else made spring rolls, too — a more typical, pork and vegetable version by none other than the birthday girl, Karol. (We didn’t plan that, swear.)

After thawing that beef, I went to work on shredding vegetables to fold it with. Plenty of ginger was grated and plopped in the mixture, along with soy sauce, oyster sauce, salt and white pepper.

just after steaming, the skins are glued shut

Because these rolls are only fried in oil until the skins get crispy, the meat needs to cook somehow first. I found the task of rolling up cooked meat inside one of these wrappers daunting; also, I’m so accustomed to making dumplings with raw meat, and steaming them til their insides cook through. That way, the juices stay contained inside the wrapper, rather than spilling all over a pan. So I followed suit and rolled the spring rolls — raw — and placed them in a steamer before before deep-frying. This also accomplished another task I thought would be difficult: making sure the skins held together during the deep-fry. After five minutes of steaming, the wrappers turned translucent, the meat inside firm and cooked through, and the spring rolls were glued shut, impossible to un-roll.

the finished dish, with soy sauce for dipping

The final step was simply a matter of letting their surfaces crisp in hot oil. It takes all of two minutes per roll to achieve, and you can flip them once during if your oil doesn’t quite reach the top of the rolls (as I did). The pre-made spring roll skins I’d bought seemed to have an especially puffy effect when fried, gasping open in large bubbles throughout. (I’d entertained the idea of making my own skin with a pasta crank, but ultimately didn’t have enough time.) They stayed surprisingly crisp and crunchy during transit, though, so I can’t complain. So whichever style of spring roll wrapper you use, don’t be afraid to innovate.

Steamed-Then-Fried Beef Spring Rolls
(makes about 12-15)

1 lb ground beef
1 1/2 cups packed finely shredded cabbage
1 carrot or 1 rib celery (or both), shredded
4-5 shiitake mushrooms, softened in hot water (if dried) and thinly sliced
1 bunch scallions, finely chopped
1 inch knob ginger, peeled and grated
1 tablespoon oyster sauce
1 tablespoon soy sauce
2 teaspoons cornstarch
1/4 tsp each salt and white pepper (or substitute black pepper)
12-15 square spring roll wrappers
about 2 cups vegetable or canola oil for frying

Combine all the ingredients except the wrappers and oil. Cover and let marinate for at least 30 minutes or up to 1 day.

Place a spring roll wrapper on a flat surface. Spread about 2 tablespoons of the filling about a half-inch away from the bottom edge and the sides. Tuck in the sides and roll up. Lay the sealed part on the bottom while you continue to roll up the rest of the filling in wrappers.

Heat a double-boiler or pot with a steaming rack to a roiling boil. Place the spring rolls at least 1/2 inch apart in the steaming tray with the sealed edges on the bottom. Cover and let steam for about 5 minutes. (You may want to work in batches.) Transfer to a tray and let cool / dry off for at least 5 minutes.

Heat the oil in a small pot so that the oil is deep enough to cover at least half the height of the rolls. Once oil is very hot, place in the rolls separated by an inch. Flip once bottoms are brown and let the opposite sides brown. Transfer to paper towels. Serve with soy sauce for dipping.

Cost Calculator
(for 12-15 appetizer-sized rolls)

1 lb ground beef: $7.99
12-15 spring roll wrappers (at $5.99/pack of 25): $3.50
about 1/4 head of cabbage (at $2/head): $0.50
1 carrot: $0.40
1 bunch scallions: $2
5 dried shiitake mushrooms: $1.00
1-inch knob ginger: $0.25
1 Tb each soy sauce and oyster sauce: $0.25
salt, white pepper, cornstarch: $0.10
2 cups vegetable oil: $2.00

Total: $17.99

Health Factor

Seven brownie points: This is party food, for sure. It’s not something you’d want to eat every day — nor would likely have the time to make as often. The fried oil smell lingers in your kitchen long after these crispy, fattening bites will be consumed. Fortunately, you can be sure that it’s vegetable oil when you make it at home, unlike restaurants that might use lard to fry with. The juicy, meaty, cholesterol-rich meat filling is countered with some fresh and healthy vegetables, though, like the cabbage and carrot, and so it’s not a total loss for health points, especially when they’re kept crisp and fresh with this method.

Green Factor

Six maple leaves: The filling is largely ingredients that are easy to find any time of the year, from local farms: beef, cabbage, carrot. The oyster sauce, as well as the spring roll wrappers, were fairly processed, with some ingredients on the label that didn’t sound too natural. You can always skip the oyster sauce if you just can’t find it or don’t feel like going for it, and replace it with a pinch or two of sugar for the sweetness that it provides.

New Year or not, I have no problem eating a big plate of this any day, and it could be for breakfast, lunch or dinner. It’s easy to change up depending on what vegetables I have — sometimes, celery sliced in long blades that smack of saltiness and still give a crunch, or red onions tossed around just long enough to bring out their sweetness, but not to wilt. This is the essence of stir-fried vegetables, you see — done right, they should have a firm texture and perhaps a little searing on the edges. They taste like a salad, only with a built-in dressing, and warm.

healthy, hardy winter vegetables

And I did live off of this dish, and other versions of it, as a frequent go-to dinner during my two years of eating in. It was either this or fried rice, with much the same stuff thrown in. The noodles are much more delicious, though. The way they slip around with those smoking-hot vegetables is fun to slurp up, especially when slicked with fresh ginger-fragranced oil.

Besides the ginger, there’s nothing exotic you’ll need in order to make this. Some soy sauce, and if you like, a splash of hot sauce of whatever type. I like to use flat, wheat noodles about the thickness of linguine, only made with regular flour instead of semolina. It could be a Chinese or Japanese brand, or you could pick something thinner. The thicker noodles are easier to stir-fry in a pan without sticking together, I think.

flat wheat noodles

dried shiitake mushrooms

I’ve also added some shiitake mushrooms to this version — the dried, and reconstituted kind. You could substitute them with fresh mushrooms, or skip them. For me, fried noodles has to have some scrambled egg in it, too. That’s optional, but certainly makes the dish more filling and rich.

My ideal fried noodles have about equal portions of vegetables and other ingredients (such as eggs) to the noodles. It’s amazing how easy this is to accomplish when you have a good head of cabbage on hand. It could be any kind of cabbage, too — Napa cabbage, red cabbage, or the lowly green one I used. In the spring, you could add snow peas or asparagus, but now that it’s winter I’ve got broccoli and carrot for some color and variety instead.

scrambling the egg first

chopped up and ready to toss

Have all your vegetables chopped up and ready to go. Start with the eggs, and stir them up in the hot pan with your chopsticks to break them up into small bits easily. Remove the eggs, add more oil, and sautee the vegetables until you hear sizzles. Dump in the just-boiled noodles, splash with a minimal amount of soy sauce (Asian noodles do have a lot of salt in them already.) So as not to discolor the scrambled eggs, add them in afterward, and give a final toss.

To a long and healthy life [signal gong]!

Stir-Fried Noodles with Winter Vegetables
(makes 2 portions)

2 bundles Asian noodles, with about the same thickness and flat shape as linguine
2 eggs, beaten
2 cups shredded green cabbage
1 cup broccoli florets
1 carrot, thinly sliced on a bias
2 scallions, thinly sliced
4-5 shiitake mushrooms (fresh or dried and reconstituted), sliced
small knob fresh ginger, peeled and sliced to matchsticks
2 tablespoons vegetable or canola oil
1-2 teaspoons soy sauce
salt and pepper to taste

Chop all your vegetables and keep them within easy reach. Bring a small pot of water to a boil and cook the noodles, stirring occasionally, until just tender.

Meanwhile, heat one tablespoon of the oil in a large, wide chef’s pan or wok. Once hot, pour in the beaten eggs and stir frequently with your chopsticks to scramble (allow some parts to lightly brown). Once just cooked (about 1-2 minutes), transfer to a small bowl and set aside. Heat the remaining oil in the same pan and add the ginger. Once fragrant and beginning to sizzle, add all the vegetables except for the scallions. Season with a small pinch of salt and pepper and stir frequently about 1-2 minutes. Once the noodles are cooked, transfer to the pan and stir to combine. Add a splash of soy sauce and stir to incorporate. Taste and feel free to add more as desired. Return the eggs to the pan and add the scallions for one final toss. Serve immediately.

Cost Calculator
(for 2 servings)

2 bundles Asian wheat noodles (from a large pack for $5): $0.50
2 eggs (at $5/dozen): $0.83
2 cups fresh green cabbage (at $2/head): $0.35
1 cup broccoli (at $3/bunch): $0.45
1 carrot (at $2/lb): $0.30
4 dried shiitake mushrooms (at $6/large bag): $0.40
2 scallions (at $2/bunch): $0.50
2 tablespoons vegetable oil, 2 teaspoons soy sauce, salt and pepper: $0.25

Total: $3.58 (wow)

Health Factor

Three brownie points: Another startling wow. This might have hit rock bottom on the brownie point scale if only a whole grain were used instead of refined flour noodles (hmm, fried brown rice version soon?), but long noodles are the whole point of the New Year superstition. In any case, you’ve got cabbage: a superfood of Vitamin C, Vitamin K, fiber, calcium, and my goodness, lots more. Broccoli, another superfood that packs in a good dose of protein; carrots, a Vitamin A specialist, and a small amount of eggs for more protein (and some cholesterol along the way). The proportions are really what make this special — use lots of vegetables, they’re cheap ones here anyway, and let that fill you up more than the carbs.

Green Factor

Seven maple leaves: While this recipe focuses on winter vegetables, which are easy to find from local and organic sources, the noodles and minimal seasonings used here push it back a point or two.

The plain sight of leeks at a winter’s farmers’ market makes me hungry for soup. This weekend, I was grappling with blustering winds, dogs fiercely pulling at their leashes (attached to my thankfully gloved hands), and a bitter, dry cold that kept my skin as dry as that alligator in the body lotion ad. But I managed to grab a bunch of large leeks from Phillips’ Farm, and the less-common rutabagas from an unfortunately sparse stand for Ray Bradley Farm (hit hard by the hurricane last summer).

rutabagas

separating the light-green and dark-green parts of leeks

If you know how to make the classic potato leek soup in Mastering the Art of French Cooking, then you know how to make this. It’s easy as soup (that’s much easier than pie, right?). I may have used more leeks than rutabagas in the end, just because mine were so gargantuan, but that suited me just fine in the end (and my surprise houseguests who got a taste of the freshly made soup as well).

Leeks sweat in butter, diced rutabaga are added. A simple stock (can be made right there from carrot, celery, and the dark green leek tips too tough to use in the soup) is added, and the whole thing simmers about an hour. I removed a few spoonfuls of the chopped leeks from the bath before transferring everything over to a blender to puree it. Once added back, they lend slippery touches of texture to the silken base. A touch of whole milk, and seasonings to taste, and it’s done.

after an hour of simmering

The fun part of cooking with rutabaga is that nobody ever knows what the heck it is. This could be, on first guess, a cream of cauliflower, or potato leek soup made with yukon gold? Whatever it is, they concede, it smells interesting, and tastes even better.

Creamy Rutabaga Leek Soup
(makes about 4 servings)

2 large leeks, white and light green parts only
2 medium rutabagas
2 tablespoons butter
1 cup whole milk
4 cups chicken or vegetable stock (reserve the dark green parts of leeks to make some)
salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Chop the leeks and let soften in a medium, heavy-bottomed saucepan or Dutch oven with the butter, about 6-8 minutes. Stir occasionally and add pinches of salt and pepper. Peel and dice the rutabagas and add them to the pot. Stir another minute, then cover with the stock. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to a simmer and cook, covered, 45 minutes to 1 hour.

Reserve a couple spoonfuls of the leeks only. Transfer the rest of the mixture to a blender or food processor to puree several seconds until completely smooth. Transfer back to the pot and add the reserved leeks. Bring just to a boil again and stir in the milk. Taste for seasoning, adding salt and pepper as desired. Heat completely through, and serve.

Cost Calculator
(for 4 servings)

2 large leeks (from bunch of 3 for $2.50): $1.67
2 rutabagas (at $1.50/lb): $1.10
2 tablespoons butter: $0.40
1 cup whole milk: $1.00
4 cups homemade vegetable stock, salt and pepper: $2.00

Health Factor

Four brownie points: Rutabagas are pretty awesome for you. They’re packed with antioxidants, and have lots of fiber, potassium, calcium, and even some protein. Plus, they’re oddly filling, especially when combined with the richness of butter and milk (also good for calcium, eh?). I try not to indulge here by using heavy cream or half and half, and the soup is so thick (from the rutabaga puree) that it would seem using those instead of just whole milk would create a less desirable texture, for me. Try it and adjust however you like.

Green Factor

Nine brownie points: Hm, besides the salt and pepper, this appears a 100% local, organic, small farm-friendly dish. I do say it’s easiest to achieve this when using the least amount of (really good) ingredients as possible. Dairy came from Ronnybrook, which I’ve been frequenting at Grand Army Plaza because they’ve been bringing their cute new puppy, Murray, to the market with them lately. If you want to get really eco-thrifty with your purchases here, you could actually save the rutabaga peels and stems along with those leek tops to make your next stock with.

It’s always best when those two ingredients are prime as can be. These eye-catching baby carrots stole me as I tried to rush through the Union Square Greenmarket a couple Wednesdays ago. Sweet, bright orange, and with an icicle-like crispness, they were perfect for snacking (although the farmer at S&SO Farms described them to me as a “chef’s variety”). I couldn’t wait to crunch into them while on the subway back to Brooklyn, and felt bad that everyone on the crowded car watching me couldn’t also try. These carrots, the farmer explained, had surprised them — planted just before Hurricane Irene washed away the rest of their crops, they didn’t imagine the seeds would germinate. But they did eventually, and produced such tasty, little fingers that I wonder if it wasn’t a silver lining to that cloud.

tiny, tasty carrots

white speckled grits from Georgia

I picked up these grits because of their attractive packaging. I’m glad to see such humble, yet nutritious, grains like grits and polenta (essentially the same thing, only usually from yellow corn) get the luxury-food treatment. The grits were found at Bklyn Larder, one of my favorite local cheese and specialty food shops, and they’re described as “Georgia ice cream” on the cloth bag. Indeed, these are some creamy grits, as long as you cook them slowly and with enough stirring that they practically melt into their own starchy sauce. I’m not a Southern girl or Georgia Peach myself, and it was a while before I even knew of grits’ existence (I think it was actually when I watched Joe Pesci’s “My Cousin Vinny” ask a bemused diner cook, “What is a grit?”)

sage leaves after bubbling in browned butter

lemon zest

I was surprised at how tasty this dish turned out, and it’s testament to the charms that just a couple well-chosen, natural seasonings can lend. Sage has a beautifully savory flavor, especially when crisped up in pure butter. The herb’s essence spreads throughout the butter as it begins to brown on the pan, and becomes concentrated in the shriveled, chip-like leaves. The perfect garnish for soups, pasta, or these simple grits. I gave the grits a good squeeze of lemon juice along with butter, too, just to liven them up. As long as I had that lemon, another squeeze went into the sage brown butter to create a sauce that was good enough to scrape from the pan.

Lemony Grits with Baby Carrots & Sage
(makes 3-4 portions)

1 cup coarse, white grits
4 cups water
1/2 lb small carrots (can be cut down to slender, roughly 1-inch pieces)
3 tablespoons butter
10-12 sage leaves
zest and juice of 1 lemon
salt and pepper to taste

Bring the water to a boil. Add the grits, 1 tablespoon butter, and a generous pinch of salt. Reduce heat to a steady, but low boil and stir frequently for 20 minutes.

Meanwhile, melt the remaining 2 tablespoons of butter in a small saucepan with a lid. Let cook until light-brown and bubbling, and add the sage leaves. Stir and flip until leaves are darker in color throughout and a little dried-up looking. Remove leaves and set aside. Add the baby carrots to the pan and stir for 1-2 minutes. Turn off heat and cover while you finish the polenta.

Add the lemon zest (retaining some for garnish) and half of its juice to the polenta and salt and pepper to taste. Squeeze the remaining lemon juice into the carrots and stir to combine with the butter. Plate the polenta first, and divide the carrots and sauce among the plates. Add the sage leaves to each plate for garnish along with the extra lemon zest and serve.

Cost Calculator
(for 3-4 servings)

1 cup grits (at $8/1 lb sack): $4.00
1/2 lb baby carrots (at $2.50/lb): $1.25
3 Tb butter: $0.75
1 lemon: $0.35
12 sage leaves (from houseplant): $0.30
salt and pepper: $0.05

Total: $6.70

Health Factor

Three brownie points: A little butter goes a long way to coddle these healthful ingredients into a sublime-tasting first course or simple lunch. Carrots, especially when cooked lightly like this, are full of vitamins and have a satisfying flavor and bite that makes for a pretty good meat substitute. There’s some protein to be found in the whole corn, as well as niacin, iron and riboflavin, and there’s even some extra Vitamin C from the fresh lemon juice. For a winter dish, it doesn’t get much lighter than this.

Green Factor

Eight maple leaves: The grits were made by a historic granary that’s been in operation since 1876 in Georgia, called Nora Mill Granary, and supporting this and other small agricultural businesses, you’re saying yes to a tradition that’s in danger of being totally replaced. Same goes for local farm products found at the Greenmarket, like the carrots, which really couldn’t be found anywhere else (or at any other time of the year, or in this case, maybe any other year!). Homegrown herbs that do well in the winter include sage, so grab a plant or two to fancy up your winter cooking soon.

Or maybe I am talking about “getting back to your roots,” because according to macrobiotic dieting, eating roots is associated with feeling more grounded, or rooted. And you just might be inspired to talk to Grandma from doing so.

It’s funny because my own Grandma and Grandpa on my mother’s side probably didn’t eat burdock root cooked as a delicacy like this dish, but they most likely encountered the plant as a component of traditional Chinese medicine. You see, burdock has many uses, too — its woody and fibrous root can be eaten when cooked, much like a potato. But the plant has leaves and seeds and woolly burs, from which the seeds are extracted, and all are edible or medicinal in their own ways.

What a range of topics to dispel when at first I had only wanted to cook with some unfamiliar burdock root! If you’re new to cooking with it, like I am, then this recipe is surely the ticket.

sugar, rice wine, and soy sauce

You just need three things: soy sauce, sugar, and some rice wine. Simmer that root until it’s tender in this mixture, and it’s good to chill or eat right away. I don’t care if you cut it into fine matchsticks, or add some carrots to them for color. I’ve seen them sliced in wide slivers at Japanese restaurants and grocery stores (Sun Market!) like this, too, so I’m obliged to take the easiest route and do that. I did sprinkle them with some sesame seeds for serving, though, because they’re attractive (although the black sesame seeds that I had on hand may be less so).

The honest truth is that burdock root doesn’t really need much seasoning nor garnish to taste fantastic after you cook them for a bit. They have a naturally sweet, woody flavor that you can smell after five minutes of simmering it, and its tough texture when raw succumbs to a crisp elegance when simmered. They remind me a bit of sliced bamboo shoots that always came in jars or cans from Asian markets and went into stir-fries when I was growing up — only unlike bamboo, burdock is a hardy root vegetable that’s vastly adaptable to many climates and grows (as weeds even, in our own backyard) readily in the Northeast.

unpeeled burdock roots

So if you once thought burdock a little exotic, pick it up next time you’re at the Greenmarket, where many farmers, I’ve noticed, have been offering it over the years. Especially in the winter, when it can be a little harder to find something more “exotic” or interesting abound.

Soy-Simmered Burdock Root (Kinpira Gobo)
(makes 4-6 small appetizer-size portions)

2 burdock roots about 2 ft long x 1/2-1″ diameter
1 Tablespoon soy sauce
1 Tablespoon rice wine
2 teaspoons sugar
2 Tablespoons vegetable, canola or peanut oil
toasted sesame seeds (for garnish)

Peel burdock root and cut into 1″ pieces lengthwise. Slice into 1/8″ slices lengthwise.

Heat the oil in a small pot and add the burdock slices once hot. Crisp the slices for 2-3 minutes, until fragrant. Remove from oil.

Clean the pot or transfer the burdock to a small, clean pot with just enough water to cover, about 2 cups. Add the soy sauce, rice wine and sugar, and simmer for about 10 minutes, or until root is tender. Drain from liquid and chill before serving (optional). Garnish with sesame seeds for serving.

Cost Calculator
(for 4-6 appetizers)

2 long burdock roots: $6.00
1 tablespoon soy sauce: $0.30
1 tablespoon rice wine: $0.30
2 teaspoons sugar: $0.20
sprinkle toasted sesame seeds: $0.05

Total: $6.85

Health Factor

Three brownie points: Burdock root is a great source of potassium and iron, and has some amounts of calcium, Vitamin C, and Vitamin E. It’s also known as a natural diuretic, cholesterol-fighter, and blood purifier. All told, it comes with very few calories and low sodium.

Green Factor

Four maple leaves: While I have seen and known various different local farms to offer burdock root in the winter (such as Evolutionary Organics, which was hit hard by Hurricane Irene this season), I actually got mine while making a weekly run to the Japanese market in the East Village, along with some soba noodles and such. My plant was grown and shipped from Taiwan, whose hot climates sound somewhat unlikely for gobo. As it turns out, this root can grow so many places, along with Taiwan it grows hardily in Brooklyn’s own Prospect Park, which I learned in a tale recounted in The Art of Eating in. So go forage for it if you’re so brave; otherwise, be on the lookout anywhere.

This is the most recent incarnation of what’s been years of tinkering with dumpling fillings both with and without meat. With meat, it’s much easier to play around; just make sure there’s a good ratio of fat to your meat, and mix away with any other ingredients or seasonings you want (i.e. “cheeseburger dumplings”). Vegetable-only dumplings have a few obstacles. You can’t have too many juices in your filling, and they’re going to be harder to fold since it doesn’t congeal. Also, you want to make them taste as savory as can be.

fresh enoki mushrooms

So I’ve combined two of the most savory plant-based items in these crispy, pan-fried potsticker-style dumplings: seaweed and mushrooms. To maintain a harmony of shape and texture, I used enoki mushrooms, and long strands of wakame seaweed that had been dried then soaked. I added a generous splash of sesame oil, and a little cornstarch to help bind the juices that would inevitably pool from the filling once it gets hot.

dried seaweed strands

soaking in lukewarm water

I’ve never heard of putting seaweed inside any type of dumplings before, but it didn’t taste half bad in the end. A little chopped fresh cilantro and plenty of scallions gave this filling a refreshing taste to contrast with the dank, seaweedy flavor, and some crushed red pepper flakes added a hint of smokiness and spice. I’ve added shredded carrots to vegetarian dumpling fillings before, and would recommend those here too as an option in the filling for some more color, if you like.

folding the filling into pre-made skins

the first bite!

These dumplings were so unexpectedly savory that when my dad tried them, he insisted there was some type of seafood in them. It must have been the seaweed, or the woodsy funk of the mushrooms that led to this (incorrect) determination. I say it was a win for the all-vegetarian dumpling.

Chinese Potstickers with Seaweed and Mushrooms
(makes about 50)

note: for this recipe, I simply used a package of pre-made, round dumpling skins. To make your own (highly recommended, if you have the time), follow the recipe for the homemade dough in this post. If buying them, make sure you get white, round dumpling wrappers which should only list flour and water for ingredients.

1 package 50 round, white dumpling skins or wrappers
2 oz. package fresh enoki mushrooms
1-2 oz. dried thin, wakame seaweed strands, which should yield about 1/2 cup when soaked and packed
1 bunch scallions, chopped
1 bunch fresh cilantro, chopped
1/2 cup finely chopped napa cabbage, squeezed of any excess liquid
1 carrot, shredded (optional)
1 tablespoon soy sauce
2 teaspoons sesame oil
1/4 teaspoon red chili flakes (optional)
1 clove garlic, minced
2 teaspoons cornstarch
salt and pepper to taste
2 tablespoons vegetable or canola oil, for pan-frying

Soak the seaweed in lukewarm water for about 10 minutes, until softened. Drain and pat dry well. Finely chop the seaweed and mushrooms. Be sure to fully dry the rest of the vegetables before chopping and squeeze out water from cabbage. Combine all the ingredients except for the wrappers in a bowl, and add generous pinches of salt and pepper. Can be covered and chilled for up to a day ahead.

Placing a round dumpling skin flat on your hand, drop a tablespoon of filling into its center. Dip your finger into a small bowl of water and trace the edge of the wrapper. Fold the wrapper in half and make a pinch at the top; next, bring a piece of the edge about half an inch to the right of the pinch over to the pinch. (This will cause the wrapper to fold diagonally on the right hand side of the dumpling.) Bring a piece of the edge half an inch to the left over to the pinch next. Pinch the pieces you brought to the center shut and continue to seal the edges to the left and right until the dumpling is fully sealed. From an aerial view, it should be shaped like a crescent.

Heat the oil in a large skillet that comes with a lid. Once the oil is hot, line the dumplings in a circle around the edge of the pan. Fill the center with as many dumplings as will fit – do not squash them against one another too much (you will probably need to cook in 2-3 batches, depending on the size of your pan). Let cook on high for about 2 minutes. Add enough water to the pan to cover about one quarter of the height of the dumplings, reduce heat to medium, and cover. Let cook covered for about 4 minutes, or until the wrappers are translucent and no longer white on the creases. Lift cover, and cook until all the water has evaporated. Remove the potstickers from the pan with a spatula (they will stick) and serve with soy sauce (or soy sauce mixed with vinegar) and/or chili sauce for dipping.

Cost Calculator
(for 50 dumplings)

1 pack 50 dumpling skins: $2.50
1 oz. dried seaweed (from a big package for $5): $0.80
1 pack enoki mushrooms: $1.99
few leaves of a napa cabbage head: $0.30
1 bunch scallions: $1.50
1 bunch cilantro: $1.50
1 carrot: $0.30
1 clove garlic: $0.10
soy sauce, sesame oil, cornstarch, red pepper flakes, salt and pepper: $0.50
2 Tb vegetable oil: $0.25

Total: $9.74

Health Factor

Three brownie points: Wow. For a crispy, salty snack, these have a lot more health benefits than burdens. There’s an abundance of greens inside them, like any good dumpling should have — scallions, cilantro, and some vitamin-rich cabbage. There’s also seaweed, which is great for everything from your immune system to your skin, and has omega-3 fatty acids as well. It comes with the cost of high sodium, so go easy on the soy sauce if you’re especially prone.

Green Factor

Five maple leaves: It would seem as if these dumplings are filled with exotica, shipped in from faraway lands and passed through so many hands. But the ingredients themselves are about as simple and natural as they come — dry seaweed stores and ships incredibly well, with virtually endless shelf life, and they’re as plentiful in the ocean as grass is on land. Mushrooms, cabbage, carrots are all low-impact goods and the dumpling skins should be easy to find made in the States, and once again, contain only flour and water.

homemade kimchi

Kimchi and greasy pork pieces are a natural complement, as one refreshes the palate and the other coats it in oil. The complexities of the spices in kimchi and the smokiness of bacon only enhances the effect. What else to sop it all up with than creamy-textured rice? There are plenty of traditional Korean dishes that are founded on rice and kimchi (often, just that), but a good way to break into them if you’re not Korean is to serve it like risotto. The warm, but still crunchy, kimchi bleeds into the rice, staining it red and adding much more flavor than fresh vegetables. Here, I’ve gone and used some Korean chili powder while sweating the onions, too, just because I had some around and thought it would highlight the color and spice, and stand in for Italian crushed red pepper flakes well. (Use that if that’s what you have around instead.)

sliced bacon

I’m fond of making my own kimchi, hence the accessible spice. So this was a perfect way to use it up. Coupled with some chicken stock made a few weeks ago, and frozen peas that are often found in risotto, it was a satisfying combination that I think represented both cuisines — Italian and Korean — equally. Oh, and the chopped bacon added to the onions while they cooked helped make it a little more universally delicious, too.

I also added a touch of grated Parmesan cheese and butter while it finished, as if I were making any regular risotto. Cheese and kimchi? I say why not? But you can decide that for yourself. The only real question at the end of it all was whether to use a fork or chopsticks for this.

I went for the chopsticks. Happy New Year, foodies!

Risotto with Kimchi and Bacon
(makes 3-4 servings)

1 1/2 cups arborio rice
4 cups chicken or vegetable stock
1 small onion, chopped
about 6 oz. kimchi with some juice (see recipe to make ahead)
about 2 oz. bacon, chopped
1 Tablespoon butter
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/4 teaspoon Korean red chili powder (or substitute crushed red chili flakes, optional)
1 Tablespoon grated Parmiggiano-Reggiano (optional)
1 scallion, chopped (for garnish, optional)
salt and pepper to taste

Heat the olive oil in a wide, heavy-bottomed saucepan. Keep the stock warming in a separate pot. Sautee the onions over medium-low heat until translucent, about 8 minutes. Season with a pinch of salt, pepper, and the optional chili powder. Add the bacon and stir another 1-2 minutes, until just crisp.

Add the rice and stir for 1-2 minutes, until coated with olive oil and slightly toasted. Add a ladle of the warm stock and stir occasionally until almost all evaporated. Continue to add small amounts of warm stock, stirring occasionally, until rice is just tender and to desired consistency. Halfway through this process, add the kimchi and all its juice. In the last five minutes, add the peas. Remove from heat when rice is done and stir in the butter and optional cheese. Add salt and pepper to taste. Serve with the scallions as garnish.

Cost Calculator
(for about 4 servings)

1 1/2 cups arborio rice: $2.00
4 cups homemade chicken stock: $2.00
1 small onion: $0.30
6 oz. homemade kimchi: $1.50
about 2 oz. bacon: $0.70
1 scallion: $0.20
1 Tb butter: $0.25
2 Tb olive oil: $0.30
1 Tb grated Parmiggiano: $0.35
salt, pepper, optional 1/4 tsp chili flakes: $0.15

Total: $7.75

Health Factor

Six brownie points: It’s always good to eat cholesterol along with stuff that’ll help cut it. Kimchi has been known to lower cholesterol, as well as aid digestion with its live, probiotic cultures. It also contains all the healthy vitamins and minerals, like fiber and Vitamin C, found in cabbage. The bacon obviously won’t give much of those, but it does add a strikingly savory element to the dish in just a small portion.

Green Factor

Seven maple leaves: It’s a great time to make your own kimchi — there are so many types of cabbage just in season and fresh. (Napa cabbage is the classic choice for these lacto-fermented pickles, FYI.) There are also some great local sources for the prepared stuff, like Mama O’s small-batch kimchi made with love, Mother-In-Law’s kimchi, and D&J Organic Farm’s own homemade version at the Union Square Greenmarket. Likewise, bacon can be found abundantly from local farms like Flying Pigs Farm, or butchers like Fleisher’s.