Spring In The Hudson Valley
Everybody is beginning to emerge
from their own form of hibernation. We bump into each other while out for a cup
of coffee and tentatively ask “So, how’d you survive the winter?” Whether our cold
and isolated winter experiences deserve a word so dramatic as “survive” is
irrelevant, seeing as the seasonal depression in these parts is pretty significant.
We see purple violets poking out on the shady hillsides and
bright green arrows shooting up from the daffodil bulbs we dug into the ground
in the fall, as an advanced present to our spring selves. We hear
peepers at night and cheer, close our eyes and quite literally soak in the sporadic
sun bursts like we’ve been frozen for years, and switch over to iced coffee
even though it’s not quite 50 degrees. The anticipation and imminence of warm weather
ahead is enough to wake us up and remind us of our social nature. We’ve finally
had enough tea and honey, worn out all our Smartwool socks, used up our wood
stacks, and grown tired of every film and series on Netflix.
I made a little trip out to Saunderskill farm to visit a
special birthday girl and went inside their greenhouse where our herbs and
vegetables are being seeded. THAT SMELL! Moist, warm, soil. AHHHHH! It’s the
best. I’ve cut branches of forsythia, quince, and apple for my bedroom. I’ve
taken a few deep walks into the woods where rich green ferns and moss are
splayed out on the forest floor. My eyes have been so starved for color… These
are the things that get me going...
I asked my Mom what spring means to her and she replied with
a steadfast answer: “PANIC”. We have so, so, so much work to do, it feels
overwhelming. One day at a time, right?
HERE IS A DINNER I MADE THE OTHER NIGHT THAT BLEW MINDS AND
DELIGHTED BELLIES. .
When I was reading my new Vegetable Literacy Book, I came across
the celery/carrot/fennel family section and
since fennel is something I’ve only had raw in salads or dip platters,
my curiosity kicked in while reading this recipe. My Dad insists it’s one of
the best dishes he’s ever had, hm... I discovered that when fennel is sautéed or
roasted, the sugars caramelize (as they do with beets, carrots, etc), turning the
bulb gold and adding a unique flavor with only the slightest hint of anise
flavor you’d get knocked with when eating it raw. The amalgamation of flavors
in this dish is so reminiscent of an Italian pasta dish you won’t believe it’s
a vegetable. It tastes like a tortellini minestrone soup, EXACTLY. ( I didn’t
have saffron and couldn’t afford to get some. No biggie if you’re in the same
boat. It was still perfection).
A white fish goes very well with the flavors.
BRAISED FENNEL WEDGES WITH SAFFRON AND TOMATO
INGREDIENTS:
- · 2 large fennel bulbs, trimmed of stalks and greens (save for another use), halved lengthwise, and cut into wedges about 1 ½ inches at the widest part
- · 3 T olive oil
- · 1 onion, thinly sliced
- · 2 tsp fennel seeds
- · Pinch of saffron threads (I didn’t have any. It didn’t even need it, if you ask me)
- · ½ tsp dried thyme
- · 1 garlic clove, crushed
- · 3 T tomato paste
- · 1 ½ cups fennel, chicken, or vegetable broth. (I was thrilled with chicken)
- · Sea salt and cracked black pepper
- · 1 T butter
INSTRUCTIONS:
- · Heat olive oil in a wide sauté pan over medium heat. When hot, add the onion and fennel seeds, crumble in the saffron, and then cook until the steam releases color from the saffron, after several minutes.
- · Add the fennel wedges and cook them until golden, turning them and the onions occasionally.
- · Once they’re well cooked, add the garlic, stir in the tomato paste, and then add the stock and 1 tsp sea salt.
- · Scrape the pan to release the juices, then cover and simmer until the fennel is tender, another 15 min or so.
- · If there’s an excess of liquid, pour it into a small skillet. When ready to serve, add the butter to the juices, bring to a boil, and then simmer until rich and syrupy. Reheat the fennel, taste for salt and pepper, and pour the sauce over the fennel. Garnish with fennel greens.
