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Food: Gardening:
What
Awaits
ENTERTAINING FOR A VEGGIE PLANET, by Didi Emmons. Houghton Mifflin Company, 2003. $18.95. As a lifelong omnivore, one of the things I have always tripped on about the vegetarian menu has been my own presumption that such fare is always austere, always a chore to prepare and to enjoy, always missing … something. I have lived in Eugene long enough now and dined heartily on enough vegetarian dishes to know that this presumption is false, false, false — from Ritta's veggie burritos to Café Yumm's Hot and Jazzy Deluxe to Cornucopia's Angela's Original veggie sandwich to any variety of pad thai selections in this town, there's no end to the vegetarian meals that make me forget about meat altogether. But still, on first mention of the veggie option, particularly preparing said option, my monkey mind jumps to what's missing rather than what awaits. But Didi Emmons is changing my monkey mind. Author of Veggie Planet and chef of the Cambridge, Mass., restaurant by the same name, Emmons has authored a new cookbook, Entertaining for a Veggie Planet. Emmons' approach to food is hip and a little sassy, kind of Nigella Lawson meets Laurel's Kitchen and Moosewood Cookbook Classics, with just a pinch of Martha-esque propriety that makes me want to straighten my napkin and pay attention to the delicacy that is veggie cuisine. Included among the recipes are tips, and for lack of a better description, micro-essays on entertaining vegetarian-style. I particularly enjoyed a piece called "I have a dream …" where Emmons envisions the perfect vegetarian Thanksgiving. She writes, "I'll stir things up. I'll serve a series of the most inventive and scrumptious dishes, using local and unusual produce. Everyone at the table will enter a state of bliss, their personalities exuding love and warmth. Not even my father will notice that meat has been omitted." Another little essay titled "Come and Get it Now!" counsels guests not to dilly-dally and to sit when served, showing respect for the hardworking cook. Chapters include "Nibbles and Drinks," "Rent-a-Video Burgers, Pizzas, Sandwiches and Snacks," "'Companyments" (which includes a fantastically easy recipe for Chipotle Ketchup), and "Memorable Mornings," which celebrates breakfast and brunch and includes the recipe for French Toast Stuffed with Apples and Walnuts (see right). This is a great way to celebrate a free Saturday or Sunday morning (or afternoon!). More than once since I received this book, it has been the first thing I pull off the shelf when I'm at a loss for a meal idea. The recipes are easy to follow and execute, though some of the ingredients, like pomegranates, black sesame seeds, truffle oil and miso, may be daunting to the novice cook. For the most part, though, Emmons keeps things straightforward, and she never skimps on flavor, including butter, cream, cheese and salt in recipes as she sees fit. For those who have always gone vegetarian, this is a great book to freshen up the repertoire. For you new wavers, this could be the Laurel's Kitchen of your generation. French Toast Stuffed with Apples
and Walnuts (Serves 4) In a food processor (mixing by hand will also work), combine cream cheese, sugar, and cinnamon and pulse a few times. Set aside. In a medium skillet, melt 1 T. butter over medium heat. Add the apples and saute until soft, about 5 minutes. Add dried fruit and Cognac or orange juice and cook until liquid evaporates, about 3 minutes. Add walnuts. With a serrated knife, make a pocket two-thirds of the way into one bread slice (working on the short crust side), as wide as possible without cutting through the sides. With a butter knife, spread one-quarter of the cream cheese mixture inside the bread, and spoon in one-quarter of the apple mixture. In a large, nonstick skillet or griddle, melt the remaining butter over medium-low heart. In a wide, shallow bowl, whisk together the egg and milk. Dip stuffed bread slice into egg mixture, turn and dip to cover the other side, and place in skillet. Continue with remaining slices and pan-fry until golden brown, about 5 minutes. Turn to brown other side, 3 to 5 minutes. Serve immediately.
Snowy
Delights
In December I returned from a month-long trip and found two plants blooming in our garden. Not roses, not fuchsias — frost in October put paid to summer's leftovers. The only things in bloom in our yard were rosemary and winter jasmine. Flowers in winter always come as a pleasant surprise, even those that can be relied on. The main reason I grow winter jasmine is to be irrationally startled when bright yellow flowers break out along the green stems in December, right on time. Flowers on rosemary seem even more implausible, perhaps because I associate the plant with the warmth of summer, when its scent is most noticeable. This shrubby member of the mint family comes from the rocky shores of the Mediterranean. Rosmarinus is its botanical name, from ros (dew or spray) and marinus (the sea.) It has narrow, leathery, aromatic leaves, dark green above and felty white beneath, resistant to salt spray and drought. Flowers are small but numerous, in varying shades of blue or, rarely, white. Most books give spring as the blooming season for common rosemary (Rosmarinus officinalis), but the author of Dirr's Trees and Shrubs for Warm Climates says the bloom is most pronounced in his Georgia garden in December, January and February. I expect it depends where you live. Rosemary looks handsome in the garden all year round, and deer won't eat it. It has many other uses, and more than its share of folk lore. A couple of women in the herb business once told me "where rosemary thrives, woman rules." Sprigs have been laid on pillows to keep away bad dreams, and on the graves of loved ones as a symbol of remembrance. A gift of rosemary to a friend means that friend will never be forgotten. There is also the legend that the blue flowers got their color when the Virgin Mary hung her cloak on a rosemary bush on the flight into Egypt. Both Christians and pagans include it among the "greens" they traditionally bring inside for winter holidays. As a medicinal herb, rosemary is said to aid digestion and ease mild headaches. I also have it on good authority that cut rosemary stems repel wasps from the al fresco dining table. I learned this tip too late last year to put it to the test, but some of rosemary's culinary uses have been very well tested indeed. It makes a wonderful flavoring for a pot of beans, roast potatoes, chicken or grilled lamb. I use it most often on pizza (fresh leaves, snipped up small with scissors) for which purpose I am willing to dig it out of the snow, as I had to do earlier this month. Whatever you use it for, it's handy to have some rosemary nearby. This might mean growing at least one plant in a pot. If the pot is portable, you can bring it into the house, or a convenient porch, for winter. There is apparently a compact variety named 'Huntingdon' which might be worth seeking out for a container. Rosemary needs at least half a day of sun and, most importantly, good drainage. An established plant growing in the garden needs little or no summer watering, so it's a great choice for a dry, sunny spot against a house wall. Dry soil will keep growth within bounds, and the more sun the plant gets, the more aromatic the leaves. 'Tuscan Blue' is a popular variety with flowers in a good strong blue. 'Miss Jessup's Upright' (the one I currently grow) is, according to some people, hardier, but the flowers are paler. W. Arnold-Foster, who introduced 'Tuscan Blue' to cultivation, wrote of rosemary: "For its scent it is a delightful plant to grow beside a door or gateway." Other writers suggest planting rosemary next to a bench or path, where you can easily brush it with your hand. 'Prostratus,' the hardiest trailing form, is one of the best plants to soften a hot retaining wall. Bush forms of rosemary can grow four to six feet high and spread even wider, but you can prune them to fit almost anywhere. Pruning is best done in spring, immediately after flowering, although dead branches can be removed at any time. A hard frost can damage rosemary, and stems may split under the weight of wet snow. Root rot from excessive winter wet is a more common cause of dead stems. Rosemary may be short-lived in this soggy neck of the woods, but new plants grow very quickly.
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