Recipe: How to Make Bright Green Pesto

5 Oct

The very last of my basil has flowered, so today I headed out and harvested all the remaining good leaves. It took a while, but the sun was warm on my back, the bees were buzzing gently by, and the smell of the basil as I plucked each leaf one by one, was intoxicating. There are worse ways to spend part of an October morning.

My aim? To make a few batches of pesto to freeze. But the end result looked (and smelled) so good, I couldn’t wait; I decided to use one batch tonight. It will get drizzled over a Sausage, Kale and Bean soup, the thought of which is already making me hungry!

This recipe calls for blanching the basil, which I find is a key way to get the greenest color. Today, I used another trick, too: I added a handful of baby spinach leaves that needed using up as spinach also amplifies the emerald factor. The addition of a few drops of lemon juice makes the pesto a bit brighter, too; I almost feel like it makes the pesto taste greener (is that possible?).

Note: When I am making pesto to freeze, I do not add the cheese or lemon juice. Instead, I add both those things later on to the thawed pesto. So the photos below are pre-cheese, and thus, represent a vegan version that would be delicious on its own, too.

Bright Green Pesto
(makes 2 cups total = 3 batches)

6 c. (slightly compressed but not packed) fresh basil leaves (about 120 gr.); can substitute up to 1 c. baby spinach leaves
3/4 c. toasted pine nuts
6 large garlic cloves
1/2 tsp. salt
1 c. extra-virgin olive oil
*1.5 c. freshly grated Pecorino Romano cheese (preferred) or Parmesan
*lemon juice, to taste

Preparation

1. Set a large pot of water to boil.
2. Pick over the basil leaves to make sure there are no blemishes (or stems). Fill a large bowl with ice water and set aside. When the water in the pot is boiling, add the basil and garlic, and push down on the basil leaves with a slotted spoon (to submerge them), just until they turn bright green. This blanching process should take less than a minute.

3. Immediately drain the basil and garlic in a colander, and then set the colander in the bowl of ice water to stop the cooking.

4. Once the spinach is cold, remove the colander from the bowl, set in the sink, and let the basil and garlic drain for a few minutes. Then place the basil and garlic on a clean dish towel and pat as dry as possible.

5. Put the basil and garlic in a food processor, add the pine nuts and salt, and pulse until the mixture is finely chopped and begins to come together. With the food processor still running, slowly pour in the olive oil and process until smooth.

6. If using the pesto the same day, add the cheese and lemon juice, and pulse again very briefly, just long enough to combine. Do a quick taste test to gauge lemon and salt levels; add more if needed. You can also add a bit more olive oil if the pesto seems too thick.

*7. If freezing the pesto, omit the cheese and lemon juice, divide the pesto among three freezer-proof containers, and freeze. When you want to use a batch, thaw it fully and let it come to room temperature. Prior to using, add 1/2 cup grated cheese and a few drops of lemon juice, and mix well. Do a quick taste test to gauge lemon and salt levels; add more if needed. You can also add a bit more olive oil if the pesto seems too thick.

Recipe: No-Fail, No-Knead Focaccia

22 Sep

This is a recipe I turn to time and again when serving Italian antipasti. It is the quick version of a Bon Appetit recipe, cutting the first rise time from 8-24 hours, to just 3-4. Even with the shorter first rise, this recipe has never failed me. I start the focaccia in the morning and it is ready at meal time, with only a few brief interventions in between while I am making other dishes. If you do have more time, definitely make the original, longer version. But if you need a quicker focaccia fix, search no further.

Note: Wherever possible, it is best to weigh key ingredients on a kitchen scale to preserve the correct ratios between them.

No-Fail, No-Knead Focaccia

Ingredients:
¼ oz. (7 gr.) active dry yeast
2 tsp. honey
2.5 c. (590 ml.) lukewarm water
22 oz. (625 gr.) all-purpose flour
5.5 tsp. (about 16 gr.) Diamond Crystal kosher salt
6 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil, divided, plus more for hands
butter
Maldon sea salt flakes
fresh rosemary (optional)

Preparation:

1. Whisk the honey and lukewarm water in a medium bowl; add the yeast, whisk again, and let sit 5 minutes (the mixture should look foamy or at least creamy; if it doesn’t, you should start again with new yeast).

2. Add the all-purpose flour and kosher salt and mix with a rubber spatula until a shaggy dough forms and no dry streaks remain.

3. Pour 4 tbsp. of the extra-virgin olive oil into a large bowl, as the dough will rise a lot. Transfer the dough to the bowl and turn to coat in oil. Cover with a lid or plastic wrap and let rise at room temperature until doubled in size, 3–4 hours. This is the first rise (quick version).

4. Generously butter a half-sheet (18×13 in./45×33 cm.) rimmed baking sheet. The butter will ensure that your focaccia doesn’t stick. After buttering, pour 1 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil into the center of the sheet.

5. Keeping the dough in the bowl and using a fork in each hand, gather up the edges of the dough farthest from you and lift up and over into center of bowl. Give the bowl a quarter turn and repeat the process. Do this two more times until you have made it all the way around the bowl; you want to deflate the dough while slowly forming it into a rough ball. Transfer the dough to the buttered baking sheet. Pour any oil left in the bowl over and turn the dough to coat. Let rise, uncovered, in a warm, dry spot until doubled in size, at least 1½ hours and up to 4 hours. This is the second rise. By the end of it, the dough should have expanded toward the edges of the baking sheet.

6. Place a rack in the middle of the oven; preheat to 450F/230C.

7. To see if the dough is ready, poke it with your finger. It should spring back slowly, leaving a small indentation. If it springs back quickly, the dough isn’t ready. (If at this point the dough is ready to bake but you aren’t, you can chill it up to 1 hour.)

8. Lightly oil your hands. Gently stretch the dough to completely fill the sheet. Dimple the focaccia all over with your fingers, creating very deep depressions in the dough (reach your fingers all the way to the bottom of the pan). Drizzle with the remaining 1 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil and sprinkle with the flaky sea salt (and rosemary, if using). Bake the focaccia until it is puffed and golden brown all over, 20–30 minutes.

Photos below are from two different bakes; one with flaky salt only, the other with rosemary and coarsely ground salt as I didn’t have the Maldon at the time. Both versions are delicious–you really can’t go wrong.

9. The focaccia is best the day it is made, but is delicious toasted the next day, too. My current favorite toppings: burrata and good-quality anchovies. Or burrata and mortadella. Or burrata and marinated tomatoes or marinated roasted peppers. Or no toppings at all….

Recipe: Mediterranean Chicken with Feta and Olives

25 Aug

Necessity is the mother of invention. In this case, I had recently purchased a pack of chicken thighs, without a clear idea of what to do with them — except that now I was home from work and dinner time was looming, I needed an easy solution, and a fairly quick one. So I opened the fridge and cupboards to see what my options were. I guess I could have asked ChatGPT to come up with a recipe, but that would have meant inputting the available ingredients into a prompt, which 1) I was too lazy to do, and also, 2) I like to think that the non-artificial intelligence center within my cranium is still capable of putting 1+1, or 2+3, together to come up with something to eat. (But ask me next week…).

The result of my kitchen scan? I had cherry tomatoes that definitely needed using and some yellow squash from the garden that was now languishing in the crisper bin. Hmmm. What else was in the fridge? There was feta, kalamata olives, and cream. And rosemary outside. An idea began to form. So, what follows is a non-recipe recipe, without actual amounts. I’m confident that no matter how you yourself approach this dish, you can’t go wrong. The ingredients combine into something really, really good!

Mediterranean Chicken with Feta and Olives

Boneless, skinless chicken thighs
Salt and pepper
Dried oregano
Fresh rosemary, finely chopped
Olive oil (I used garlic-infused olive oil)
Cherry tomatoes, cut in half
Yellow summer squash (or zucchini if you have it), diced
Kalamata olives
Feta cheese (cubed or crumbled)
Heavy cream
Oregano (dried or fresh)

Preparation

  1. Preheat oven to 350 F (180C).
  2. Sprinkle both sides of the chicken thighs with salt, pepper, oregano, and rosemary.
  3. In a large heavy-bottomed pot, saute the thighs in olive oil over high heat until they are no longer pink on the outside and have picked up a bit of color.
  4. Place the thighs, and any juices or crispy bits from the pot, into a casserole dish large enough to fit the thighs in one layer.
  5. Sprinkle the olives, tomatoes, squash, and feta around the thighs, drizzle with some cream, and sprinkle a little more salt, pepper, and oregano over top.

6. Bake, covered, for about 30 minutes, or until the tomatoes and squash are soft.

    You can serve this multiple ways: with crusty bread to soak up the creamy, tomato-ey broth, over quinoa or rice, with potatoes or other roast vegetables, etc.

    Tassels and Silks: The Beautiful Anatomy of a Corn Plant

    7 Jul
    Corn tassel consisting of individual spikelets, with anthers hanging from filaments

    Last year, I carved out a patch in the vegetable garden, planted some corn kernels, and was very excited when the sprouts emerged. But a few days later, all the sprouts were severed, laying forlornly on their sides where they had fallen. Upon closer inspection, the sprouts had been pulled up and the corn kernels had been chomped off at the base — clearly the work of chipmunk commandos who had infiltrated the garden at the crack of dawn. Chipmunks 1, me 0.

    This year, I planted seedlings instead of kernels, crossed my fingers, and hoped for the best. As of yet, there haven’t been any corn massacres, so I’ve been able to watch corn plants grow for the first time — and admire their constituent parts. There is a lot to notice, from the stripy leaves…

    Macro view of corn leaf

    … to the beguilingly named tassels and silks. The highly recognizable tassel at the top of every corn plant is the male part of the plant, and consists of about 1,000 spikelets, each containing 3 pollen-producing anthers and their filaments (collectively, the stamens). With 6,000 pollen-producing units on each corn plant, that’s a lot of pollen to be wind dispersed (read more about pollen shed in this great article on “sex in the corn field“).

    The silks are the female part of the corn plant. They form at the base of the ear but are most visible at the tip, emerging from the husk. Their job is to catch the pollen and guide it down to the unfertilized corn kernels (ovules) on the ear. Here’s the fascinating part: Each silk is connected to a kernel (or what would be a kernel if successfully pollinated). As not every ovule gets pollinated, most ears produce about 400 to 600 kernels.

    You can tell when pollination has occurred because the silks dry up, turn brown, and often fall off. You can also tell when pollination hasn’t been very successful if your ear of corn has missing or misshapen kernels. That’s why it’s important for home gardeners to plant corn in a block rather than a single row, so the pollen has more chance of falling on nearby silks rather than being completely blown away from the row.

    I don’t have any photos of pollen on the silks, but this is what the tiny yellow pollen grains look like on a corn leaf, along with some spent anthers (they drop off the tassel after the pollen is shed).

    Some of the 2-5 million pollen grains produced by each corn tassel (and some anthers)

    Though corn is pollinated by the wind (anemophily), pollination can also occur with the help of insects (entomophily). Luckily for me, as I was taking photos of the tassels, a bumble bee appeared. Or, more specifically, a female bumble bee appeared–as the females are the only ones to have pollen baskets (corbiculae) on their hind legs.

    Recipe: Caramel Mud Cake with Caramelized White Chocolate Ganache

    30 Jun

    I first discovered dense, delicious mud cakes when we lived in Australia. Traditional mud cakes are rich, fudgy, and very chocolatey — which may explain the name. They are said to have originated in the southern U.S.; the Mississippi variant has marshmallows melted into the frosting on top, while the Aussie version is often topped with a velvety ganache. Mud cakes are single layer, and most are baked low and slow. They also freeze very well.

    This particular cake is not chocolate–but caramel, and is an amalgam of two recipes. The ganache is adapted from the Australian Women’s Weekly, and the cake from taste.com.au. The amount of ganache listed here is just enough to cover the cake, and when the cake is also served with whipped cream, it is perfect. If you really, really love frosting/ganache, then make 1.5x the recipe. Which I will do next time….

    Ingredients

    Caramelized White Chocolate Ganache
    300 grams (10.5 oz) white chocolate chips
    1/2 cup (125 ml) heavy cream
    1 tsp vanilla
    1/4-1/2 tsp table salt, to taste

    Mud Cake
    Melted butter, to grease
    200 gr (7 oz) butter, cubed
    200 gr (7 oz) white chocolate chips
    200 gr (7 oz) dark brown sugar
    180 ml (3/4 cup) hot water (or milk; can also sub in a little whiskey for a boozier cake)
    1 tbsp golden syrup, maple syrup, or dark corn syrup
    1 tbsp vanilla
    2 eggs, at room temperature
    150 gr (1 cup) all-purpose flour
    150 gr (1 cup) self-raising flour [= 1 cup all-purpose flour + 1 tsp baking powder + ½ tsp salt + ¼ tsp baking soda]

    Preparation

    Ganache
    1. Preheat oven to 180C/350F. Scatter chocolate evenly over base of a shallow baking dish/cake tin and bake for about 15-20 minutes, stirring a few times with a rubber spatula, until caramel in colour (the chocolate will be crumbly, and will slowly change color; keep stirring and baking until it is a rich chocolate brown).

    2. Transfer to a large bowl. Bring cream almost to the boil in a small saucepan and pour over chocolate. Mix until semi incorporated, then blend with an immersion blender until smooth.

    3. Cover and refrigerate for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally, or until ganache is of a spreadable consistency.

    Mud Cake
    1. Preheat oven to 160C (320F). Brush a round 22 cm (8-9 inch) cake pan with melted butter. Line base and sides with parchment paper, then spray the paper with baking spray or gently brush more melted butter over. [Note: If you forgot to take your eggs out earlier, you can let them sit in some hot water while you get the cake tin and the rest of the batter ready.]

    2. Place butter, white chocolate, sugar, water, syrup, and vanilla in a heavy-based saucepan. Stir over medium-low heat for 5 minutes or until white chocolate melts and mixture is smooth. Set mixture aside for 20 minutes to cool.

    3. Add eggs to white chocolate mixture in saucepan, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Sift in the flours (plus the extra ingredients if you don’t have self-raising flour) and stir until well combined.

    4. Pour mixture into pan and bake in preheated oven for 50 mins or until a skewer comes out almost clean. Let cake sit for 20 mins before turning onto a wire rack to cool. Frost with ganache and enjoy! (Or, refrigerate, covered, for up to three days; let come to room temperature before serving.)

    Recipe: Zucchini Carpaccio

    26 Jun

    This refreshing, no-cook zucchini recipe (which I very slightly adapted from the New York Times) is just the thing when it’s hot outside, you have zucchini to use up, and you’d like to make an impression. It’s an unusual recipe in that the thinly-sliced zucchini is raw, though nicely marinated and softened in lemon juice (a bit like what happens with ceviche). Definitely worth a try.

    Ingredients:
    2 medium zucchini
    salt
    2 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
    freshly squeezed juice of 1/2 lemon (or more, as needed)
    2-3 tbsp. of the best olive oil you have
    2 tbsp. toasted pine nuts
    torn or chopped fresh mint, to taste
    Optional: 1 tbsp. Parmesan (or Pecorino Romano) shavings, 1 tablespoon currants, 1 tsp. honey, and/or freshly ground black pepper

    Directions:
    1. Slice zucchini lengthwise with a mandoline or chef’s knife as thinly as you can, and sprinkle lightly with salt. Place in a colander for 30 minutes to remove the excess moisture, tossing occasionally.
    2. Dry the zucchini on paper towels and arrange the slices in layers on a shallow platter or serving dish, adding slices of garlic between the layers, and drizzling each layer with some of the lemon juice (if you run out, squeeze some juice from the other half of the lemon).

    3. Marinate, refrigerated, for at least 15 minutes and up to 1 hour.
    4. Drizzle olive oil over and top with pine nuts and mint (and any of the optional ingredients, if using).

    The Differences Between Cycads, Palms, and Ferns

    25 Jun

    There are certain plants with pointy pinnate leaves (ie, leaves connecting to the stalk like quills on a feather) that look very alike, even though they are not at all related: cycads, palms, and ferns. For one, they evolved millions of years apart. Ferns, which reproduce by dispersing spores, appeared at least 360 million years ago, long before seed-bearing plants. Cycads are among the earliest of the seed-bearing plants and have been around for about 280 million years. The evolution from spores to seeds was one of two dramatic land-plant developments. The other was the emergence of flowers about 100 million years ago, after which palms arrived on the scene. At a mere 60 million years old, palms are botanical babies compared to the other two, though all three shared time and space with dinosaurs.

    There are many ways to tell the three plants apart. Cycads and palms have woody trunks; ferns do not. And fern fronds are much softer and more delicate than stiff and spiky palm fronds or cycad leaves (some of which look positively lethal):

    Alexandria cycad (Encephalartos arenarius), UC Berkeley Botanical Garden

    Distinguishing between cycads and palms can sometimes be tricky as they both have crowns of pointy leaves atop a woody trunk. For a while, I assumed if it was tall and tree-like, it was a palm, and if it was closer to human height and a bit bushier, it was a cycad. Then I saw the Albany Cycad at the San Diego Zoo (at 500 years old, it is the Zoo’s oldest plant); it is taller than I am and looks a lot like a palm tree.

    But there is a way to tell tall cycads and palm trees apart: look at the trunks. Cycad trunks are rough and stocky while palm trunks are slimmer. Also, while both plants have scarring on their trunks where the leaves have fallen off, cycad leaf scars appear in a spiral pattern, while palm leaf scars often look like rings around the trunk. So if you see ringed scarring on a tall and elegant trunk, that’s a good clue that you are looking at a palm and not a cycad.

    Another difference is that cycads are gymnosperms and palms are angiosperms, but those terms aren’t very helpful unless you know that gymnosperms = cones, and angiosperms = flowers and fruits. So if you are looking at an as-of-yet-unidentified plant with stiff and spiky pinnated leaves and see a cone at the center of those leaves, it’s a cycad. And that cone is why cycads are most closely related to conifers.

    If you see any flowers at all (or fruits such as coconuts, dates, or berries), it’s a palm. Ferns are neither gymnosperms nor angiosperms; they are primordial, vascular plants and do not produce flowers, fruits, or cones. So if you are looking into what you think is a clump of ferns and see a cone, it’s not a fern. If you see a woody trunk, it’s also not a fern. But, if you see spores on the underside of the fronds, it IS a fern!

    Spores on the underside of Florida Strap Fern

    Finally, a word about Sago Palms, a group of palm-like plants that are actually cycads. They got their name because way back when, someone else had a hard time telling them apart. (So glad I am in good company.)

    Misnamed Cycad: Cycas circinalis (Queen Sago Palm), Garfield Park Conservatory, Chicago

    A final twist to this tale: though cycads can look like palms, their young, emerging leaves look remarkably similar to unfurling fern fronds. I don’t have a photo of a cycad leaf unfurling (unfortunately), so the first photo below is kindly borrowed. I’ve added a fern photo I do have for comparison. One could easily be forgiven for mistaking an unfurling cycad for a fern. But take a careful look at the rest of the plant. Touch the mature leaves to see how hard or soft they are and whether there are any spores underneath, see if there is a woody trunk (if so, look at leaf scarring), check for cones or fruits. All those things will point you in the right direction.

    The Hidden Parts of Lupines

    26 May

    I had bad luck growing lupines from seed last year; the resulting plants started out well but didn’t make it past spring. I’d like to blame the local rabbits, except for the fact that lupines are poisonous, so maybe a very brave rabbit could have eaten one of my small lupines, but certainly not all of them. So it was probably the fault of a human who shall not be named, not a leporid.

    Still traumatized from last year’s lackluster lupine experience, I decided I would not start any from seed this year. In fact, I would not have any lupines at all. But then, while at a garden center for something else entirely, I walked past three magnificent specimens in full bloom (with many more blooms to come) and couldn’t resist. They were far more spectacular than my seed-started lupines had ever been, and I had three large, empty deck pots back home. So I decided to try them as container plants. If that doesn’t work, I’ll need a Plan C.

    Lupines are part of the Pea family (Fabaceae) along with baptisia,* broom, clover, milkvetch, trefoil, and others. The flowers grow on long spikes called racemes, with the flowers blooming from the bottom of the spike on up. The flowers themselves are distinctive, consisting of five petals. One forms an upright banner, two are lateral wings, and two are fused together to form a curved keel (so called because it resembles a boat’s keel).

    With their lighter-colored center markings, the banners act as sign posts to attract pollinators, ie, bees. (Though most lupines can self pollinate, bees can also help). The two wings form the distinct pea-flower shape and surround the keel, making it hard to see; in the middle photo above, I peeled away one of the wings. The keel protects the flower’s reproductive parts, which are tucked inside it. When a bee lands on the wings, they open up like a clam and expose the keel, which also opens slightly. The bee pollinates the flower by knocking the stigma and anthers together, and in the process collects pollen to feed to its young. The banner then does a really cool thing: it changes color after pollination, to let the bees know there is no more pollen to be had at that particular flower.

    So, while the beautiful exteriors of these flowers deserve all the admiration they receive, what they have going on within is pretty fascinating, too!

    *For flower-comparison sake, here are two photos of Baptisia australis, which also belongs to the Pea family and has banners, wings, and keels. In the last photo, a bee has found its way to the pollen thanks to the banner markings.

    Recipe: Tarte Soleil (Sun-Shaped Spinach Feta Tart)

    11 May

    Looking for a stunning appetizer? Or a great accompaniment to, say, soup or a salad? Look no further than this pastry, which is as good to eat as it is to look at. It requires a little more effort than other things you can do with puff pastry, but is still relatively easy (and, more importantly, fun) to make. And anything that looks this delicious is worth it.

    I love the original recipe as follows below. But, as you will see in some of the photos, I’ve played around with it at times. Once, I added a base layer of tomato pesto to see what that would be like, and used finely chopped red onions instead of the scallions I forgot to buy. Another time I did not have quite enough spinach, so I made up the weight by adding extra feta and shredded mozzarella. So tweak this recipe as you desire — or don’t; it will be delicious every time no matter how you prepare it.

    Tarte Soleil
    (adapted from Bon Appetit)

    Ingredients:
    1 package (17.3-oz. /490 gr.) frozen puff pastry (= 2 sheets)
    2 packages (10 oz/283 gr. each) frozen, chopped spinach — defrosted; see below
    2 scallions (or about 1/4 of a white or red onion), finely chopped
    2 tbsp. fresh dill, finely chopped
    2½ oz. (70 gr.) feta cheese, crumbled ( = about ⅔ cup)
    2 garlic cloves, crushed
    1 lemon, zested
    1 tsp. kosher salt, plus more
    ¼ tsp. freshly ground black pepper, plus more
    All-purpose flour (for rolling)
    1 large egg, whisked (aka egg wash)

    Preparation:
    1. Defrost the frozen puff pastry and the frozen spinach in the fridge for at least 8 hours or overnight. (Note: Place the spinach packages in a leak-proof container, just in case.)
    2. When you are ready to make the tart, place the defrosted spinach in a fine-meshed strainer, and press/squeeze to get as much of the liquid out as possible; you want it as dry as you can get it.
    3. Add the spinach, scallions, dill, feta, garlic, lemon zest, salt, and pepper to a medium bowl. Stir to combine, making sure to break up any spinach clumps. I find it is easiest to use my (clean) hands to do this. You should have 2½ cups spinach mixture. (The photo below is from when I added mozzarella to make up for not having quite enough spinach.)

    4. Find a round object that’s 10–12 inches (25-30 cm.) in diameter. I’ve used whatever I can lay my hands on, such as the lid of a Tupperware container or the lid of a large Dutch oven, each about 11 inches/28 cm. in diameter.
    5. Place one of the pastry sheets on parchment paper (or on a well-floured counter if you prefer, or if you forgot you were supposed to roll it out on parchment paper…). Lightly dust the pastry with flour, both over and under. Roll it out in all directions and dust with more flour if needed, until it’s at least 1–2 inches (2.5-5 cm.) larger than your round object/lid.
    6. Place the round object/lid over the pastry, press to indent, then use a sharp knife to trace the circle. Set aside the excess pastry. (Tip: You can save the excess pastry in the fridge for a couple days, tightly wrapped, then when the urge strikes you can tear it into small pieces, dust with cinnamon and sugar, and bake for a few minutes for a quick and delicious treat).

    7. If you rolled your pastry directly on the counter, now is the time to 1) transfer your pastry round to some parchment paper (preferred) or to a baking mat (if you are out of parchment), and then to 2) place the whole thing on a baking sheet. Brush the egg wash all along the circumference of the pastry round; reserve remaining egg wash for later. Spread the spinach mixture over the pastry base, leaving a ½” border.

    8. Cut out the second sheet of pastry, following the same directions as for the first one. Place the second round of pastry on top of the spinach mixture (if you’re having trouble moving it, fold it into quarters, then unfold it on top of the spinach) and press gently to seal. Using a small cup or shot glass (2 inches/ 5 cm. in diameter), make an indent in the very center. Your pastry might be slightly warm by now. If so, chill 10–20 minutes.

    9. Once the pastry is cool, transfer the whole set-up, parchment/baking mat and all, to a work surface. With a chef’s knife, cut pastry into 4 quadrants, stopping when you reach the center circle. Cut each quadrant in half, then in half again, so that you have 16 spokes. (Note: If cutting on a baking mat, cut as gently as possible to avoid damaging the mat). Transfer the tarte with the parchment/baking mat back to sheet tray.

    10. Working with one spoke at a time, pull gently away from the center (to extend the length of each piece), then twist to expose the spinach insides. Aim for three or four twists. Nudge them around to distribute evenly. it doesn’t matter if they look messy; they will all look beautiful when baked. Freeze the tarte until cold, 10–15 minutes.

    11. Meanwhile, place a rack in the middle of the oven; preheat to 400°F/200°C. Brush the tarte all over with the reserved egg wash; season with salt and pepper. Bake the tarte until well browned, about 30–35 minutes.

    The Unusual Jaboticaba Fruit Tree

    20 Apr

    Ok, if you live in any of the tree’s native habitat areas in South America, the Jaboticaba and its fruit may not be so unusual to you. But for the rest of us, the tree is a sight to behold:

    Jaboticaba; photo taken at the Missouri Botanical Garden in St. Louis.

    The Jaboticaba (Plinia cauliflora, aka Jaboticabeira, aka Brazilian Grape Tree) is a showstopper because it exhibits an unusual botanical trait, ie, its fragrant white flowers and sweet/tangy fruits grow directly on the trunk of the tree, rather than from new growth or shoots. In botanical terms, this is called cauliflory; hence the “cauliflora” part of the Jaboticaba’s Latin name. (“Plinia” refers to a genus of flowering plants in the myrtle family, Myrtaceae, to which the Jaboticaba belongs.) Other cauliflory plants include Durian, Cacao, Jackfruit, Papaya, and the lesser-known Cannonball Tree — which, though they all share this same botanical trait of cauliflory, are not actually related to the Jaboticaba.

    Cauliflory is most common in tropical areas; in the United States, the Jaboticaba can be grown in Zones 9-11. Botanists believe cauliflory evolved for a couple reasons: 1) accessibility: insects and fruit-eating animals that can’t easily get to the highest parts of trees can access the flowers and fruits on the lower parts of the trunk of a cauliflory plant, thus helping ensure the tree’s reproduction via cross-pollination and seed dispersal. Another reason for cauliflory may be due to 2) structural support: the trunks and main stems can more easily bear the weight of heavy fruits like Durians, Jackfruits, and Papayas.

    Though Jaboticabas are very slow growing, once they reach maturity, they can produce up to 100 pounds of berries, which look like very large grapes and come in different varieties and colors (purply-black, red, and white). The skins are a bit thick and tannic; some people eat the berries skin and all for a nice “pop,” while others squeeze the juicy pulp into their mouths and discard the skin. The pulp is translucent and jelly-like, with a few seeds. It looks a little like the inside of a lychee or blueberry. Depending on the “jabo” variety, the berries are said to taste like Muscadine grapes, blueberries, and/or lychees — or a combo of all those flavors — with slight acidic undertones. Jaboticaba berries are also quite nutritious; they contain lots of Vitamin C and other antioxidants, as well as amino acids and nutrients such as calcium, phosphorus, and iron.

    In addition to being eaten fresh, the Jaboticaba fruits can be made into juice, syrup, jam, and other usually sweet concoctions. The important thing is to use the fruit quickly after picking it, as it has a very short shelf life (which explains why those of us who cannot grow this tree also cannot find the fruit in our local supermarkets).

    Recipes:
    Jaboticaba Juice (video)
    Jaboticaba Syrup
    Jaboticaba Liqueur
    Jaboticaba Jam w/Pectin
    Jaboticaba Jam w/o Pectin
    Jaboticaba Sorbet
    Jaboticaba Cheesecake
    Jaboticaba Sparkling Wine