Cooking With Mollie #8: Beets with Tart Pink Grapefruit Glaze

I have to admit when I saw Mollie Katzen's recipe for Beets with a Tart Pink Grapefruit Glaze, my heart sank a bit. (The recipe in "The Vegetable Dishes I Can't Live Without" is just for beets - the one online is for beets and carrots.)



When I was a kid, my mom made a monstrosity called "Harvard Beets." Hot beets coated in a thick, sweet, orange goo, and this sounded all too similar.

I think she either liked it because my mom has the culinary equivalent of a tin ear, or because she thought she was classing up the joint by serving us something from Harvard. Maybe both.

Mollie's is a better version, though. The Pink Grapefruit gives it a nice zinginess and the small amount of maple syrup leaves it far less sweet than our 1960s Americana version.



You can consult Mollie's recipe online, but here are my notes:

• One large grapefruit yielded exactly one cup of juice
• You don't have to roast the beets - I steamed mine and they were fine, though roasted beets are terribly good
• This is pretty good. A nice zippy flavor. I still like plain beets better, but I'm a beet lover from way back. This recipe may appeal to some people who want to mask the flavor of beets somewhat
• I'll bet this would be gorgeous with Chiogga beets, the ones that are pink and white striped.

Cooking with Mollie #7 - Crispy-Edged Brussels Sprouts

This is more of a vindication than an exploration. I checked Mollie Katzen's roasted brussels sprouts recipe in her fabulous "The Vegetable Dishes I Can't Live Without" cookbook and guess what? Her recipe is exactly the same as the recipe I discovered by trial and error! I am so proud of myself.

You'd think everyone would know how to make roasted brussels sprouts by now, but apparently it is still an unknown for some. Easy peasy.

Preheat your oven to 425 degrees. Peel off the ugly outside leaves of the brussels sprouts, and if they are bigger than 3/4 inch, cut them in half. Roll them around in a little olive oil on a baking sheet, then, if they are cut, put them face down.

Bake for about 10 minutes, then flip them over or roll them around. Bake until they are a little browned and crispy, another 5-20 minutes depending on how brown and crispy you like them. I have forgotten and practically incinerated them, and I still loved the flavor, maybe even more. Mine are pretty dark here:



Now here's the fun part, for me. Of course you should sprinkle them with some grey French sea salt, the kind that sticks together in tiny flaky clumps. And maybe some fresh-ground black pepper.

But what else can you do to make them special?

• A sprinkle of rich balsamic vinegar is great, even fig-flavored Vincotto balsamic.
• A teaspoon or two of briny capers can add a nice salty punch. Paired with a splash of sherry vinegar - oh my yum.
• A blob of goat cheese to melt and mix in right after they come out of the oven. I use jalapeno goat cheese
• A sprinkle of shaved parmesan, the big flaky kind, not the grated kind

Go wild. They're YOUR sprouts, after all. Enjoy.

Cooking With Mollie #6: Coated Carrots Afrique du Nord

I had to step out of the cruciferous vegetables family briefly to deal with carrots. I had a lot of carrots in the fridge, so I decided to make this recipe from Mollie Katzen's "The Vegetable Dishes I Can't Live Without."

Coated Carrots Afrique du Nord (recipe online at Leite's Culinaria)

It involves several techniques: first, you toast cumin seeds in a frying pan, then add ground cumin and cinnamon and toast them too. A blob of butter goes in, then garlic, then carrots cut diagonally into 1/4 slices.

You add some orange juice and salt and saute for a bit. This, to me, gave the carrots an unnervingly nasty scent. Don't worry - they don't taste like this smells.

The carrots get spread on a baking tray in a single layer. Sorry, bad iphone photos.

Bake at 400 for 15 minutes, stirring every 5 minutes or so. Take them out and let them cool for 5 minutes. Sprinkle with lemon juice and your choice of garnishes - a bit of honey, finely chopped fresh mint, or red pepper flakes.

Since it is the middle of winter and my mint plants are dead, I chose the rich, warm Aleppo Pepper flakes from my favorite place, Penzey's Spcies.

The verdict? I have to try this recipe again. The carrots tasted lovely, as you might expect. Cumin, cinnamon, peppers - how can you go wrong? Well, the wrong part, to me, was the texture. They were chewy. I mean, pretty darn chewy. "It's not the taste, it's the texture" levels of chewy.

Perhaps my oven wasn't hot enough. Maybe I didn't leave them in long enough. Or it could be that I made a mistake in using those little peeled supermarket bagged "baby carrots" that aren't really baby carrots at all.

I'll set this one aside for another day, because I think if I get it right, it will be fabulous.

Cooking With Mollie #5: Roasted Red Peppers with Garlic and Lime

I had this recipe done a couple of days ago and I had to keep holding myself back from posting it. It is so good I wanted to share it immediately. If I had your phone numbers, I would have called you all and told you about it.

I present, from Mollie Katzen's genius cookbook "The Vegetable Dishes I Can't Live Without" (yes, I'm going to keep linking it up every day. It's genius, and don't you think I owe her at least that for the joy she gives me?)

Roasted Red Peppers Marinated With Garlic And Lime (yay, Mollie has the actual recipe online).

Could not be simpler. Mollie calls for four red peppers. I had a yellow and a red, so I forged ahead and made adjustments, as we do.

You roast them in a 400 degree oven on a lightly oiled baking sheet, flipping them every 8 minutes or so, until they look like this, maybe 20-30 minutes: You put them in the bowl, put a plate on as a lid, a technique I thought I had invented, but Mollie knew it too. A lot of skinning peppers techniques say to put them in a plastic or paper bag, but hello! 1) Weird hot plastic chemicals and 2) these things leak liquid, so ooh, gross. Bowl. Plate. Trust me and Mollie on this one.

You let them steam in the bowl while you do something else. Then you come back and peel and scrape the skins off with a sharp knife and messily deseed and de-stem them. Chop or slice into rajas (hey, Spanish! But they have a word for "strips of peppers" and we don't. So "rajas") as you wish.

Chop. Drizzle with olive oil, a little chopped garlic, salt and pepper. This is where I would normally stop. But NOW the magic Mollie moment: LIME JUICE.

Lime juice. I would have never thought of that in a million years and yet once you do it, it seems so obvious. The acid perks up the flavor and adds a happy little note of brightness.

I have a secret for you: you could do this with rinsed roasted peppers from a jar. Don't tell your guests.

I ate mine on sprouted wheat toast with jalapeno goat cheese. Pretty dang good. Make this. Eat it. Enjoy.

Cooking with Mollie #4: Sesame Leeks and Cabbage

Do not turn away. I know it's cabbage, but man, this dish is good. It's one of those simple things that will leave you wondering "Why didn't I think of that?"

How simple is it? You don't even need a recipe, really, though you definitely should buy Mollie Katzen's book, "The Vegetable Dishes I Can't Live Without."

No, she isn't paying me to say that. I'm just hoping for a dinner invite when I get done with this. Yeah. We saw how well that worked out for Julie in the Julie Julia movie. (If you didn't see the movie, there is some indication that Mrs. Child was NOT pleased at Julie's blogging efforts about Mastering the Art of French Cooking.)

Back to how simple the recipe is: You slice some leeks and wash them. Coupla leeks if you can get the big fat ones like I get from the organic farm, probably 4 or 5 if you can only find small ones. You chop some cabbage, 4 cups more or less.

Saute the leeks with some oil in a deep pan for about 10 minutes, then throw the cabbage in, cover, voila.

Saute, stirring occasionally, until everything begins to stick to the bottom of the pan, so you'll have some lovely browned bits mixed in.

Salt. Pepper. A drizzle of dark sesame oil. A sprinkle of toasted sesame seeds. You're done!

Except I wasn't done. I cooked up some noodles from a yaki soba package (throw the nasty seasoning away) and sauteed tofu chunks to mix with the cabbage for a nice hot lunch.

I thought of a great alternative to this recipe, too - instead of a drizzle of sesame oil, use roasted walnut oil and chopped walnuts. This would be especially good if you could swap out the cabbage for the delicate crinkly Savoy cabbage. Savoy cabbage season lasts about 3 weeks around here, so I'll have to try that next year. I can't wait.

Bon appetit.