Showing posts with label kohlrabi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kohlrabi. Show all posts

Friday, February 27, 2009

Kohlrabi Downed by Fennel

In an alarming incident in my kitchen last week, a giant kohlrabi came flying in through the window looking to establish a colony of its Gongylodes Group, an offshoot of Brassica oleracea (of which kale--and broccoli, cabbage, and brussels sprouts--is a member). This cosmonaut of the vegetable universe had been hurtling through space for weeks looking for a fertile landing ground, when its instruments detected the utopian plane of my kitchen island.

I shrieked in terror at this alien green menace and stood paralyzed as my Global chef's knife slipped from my grasp with a shivering clatter. Luckily, fennel had been lurking, as usual, behind the fridge and made a heroic flying leap to tackle the kohlrabi with ease.


Blinking at the ceiling from my now-prone position on the kitchen floor, I thought of Joan of Arc and drew strength from her to enter the fray. Wielding my sub-zero-treated stainless steel, I reduced the pair into a mass of slivers for a salad, which was enjoyed by all. Both can be eaten raw, sauteed, or roasted.

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Merry Christmas




Every Christmas Eve in Sonoma, my family makes cheese fondue. Since the festivities provide an excuse for us to gather around my parents' wedding-present fondue pot, the recipe we originally followed came from a 1970s Sunset cookbook that included cream of celery soup. In the spirit of my current refusal to purchase any food made from more than five ingredients, this year's concoction of molten white goo consisted simply of white wine, nutmeg, gruyere, and emmenthal. I wouldn't rule out adding half a can of PBR in years to come, in an effort to delay the fondue's devolution into a stringy vortex of errant vegetables when the candle flame peters out.

Unofficially aiming for a balance between tradition, nutrition, and weirdness, we foraged for veg in my mom's crisper before stocking up on the stranger varietals at Oak Hill Farm, ultimately dipping watermelon radish, carrots, crimini mushrooms, zucchini, broccoli florets, d'anjou pear, and green kohlrabi (center), plus walnut bread from Artisan Bakery.

What better way to convince your loved ones to try an unfamiliar piece of plant food than adorned with melted strands of expensive cheese? Happy holiday eating.



**Note, 1/28: check out this New York Times article about the simple pleasure and transcendental powers of eating fondue.