Before winter ends
Notes and non-recipes on simple things that I’ve enjoyed cooking in the supposedly coldest time of the year
Perhaps it is already too late. In fact I think it is. Winter is over, that blazing sun last thursday celsius shining through trees in full bloom and bringing up the day to 19 degrees was a sure sign. Or perhaps the quest is faulty to begin with. What winter exactly? We haven’t had one of those in the last couple of years where I live.
Which brings me to the subject of anxiety. The arrival of Spring, joyous and warm and outdoorsy as it is, makes me anxious. It brings to mind things such as summer. And summer is long, long, long and cruel. And relentless. The end of a nonexistent winter asks for geering up for a never ending summer, too soon. Before I’ve gathered up my forces to come out of lethargy.
Before you know it it’s all about vacations, sand and sea, huge sun umbrellas, the obsession with dolce vita and tanned bodies stretching lazily on beaches or on boats. Things I can neither afford nor enjoy as much as it is expected of me. The warming up of the air makes me think constantly of all the things I should’ve done before the work year ends and people start telling you “ne parleremo a settembre”. We’ll talk about it in September. Life rushes by in short cycles in Italy. Like the year’s already over after its first quarter.
It’s not that I particularly love the dark, short days or the (very, very mild) cold, but I find winter is a much gentler space for me to be. There are things that I’d like to hold on to before this precious time slips by, most of which come in various shapes of the cabbage family, which I often eat with one shape of pasta or another. Shorter, warmer winters also mean less chances of hearty soups and sh too. So In those few dishes that I have cooked, there’s been a rather heavy presence of what can be best described as “warm salads”.
Some things (aka non-recipes) I’ve tried and liked
Roasted cauliflower with turmeric and a pepper based spices such as paprika or a proper Spanish pimentón, which does taste different from other kinds. You can also grate a clove of garlic but I tend to avoid it, it’s harsh on my stomach sometimes. I like adding some ginger, or perhaps something a bit hot, like actual chili. Sweet potatoes (boiled for 5-ish minutes in salted water) and different types of squash work great in this mix. I like to add pulses, lentils, because they cook quickly (which is very weird, they didn’t back in Iran), or chickpeas out of a can. Sometimes I mix this directly with a bag of bitter leaves. They’re quite decent here. Other times I also boil some of the cauliflower and blend it with some tahini and lemon to make a creamy bed to hold salads like this. This works even better with Romanesco broccoli. It’s a recipe I learned from Domenico Cortese, the chef at Marigold (our beloved restaurant, now closed)
tomatoes roasted with EVO, chickpeas with EVO and chili, broccoli roasted with miso Broccoli roasted with miso, which apparently is a classic I hadn’t tried until quite recently. I remember reading a recipe about this which also had brown butter. It might have been the New York Times. Anyway, brown butter is always a good idea in my book but I find it easier to just whisk the miso paste with some olive oil in a big bowl and toss in the broccoli. I’m a novice with miso paste and the surprising part for me was that I still needed to add some salt after roasting. Perhaps I should’ve added more miso to go completely saltless. I don’t like grating a garlic clove here, it covers the flavor of miso.
I do add chickpeas out of a can here too. Rinsing them first and tossing them briefly in a bowl with olive oil, salt and perhaps a bit of chili. I roast everything on the same tray, sometimes adding some unseasonal tomatoes still on the vine. I chopped some fresh onions (the ones from the southern town of Tropea) and added them before serving. We had this with rice once. Other times with more bitter leaves. Once I replaced broccoli with brussel sprouts and that was good too
Radicchio, citrus. Citrus, radicchio. Beautiful, bitter, sour, sweet. Everywhere, anywhere, until available. Sometimes I just put the two together, perhaps with some walnuts. Olive oil, salt, pepper. Radicchio with any type of blue cheese is lovely, cooked (grilled, roasted) or raw. Pink ones and rose shaped ones are too delicate for the oven of course, so they become a salad that works as a table centerpiece too. Oranges with all the other bitter greens and/or fennels day in, day out (or on their own with some celery and pistachios).
I have made a big batch of granola which I’ve slightly burnt so it’s all dark and extremely terrible in photos. I had two large bags of oat brans that I wouldn’t have known how else to consume (some ended up in a pound cake, tbh). So I’ve been having lots of yogurt with granola for breakfast, with lots of blood oranges. This little blood orange cake by
is something I should make before the season’s over.
Big wedges of iceberg, which when turned cut side up, allow all the dressing to go deep inside and transform the iceberg lettuce from something bland and “icy”, to a flavor-carrying, crunchy little boats. For an iceberg salad I normally experience with the Asian part of my pantry. I make a vinaigrette with sesame oil, rice vinegar, soy sauce and tahini (because I don’t have Japanese sesame paste). Not sure if this still can be called a “vinaigrette”. Apple, for more crunch still, and for sweetness. Eggs for creaminess and a bit of protein.
Ribbons of carrot and lentils, with a bit of celery or tops of spring onions and doused in fresh lemon juice are unexpectedly tasting. Refreshing, yet filling. These particular lentils had been cooked with onion and a dash of turmeric in a pan. The night I made the salad with roasted and spicy cauliflower I boiled an unnecessarily big batch of lentils and we ended up eating lentils for a few nights. Once I turned them into Adas Polow, the Iranian Mujaddara — rice and lentils and fried onions with turmeric, cinnamon and saffron and served with raisins. There were still lentils left though, and there was also a vulgarly big amount of carrots that looked at me threateningly everytime I opened the fridge. Carrots I believe are my least favorite vegetables in the world. I like the shape and texture of carrot ribbons but I detest peeling away at them until this results is achieved. We had friends over that night and they all loved this combo. So a small win for the lentils, carrots and me
The main dish that very same night was sausages and potatoes. Clearly not a salad, but easier than most. Organic, unpeeled (and new-ish) potatoes scrubbed, cleaned, halved or quartered even, suggages and some cherry tomatoes still on the wine. I tossed everything in olive oil and sprinkled salt and pepper. I added more than half a jar of little onions pickled in balsamic vinegar because I had used onions in everything else I was serving and I also felt too lazy to slice another one. The result was a slightly sweeter and deeper flavor. A keeper. I baked this at about 200 degree celsius until things started getting toasty, then I poured in about a glass of white wine and I put the tray back in the oven until everything was soft and golden. Feeding a few adults rather effortlessly. Rosemary would’ve been nice but I didn’t have any.
This last one is not my idea. It’s a speciality at one of my favorite wine bars in Rome called Faffiuché, and it’s warm bruschetta with — wait for it — shaved cremino (a soft type of hazelnut chocolate from Piedmont), drizzled with peppery olive oil from Puglia and sprinkled with fleur de sel. I know! And yes, It’s as ridiculously good as it sounds. You’re welcome. I shared this one with the incredible Anya von Bremzen when she was visiting Rome.
I hope one or more of these ideas come handy in your kitchen. Keeping fingers crossed next time I’ll have sucked in some sunshine and spring fervor before encumbering your inbox.
With love,
Saghar
Rome made me love winter with its sunny blue skied days. Venice is grayer and colder but I even love winter up here. (also, oh how I miss that cremino with olive oil and salt from my downstairs neighbors at Fafiuche)