Simplest Asparagus with Fresh Peas

From the archives, just in time for my favorite vegetable to hit the market. Enjoy!

The markets are back open, the cherry blossoms are in full bloom, and I can almost forgive the swarms of tourists and the row of port-o-potties that totally block the view along the tidal basin, because spring has sprung! Thrills.

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After a long winter of stews and soups, rice dishes and noodle bowls, I crave the fresh simplicity of spring produce. When a Sunday at the market sends me home with asparagus, fresh shelling peas, rhubarb, and (cross your fingers!) ramps, I try to prepare meals in a no-frills manner, letting the vegetables speak for themselves. Why kill fresh peas with a gloppy sauce? Why bury asparagus in soup or risotto? Leave those more involved, less spare recipes for another time. These first spring vegetables should be celebrated, I tell you.

At first glance, this recipe looks mighty simple; its success lies in the precise cooking of the vegetables until just tender and golden, and in the careful balance of the peas' sweetness and the asparagus' bitter earthiness with salt, pepper, and citrus. It's also paramount that you serve this dish immediately after cooking. If you plan to let it sit a while before eating it, know that you'll have something just fine, but not particularly remarkable. This should hop off the stove and go right into your mouth.

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If you've got access to really good asparagus, shelling peas, and fresh basil or tarragon, I can't think of a better way to use them. What are your favorite spring dishes?

Simplest Asparagus with Fresh Peasserves 4

1 pound asparagus 1 cup fresh shelling peas, from about 40 pods 3 tablespoons unsalted butter good flaky salt freshly cracked pepper 1/4 cup torn basil leaves zest 1 lemon, preferably unsprayed 1-2 tablespoon lemon juice

Wash and dry asparagus spears. Trim 1-1.5 inches off the ends, and cut on the bias into three or four pieces each.

In a large, shallow frying pan, heat butter on medium until it foams and then subsides. Add asparagus, and shake pan to get pieces into a single layer. Add a sprinkling of salt. Continue cooking, shaking pan frequently, until asparagus are cooked through but still very firm, about 2 minutes. Turn heat to low. Add peas. Shake pan to distribute, and cook 1 minute longer, just until peas are very plump (they may start to pop and/or jump out of the pan; if that happens, you're done -- turn off the heat).

Remove pan from heat; add lemon zest, basil, and a few grinds of pepper. Shake pan again to distribute evenly. Transfer to serving bowls or platter and sprinkle with another pinch or two of salt, to taste. Squeeze abut 1-2 tablespoons of lemon juice over the vegetables -- just enough to offset the salt, you don't want the lemon to overpower the vegetables -- and serve immediately.

Sweet and Sour Pearl Onions

The last in a series of posts on great side dishes for Tday. Happy Holidays to everyone!

Here's one last easy side dish to top off your Thanksgiving feast. Not limited to Tday, these onions are great year round; I serve them alongside oxtail or shortribs, and they make a great complement to savory chicken dishes.

These onions get their sweetness from one of my favorite ingredients, silan, or date honey. Silan is darker, more viscous, and more intensely flavored than regular honey. It gives the onions a nutty quality, sweetening more gently but imparting plenty of great flavor. If you don't have silan, feel free to use regular honey; the onions will still be tasty.

Sweet and Sour Pearl Onions

1 pound pearl onions 2 teaspoons olive oil 2 tablespoons silan (date honey) or regular honey 3 tablespoons rice wine vinegar

This recipe happens in three steps. First, the onions are blanched and shocked so their thin skins can be easily peeled. Second, the onions are boiled until al-dente. Third, the onions are sauteed in oil and coated in the sweet-sour marinade.

Fill a medium pot halfway full of water and bring to a boil over high heat. Meanwhile, set a bowl of ice water on the counter. Drop onions in boiling water for about 60 seconds, then transfer immediately to ice bath to stop cooking. When onions are cool enough to handle, peel skins; they should come right off.

Empty pot and refill with clean water. Return to a boil, and add peeled onions. Cook for about 3 minutes; you want the onions to be tender outside but still somewhat firm within, as they'll continue to cook in step 3. After 3 minutes, drain onions and empty pot.

Add olive oil to the empty pot and heat on medium. Add onions carefully -- they'll spatter a bit -- and saute about 3 minutes, shaking occasionally, until onions have turned golden brown in spots. Meanwhile, stir silan and vinegar together until they are well-combined and there are no clumps of honey. Once onions have browned, add silan-vinegar mixture to the pan; it will bubble vigorously. Shake pan occasionally to coat onions with marinade. As marinade reduces, it will coat onions more thickly. The whole thing will take about three minutes. Transfer onions to a bowl, and drizzle marinade from pot over onions. At this point, either serve immediately, or refrigerate, and warm before serving.

Mushroom Conserva

This is part of a series on great side dishes for Thanksgiving and year-round. The first of the series can be found here.

To my mind, there are two foods whose flavor profiles are so diverse, they can taste like just about anything. One is cheese, which can taste sweet or salty, buttery or nutty or mild, grassy or spicy or altogether funky, like hot peppers or red wine, pure raw milk or bay leaves. The other? Mushrooms.

The buttons taste bland, but when you get into chanterelles that taste and smell of butter and honey, oyster mushrooms with briny undertones, and morels that sing of smoke and springtime, you're talking serious flavor diversity. My favorites are honeycap mushrooms, which smell and taste like honey with chocolate undertones. I could literally sit for days with my nose deep in a basket of honeycaps.

The sweet taste of honeycaps comes at a price: $15 a box, to be exact. With few exceptions, I steer clear, making a b-line for the criminis, shiitakes, and maybe some chanterelles. Criminis are pretty plain, shiitakes slightly less so; when I serve these to company, I'm looking to maximize their flavor and increase their shelf life in case there are leftovers. For this, I turn to mushroom conserva. It comes from one of my new favorite cookbooks, Thomas Keller's Ad Hoc at Home.

A recipe the likes of which only Thomas Keller could have invented, mushroom conserva is to mushrooms what jam is to fresh raspberries. Keller has you essentially poach the mushrooms in oil perfumed with herbs and spices, splash the mixture with vinegar, and then jar them. Submerged in the oil, the mushrooms keep for upto a month -- much longer than they would otherwise. While the recipe calls for wild mushrooms galore, I've found that peppering a mostly crimini/shiitake mix with smaller portions of wild mushrooms works quite nicely, and is easier on the wallet. As if these weren't enough to motivate, this recipe -- just like the green beans I wrote about earlier this week -- is actually meant to be made in advance. Just trying to make your life easier, folks. Thank me later.

Mushroom Conserva from Thomas Keller's Ad Hoc at Home

note: if you don't have piment d'espelette, feel free to use a different paprika. I used smoked paprika one time I made this, and thought it was lovely.

2 pounds assorted wild mushrooms such as small shiitakes, morels, chanterelles, small porcini, hen-of-the-woods, trumpet and oyster; if you can't get these or enough of them, feel free to substitute some criminis, 2 cups extra virgin olive oil 2 bay leaves 4 sprigs thyme 1 sprig rosemary (6 inches) 1 teaspoon piment d'espelette (if you don't have this, feel free to use a different paprika) 3 tablespoons sherry wine vinegar kosher salt fresh cracked black pepper

Just before cooking, rinse the mushrooms as necessary to remove any dirt. Remove any stems that are tough, such as the stems of shiitake mushrooms and discard or set aside for another use, such as a vegetable stock. Trim the end of other stems as well as any bruised areas.

Cut the mushrooms into pieces. The size and shape will vary with the variety of the mushroom. Small mushrooms can be left whole, larger mushrooms can be cut into chunks or into slices. Some mushrooms with meaty stems such as porcini or trumpet mushrooms, can be cut lengthwise in half.

Use the tip of a paring knife to score the inside of the stem in a crosshatch pattern. This will enable the marinade to penetrate the stem. The pieces of mushroom will shrink as they cook, but the finished pieces should not be larger than one bite. You should have about 1.5 pounds (10 cups) of trimmed mushrooms.

Place the olive oil, bay leaves, thyme sprigs, rosemary and Piment d'Espelette in a large, wide saucepan over medium to medium high heat.

Place a thermometer in the pot and heat until the oil reaches 170 degrees F, stirring the mushrooms in the oil from time to time. It may be necessary to tilt the pot and pool the oil to get a correct reading on the thermometer. Adjust the heat as necessary, to maintain this temperature for 5 minutes.

Add the mushrooms to the pot, and gently turn the mushrooms in the oil.

When the oil reaches 170 degrees F again, maintain the temperature for 5 minutes, gently turning the mushrooms from time to time. The mushrooms will not initially be submerged in the oil, but will wilt as they steep.

After 5 minutes, turn off the heat and stir in the vinegar and salt and pepper to taste. Let the mushrooms steep in the oil for 45 minutes. Place the mushrooms, oil and herbs in a covered storage container. Kept covered in oil the mushrooms will keep for up to 1 month in the refrigerator.

Reheat conserva before serving.

Green Beans with Horseradish-Mustard Vinaigrette

This is the first of a series of posts about great sides for Thanksgiving and year-round -- stay tuned for more as we approach the big day!

For my money, this is the quintessential side. Flavor-wise, it's totally in keeping with Thanksgiving tastes. The horseradish helps cut all that sweet, fatty Tday food, and the mustard reinforces for a one-two punch of spice. And at a meal where salad is the wallflower, green beans are more formidable company for that big turkey and the boat full of gravy occupying everyone's attention.

If that's not enough to lure you, other benefits include its ease and speed of preparation (it takes 10 minutes flat) and its willingness to hang out for a few days before serving. Really, what more can you ask for?

I make these green beans year round, but they're especially great on Tday. Go forth and eat.

Green Beans with Horseradish-Mustard Vinaigrette serves 4 as a side

1 pound green beans 1 tablespoon spicy whole-grain mustard 1 tablespoon prepared horseradish (I make mine by blending horseradish root with vinegar) 1 tablespoon red wine vinegar 1 tablespoon lemon juice 1/3 cup olive oil salt and pepper 1/2 cup sliced almonds

Preheat oven to 350º. Spread almonds in a single layer and toast until golden, about 10 minutes. Watch them carefully so they don't burn.

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Fill a large bowl with ice cubes and water. Working in batches, cook beans in boiling water just until cooked but still crisp, about 2 minutes per batch. Transfer cooked beans to bowl of ice water to "shock" them and stop them from cooking further. Continue cooking and shocking process with remaining batches of beans. Transfer beans to separate bowl and chill. You'll be serving the beans at room temperature, so chill only enough that they're no longer hot.

Meanwhile, prepare vinaigrette. Mix horseradish, mustard, red wine vinegar, and lemon juice. Add oil in steady stream while whisking, until all oil has been added and vinaigrette is emulsified.

Transfer green beans to a serving platter. Drizzle vinaigrette over beans, top with toasted almonds, and serve at room temperature.