Kohlrabi, Fennel, and Blueberry Salad

I'm at the point with my summer bounty where peaches go in my salads about as often as tomatoes do. Peaches have a different kind of lusciousness than tomatoes, the juice dribbling out of every bite rather than bursting out all at once as soon as you bite in. I like how the slices of ripe peach coat my lettuces, taking some of the burden off vinaigrette. Truth be told, I don't use much dressing in the summer.

As much as I'm a sucker for juicy bowls of salad, I swooned when I saw this unconventional, more subdued number in last month's Food and Wine. It's from Stephanie Izard, of Top Chef fame, who's got what I hear is a top-notch restaurant in Chicago called Girl and the Goat. I've been jonesing to eat there on my last few trips, but haven't yet had the chance. For now, there's this salad to tide me over.

Like I said, it's subdued. This isn't one of those big, juicy salads where everything's bursting in your mouth. That said, it's easy to make, and those of you with CSAs will surely appreciate another way to use up all that kohlrabi.

If you aren't facing the fortunate predicament of a kohlrabi abundance, fear not: you can still make this salad. I used 1 kohlrabi, but also added a few handfuls of asian salad greens, which lightened up the plate a bit. (Too much kohlrabi and fennel, and it starts to feel like winter.) I've listed my proportions below, but feel free to stray from them as much or as little as you like.

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What makes this salad special, though, is the goat cheese. Izard has you use a semifirm goat cheese - the kind you can slice, if it's well-chilled - and the cheese's smooth, grassy flavors play against the blueberries really nicely. If you don't have or feel like buying a fancy goat cheese, you can use regular goat cheese (fresh chevre) instead. Just drop little mounds over the finished salad.

Dare I say it, I actually think this salad might benefit from a few slices of warm, juicy peach. But for now, I'm leaving it as is, saving the peaches for my tomato salads.

Kohlrabi, Fennel, and Blueberry SaladAdapted from Stephanie Izard and Food and Wine

My biggest adaptation here was - surprise! - omitting the mayonnaise. If you like that sort of thing, feel free to add 1 tablespoon to the dressing when you add everything except the oil.

1/2 cup sliced almonds 2 tablespoons minced peeled fresh ginger 2 tablespoons minced shallot 1 tablespoon white balsamic vinegar (regular balsamic also works here) 1 1/2 teaspoons Dijon mustard 1 teaspoon soy sauce 1 teaspoon pure maple syrup 1/4 cup grapeseed oil Salt and freshly ground pepper

1 medium-to-large kohlrabi, peeled and very thinly sliced on a mandoline 1 fennel bulb, trimmed and thinly sliced on a mandoline 3 oz. mixed salad greens (I used Asian greens and some arugula) 2 ounces semifirm goat cheese, such as Evalon, Garrotxa or Manchester, shaved (1/2 cup) 1 cup blueberries or pitted, halved sweet cherries 2 tablespoons torn mint leaves

Preheat the oven to 350°. Spread the almonds on a pie plate and toast for about 7 minutes, until golden. Let cool.

In a mini food processor or blender, combine the ginger, shallot, vinegar, mustard, soy sauce and maple syrup. Puree until smooth. With the blender on, add the grapeseed oil in a thin stream and blend until creamy. Season the dressing with salt and pepper. (Alternatively, simply whisk dressing by hand.)

In a large bowl, toss the kohlrabi with the fennel, cheese, toasted almonds and dressing. Season with salt and pepper and toss to coat. Add the blueberries and mint and toss gently. Serve right away.

Best Blackberry Pie

I do my best to keep up with the kids, to stay in the know about what's new. I caught wind of the microbrew trend a couple years back, and I even went so far as to buy a beer-of-the-month club subscription for D. (She loved it so much, she told me to never think again about birthday presents: it's beer club from here on out.) But every so often, a new tidbit of knowledge seems to sweep the food world by storm while skipping me completely, Passover-style. This time, it was tapioca flour, which has quickly supplanted corn starch as the best thickener, ever. Unlike corn starch, tapioca is undetectable in every way. It thickens up pies without any of that milky, gloopy, corn starch texture. It also doesn't threaten to leave a raw-flour taste if it doesn't cook completely. In short, it's basically foolproof. Cook a pie with tapioca, and you'll think there's no thickener in it at all - until you cut the first slice and see that there is no puddle of murky fruit liquid swamping your pie. It's an amazing feat. Your guests will ooh and ahh.

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So how did I miss the trend? I don't know. But I blame being late to the tapioca party for not sharing this amazing pie recipe until now. This, my friends, is the best blackberry pie. Ever.

Blackberries are in season right now. If you haven't had any over the past couple of weeks, carpe diem, people. They're tangy, sweet, and complex. They pair well with cinnamon and lemon, both of which are in this pie recipe. Oh, and butter. They go well with butter. We've got that here, too.

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If you've been following along, I recently settled on my ideal pie crust recipe. I used that here, and it's as good as I remember. But I'm also a sucker for a good crumb topping, and I usually find double crust pies to be a little too crusty. For this pie, I riffed on Deb's crumb topping for sour cherry pie, which calls for ground almonds and ground oats. It's got great flavor, and it pairs perfectly with blackberries. If you don't have oats or oat flour, you can substitute whole wheat or even white flour here.

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We had plenty of blackberries for this pie, and Elise's pie filling fit the bill just perfectly with only minor tweaks. If you'd like to mix blackberries with another summer berry, this pie is a great place to do that. Also, if you're not a cinnamon person (strange, I know, but there are such people), omit. And if you're the type who loves orange zest, blackberries, cinnamon, and orange are a trio made in heaven. Do it.

blackberry pie 2

Once you've made a pie with tapioca flour, you may never go back. And you know what? It's pretty good on this side of things.

Best Blackberry PieAdapted from recipes from Simply Recipes and Smitten Kitchen (thanks, Elise and Deb!)

1 recipe best all-butter pie crust

For the pie filling: 5-6 cups blackberries, rinsed, picked clean, and patted dry (if using frozen berries, defrost fully and drain) 1/2 cup sugar 1 teaspoon lemon juice 1 teaspoon lemon zest 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon 1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract 1/4 teaspoon almond extract (optional, but it plays off the almond crumble really nicely) 3 Tbsp tapioca flour (I found it in the baking aisle of a natural foods store; Whole Foods and many supermarkets carry it, too)

For the topping: 2/3 cup whole oats, ground to a flour in a food processor (or, if you have it, 1/2 cup oat flour) 1/2 cup all-purpose flour 1/2 cup sugar 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt (you might want to first read up on kosher salts) 3/4 cup unsalted whole almonds, coarsely ground in a food processor (or, if you have it, 1/2 cup almond meal) 6 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and cooled

Prepare the crust: Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Roll out the chilled pie dough into a 12-inch disk. Gently lower into a 9- or 9.5-inch pie dish. (I do this by gently folding the dough into quarters, lifting it into the dish, and then gently unfolding it, as pictured above.) Trim the edges of the crust, leaving a 1/2-inch overhang. Crimp the edges, line with foil or wax paper, fill with pie weights or rice/beans, and bake for 30 minutes, until lightly browned. Remove pie crust from the oven, remove weights and lining, and allow to cool completely. Meanwhile...

Prepare the filling: Put blackberries, sugar, lemon juice and zest, cinnamon, extracts, and tapioca flour into a large bowl. Toss gently to coat berries evenly, and leave to macerate for 20 minutes. While this is macerating...

Prepare the crumb topping: Combine flours, sugar, cinnamon, salt, and almond meal in a medium bowl. Add melted butter and stir until mixture resembles wet sand.

Make the pie: Spoon blackberries into bottom crust. Sprinkle crumb topping evenly over the top of the pie. Set the pie on a baking sheet (to catch any juices that drip, avoiding that whole smoking oven thing), and bake for 30 minutes. Reduce heat to 350 degrees, and bake another 30-35 minutes, until juices are bubbling and crumb topping is browned. Let cool at least 30 minutes before eating.

Serve with vanilla ice cream, FTW.

Roasted Corn and Tomatillo Soup

A couple weeks ago, D and I went to my parents' house to celebrate my mom's birthday. I've talked about my mom a bunch on this site, and I know I've said before that she's responsible for any and all of my good cooking instincts (and none of the bad ones). She's an experimenter in the kitchen, always tinkering with recipes until they're just perfect. And she's got an uncanny ability to pick out ingredients by smell and taste. Just last night, over dinner at the wonderful Rasika (a belated birthday present from us kids), we tasted the baingan bartha (our favorite type of curry: slow-roasted eggplant with tomato and plenty of smoke), and when I asked if she thought she could replicate it at home, she said maybe not, because her garam masala has less nutmeg than Rasika's. Understand, for a moment, that garam masala is a blend of several spices, and that it's only one ingredient of the many in baingan bartha - and yet, she was able to pull nutmeg out of the stack. I don't know how she does it.

corn soup

But I digress. You see, never have my mother's tinkering and testing talents been put to better use than in the roasted corn and tomatillo soup she made for her birthday dinner. It was the first course of way too many, but I couldn't stop myself: I had three bowls of soup. It was deeply smokey but also sweet from summer corn, rounded out with pungent ginger and bright lime juice. She served it with a tomato swirl-in that is both entirely optional and entirely delicious. It was the best bowl of soup I've had in a long, long time.

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At my begging request, my mother worked up a recipe that pretty much mirrored what she had done. I simplified it a bit, and I also added variations for those of us not using our ovens right now. Admittedly, mine came out noticeably greyer than hers did - perhaps I didn't do as good a job as getting the burnt, blistered skin off those tomatillos - but it was no less tasty. I've provided both sets of instructions below.

Whichever way you choose, do make this soup. It captures the heat, the freshness, the rustic chunkiness, and the juicy sweetness of summer vegetables. It's really special.

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Roasted Corn and Tomatillo Soupadapted from my mother

As I mentioned above, my mother's A/C is great, so she uses her oven in summertime. Mine, not so much - I'm loath to turn the oven on. Roasting corn in the husks does give it this very particular woodsiness, so if you can roast the ears that way, by all means, do. I removed the husks, and roasted my corn over an open flame until they were speckled with golden brown kernels. I also used a stove-proof rack to roast the peppers, tomatillos and garlic over the stove, until their skins had browned all over.

5 ears of corn, in the husks (if roasting in the oven; otherwise, remove husks) 3-4 small young cucumbers, peeled 5 or 6 tomatillos, husks removed and skins rinsed 1-2 serrano peppers, to taste 1 yellow bell pepper 3 cloves garlic, unpeeled 1 large shallot 1 inch piece of fresh ginger, peeled and grated 6-8 basil leaves, torn or chopped 2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley 2 tablespoons seasoned rice wine vinegar (Trader Joe’s brand is our favorite) juice of half a lime 1 cup water 1 cup Greek yogurt Salt to taste Up to 1 tablespoon sugar, or to taste 2-3 tablespoons olive oil, if needed

Turn on the oven to 350. Clean off dirt adhering to the cornhusks. Place corn directly on oven rack in the middle of the oven and roast for 30 minutes. Let the corn cool before removing the husks.

(Alternatively, remove husks from corn and roast over an open flame on the stove, until kernels are golden brown in spots.)

While corn is roasting, grate the cucumbers into a sieve or strainer placed over a bowl. Lightly salt the cucumbers and set aside.

Line a small baking sheet with foil. Place the sweet pepper, serrano peppers, tomatillo, shallot, and garlic (unpeeled) onto the baking sheet. Broil the tomatillos and peppers until the skins blacken and/or blister. Watch the hot peppers because they might take less time than the larger sweet pepper. Broil garlic and shallot until skins are browned all over. When peppers are done, place them in a covered dish or a paper bag so they will steam as they cool. Once cooled, remove the skins from all the vegetables, and seed the peppers. Transfer the vegetables into the bowl of a food processor or blender.

After removing corn husks (if necessary), grate the ears of corn into the processor bowl. Squeeze the liquid out of the grated cucumbers and place them in the processor bowl as well. Add ginger, basil, and parsley to processor bowl. Pulse processor a few times to chop vegetables.

Add vinegar, lime juice, and water, and process until smooth. Add yogurt and pulse to combine. Taste and add salt, sugar, and more acid as necessary. If you want soup to be even smoother, add a couple tablespoons of olive oil and blend until smooth. Chill thoroughly.

For the tomato pesto (if using):

Half a slice of stale bread 2 medium tomatoes 1 clove garlic Pinch of sugar 1/2 teaspoon cumin Pinch of salt, or to taste Splash of rice wine vinegar (seasoned or plain is fine) Fresh ground black pepper 2 tablespoons olive oil

Soak the bread in water until it is very soft. Slightly squeeze out the water. Place it in bowl of a food processor.

Quarter the tomatoes or chop them in big chunks. Place in processor. Add sugar, salt, vinegar, cumin, and pepper. Process everything and while the processor is running, drop the garlic cloves through the feed tube. Drizzle in the olive oil while processor is on; blend until smooth. Place in refrigerator to chill.

To serve, spoon corn soup into small bowls; top with a couple spoonfuls of the tomato pesto in the center.

Peach Tomato Salad

I get as excited as the next girl about making zucchini gratin, corn soup, peach cobbler, etc. Never was there a better time for produce than smack in the middle of summer. The downside, of course, is that some days, I'm too pooped to patchke. I'd rather just stand over the sink, peach in hand, and let the juice dribble down my chin as I indulge in an effortless, delicious, afternoon snack.

This salad is for those days. It's for the other days, too; but when the heat has gotten the best of you, you'll be thankful for something this good, this seasonal, that requires so little actual movement on your part (the better to sit near the fan and let the sweat evaporate. You know what I'm talking about.)

When the peaches and tomatoes are as good as they are right now (this very moment! Get thee to the market, pronto!), they need nothing. They do benefit, however, from a drizzle of fine olive oil, a sprinkling of sea salt, and a couple drops of reduced balsamic vinegar or saba (my favorite ingredient ever: reduced grape must. You can get it at Italian grocery stores and on Amazon). That's all, folks.

cherry tomatoes

Peach Tomato Saladserves 2

2 juicy peaches, peeled (probably need to use a paring knife if they're as juicy as they should be) 1 pint good cherry or grape tomatoes a few tiny basil or mint leaves 3 tablespoons fine olive oil, preferably a fruity one flaky sea salt 2 teaspoons reduced balsamic vinegar or saba; pomegranate syrup would also be good

Peel peaches and slice each peach into 6 wedges. Halve tomatoes. Arrange on platter, and top with mint or basil leaves.

Drizzle oil over salad, and sprinkle lightly with flaky salt. Drizzle the vinegar or saba with a very light hand.

Either serve immediately (fine), or allow salad to sit for 10 minutes. Tomatoes and peaches will exude their liquid and seem, impossibly, juicier. Eat up.