Tag Archives: Thanksgiving sides

Stove-top Roasted Brussels Sprouts

We’ve been deep into apple and squash season for some time now, with nary a word from Bring It. If you are in search of some seasonal faves, there are plenty in the archives. I’ve been making my fair share of squash on toast, sugar and spice squash soup, all kinds of riffs on roasted squash and kale salad (often sans kale), and pretty much any way to mainline squash. Same with all things apple, though it is hard to stray far from apple crisp (using this topping) and its more intimidating sister, apple pie. Also psssst: make these apple cheddar scones on the weekend and you’re a hero, guaranteed.

With Thanksgiving breathing down our necks, I want to focus on Brussels sprouts, which for many of us place second only to lima beans as the most maligned veggie of our youths. They were recently featured in depth on cookthevineyard. The exposé discussed the merits of respective preparations—halved, quartered and sliced—and how to cook each, along with the one hard and fast rule of Brussels sprouts cookery, which is basically this: Never, ever boil them. This is gospel people.

Cookthevineyard has some excellent suggestions, but my new favorite way to cook them —more method than recipe— comes from Joy the Baker. My visits to her site are more voyeuristic than anything, because I’m just not a baker at heart. Other than Easiest French Bread Ever, which I bake like it is my job, I leave the baking glory to others. But her stovetop “roasting” take on Brussels sprouts is sheer brilliance. I can see it working on a cast iron pan on the grill too, just like these peppers and onions agradolce (fancy term for vinegar and syrup) that became this summer’s grilling addiction.

So, this is a quickie, but it is a method that I hope will come in handy this fall, because folks, it’s time to brush off your A Game in the kitchen.

Stove-top “Roasted” Brussels Sprouts

Taken completely, cleverness included, from Joythebaker

Ingredients:

  • 1 pound Brussels sprouts, ends trimmed and sliced in half
  • 1/4 cup olive oil
  • sea salt and fresh cracked black pepper
  • juice of half a lemon or splash of red wine vinegar
  • chopped fresh parsley
  • grated parmesan cheese

Method:

Trim the ends of the sprouts and cut them in half.  The cut side will create more space for that glorious browning and it’s always nice to see how Mother Nature made a whole ass cabbage to tiny and cute. Admire all the inner layers because vegetables are actually so cool.  All the little outside leaves that fluff off once the end is trimmed? Save those we’ll cook those, too.

Grab a skillet – a pretty big one that has a lid that fits cozy.  Nonstick isn’t important and I haven’t tried this recipe in cast iron though I suspect it works just fine.  Pour oil into the cold pan.  It will feel like a lot of oil and you might be tempted to use less oil but don’t.  Trust me on this one, ok?  Add the halved Brussels sprouts to the pan with oil, cut side down in a single layer.  Sprinkle the little leafy bits on top.  Put the lid on the pan.

Place the cold pan with oil, Brussels, and the lid over medium-high heat for 5-7 minutes.  Don’t lift the lid. Don’t shake the pan – just let it all go. This is where the magic happens.  The Brussels sprouts will create steam as they cook and that lid is helping them steam to tender all while the oil is heating and browning those little babies to golden.  After 5-7 minutes, remove the lid, shake the pan around and allow the Brussels to pan fry uncovered for another 5 minutes.  Test with a fork for doneness.

Remove the pan from the heat and toss in salt, pepper, lemon juice and parsley. Be generous. Be very cheffy about it. Optional extras: a spoonful of dijon mustard and brown sugar are glorious additions to the acid.

Notes: As I said, this is 100% from Joy, but I can vouch for the bennies of Dijon and maple syrup added at the end. I mix them up with the lemon juice and pour in the whole shebang. And, I’ve used cotija or grated cheddar cheese instead of parm with no complaints. As ever, love the one you’re with!

And, if you are a brussels sprouts fan dive into cookthevineyard’s rabbit hole on the topic. I am so trying the sprout potato hash…as soon as I work through some more squash and apples.

 

California Dreamin’ Persimmon and Pomegranate Salad

Sister B served me this salad on my last trip to CA, and I loved everything about it. It’s beautiful, interesting in taste and texture, healthy, and—most of all—it looked totally, easily replicable. We grew up with a persimmon tree in our backyard, but they were the acorn-shaped ones that turn your mouth to cotton when they are even slightly firm, and only become edible when they are the texture of ectoplasm. Suffice to say, I was not a fan.

In the intervening years, “Fuyu” persimmons—smaller, squat looking numbers that are delicious when eaten in their firm state—became readily available.

When my sister dug up this recipe, she did it as if playing a casual game of Google darts because in California (where every ingredient in this salad is something you might encounter underfoot on a sidewalk), needing a recipe for this salad is like needing a recipe for avocado toast. In the Yankee wilds, however, it qualifies as a fancy feast.

I approached this salad in the casual way one approaches non-toxic events, assuming that whatever persimmon I tracked down in NH would be the edible kind. Surely that old variety, if it appeared at all, would be sold with something akin to a skull and crossbones sign.

WRONG! One bite of my first-acquired persimmon brought back so many memories, none of them good. And so I returned to our groovy Coop and found the precious little Fuyus, which should have been sold in a velvet case. While I was paying $8 for my two small persimmons the cashier chuckled, having grown up in N. Carolina’s persimmon belt, where $8 would have gotten me the persimmons and, say, dinner.

Anyway, I got the goods, and armed with the pomegranate liberating technique in Pomegranates Unplugged, I was good to go. You’re basically tossing arugula with a bright, simple dressing, then laying on the goods—thinly sliced persimmons, avocado slices and pomegranate seeds. I hope you can find your Fuyu persimmons and try this yourself. I’ll try my best to get you some more Thanksgiving inspiration before T-Day. In the meantime, enjoy the season!

Callifornia Dreamin’ Persimmon and Pomegranate Salad

From Crumb, a food blog

Feel free to riff on this, with your own favorite dressing, baby spinach and blood oranges or grapefruit if you can’t find persimmons. Love the one you’re with, baby.

Ingredients

Dressing

  • 3 tbsp olive oil
  • 1 tbsp white wine vinegar
  • 1 tbsp white balsamic vinegar
  • 1 tsp Dijon mustard
  • Salt and pepper to taste

Salad

  • 8 cups baby arugula
  • 1 firm-ripe Fuyu persimmon, quartered and thinly sliced
  • 1 large avocado, cut into wedges
  • 1/2 cup fresh pomegranate aril
  • Handful of toasted pistachios or nuts of choice (optional)

Instructions

Prepare the Dressing:

  1. In a small bowl, whisk together olive oil, vinegars and mustard until combined. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Assemble the Salad:

  1. In a large mixing bowl, toss arugula with dressing until well coated. Distribute between four individual salad bowls, or transfer to a single large salad bowl.
  2. Arrange persimmon and avocado slices on the arugula, then scatter with pomegranate and pistachios (if using). Serve immediately.

Bringing It:

In addition to being healthy, beautiful and delicious, this is very easy to bring to a group feast. Slice up the persimmons, prep your pomegranates and dressing and jar them each up separately. Bring the arugula and the whole avocado and assemble on site. Then take a victory lap in your fancy pants.

 

Roasted Squash, Kale and Cranberry Salad

To borrow a sentiment from Teen Angst, “what the world needs now is another kale salad like I need a hole in my head” And yet, here you have it. This came out of the Cooking Light archives—an actual print version that was hanging around my cluttered pantry of angst. It was the answer to my prayers when my garden of tomatoes died back enough to reveal a whole lot of kabocha (buttercup) and delicata squash. I’ve made this with both types of squash and it was fantastic. I suspect it’d be grand with butternut as well.

To make this meal-worthy salad you’re basically massaging up a bed of kale with a touch of olive oil. Now don’t be coy—we’re no strangers to massaging kale. Roasted squash goes on top of that, followed by thinly sliced red onion for sass and plumped up dried cranberries for a little sweet and same fall color.

It took all my will NOT add nuts to this bed of goodness, but I resisted and did not miss them a bit. Neither did my nut-weary family.

  • Bonus: This can be made ahead and hang out until dinner is served.
  • Double Bonus: It travels like a champ and is easily assembled on site.
  • Triple bonus: The leftovers are excellent, because we all know dressed kale can survive the apocalypse.

I hate to sounds bossy, but please make this now, so if you like it as much as I do you can sign up to bring it to Thanksgiving. I know…we’re not even at Halloween. But what can I say? Squash turns my crank. And now, on to pomegranates. Oh…yeah…baby! Happy Fall

Roasted Squash, Kale and Cranberry Salad

From Cooking Light

Ingredients

  • 1/2 large unpeeled green or orange kabocha squash (about 5 lb.), cut into 12 (1/2-in.-thick) wedges (or delicata squash, seeded and cut in 1/2″ rounds)
  • 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, divided
  • 2 teaspoons coarsely ground coriander seeds
  • 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt, divided
  • 6 tablespoons dried cranberries (or dried cherries to be tart and fancy)
  • 6 tablespoons red wine vinegar
  • 1 1/2 tablespoons brown sugar
  • 2 teaspoons mustard seeds
  • 1/2 small red onion, thinly vertically sliced
  • 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
  • 1 (7 1/2-oz.) bunch lacinato kale, stemmed and cut into 3/4-in.-wide strips (curly kale works fine too)

Method:

Preheat oven to 375°F

Combine squash, 1 tablespoon olive oil, coriander seeds, pepper, and 1/4 teaspoon salt in a large bowl, tossing gently with hands to coat. Spread in a single layer on a baking sheet. Cover with foil. Bake at 375°F for 10 minutes. Remove foil; bake 15 more minutes or until pumpkin is tender and browned, turning once.

While pumpkin roasts, combine cranberries, vinegar, brown sugar, mustard seeds, and 1/8 teaspoon salt in a small skillet over medium-low heat. Bring to a simmer; remove from heat. Steep 15 minutes or until almost all of the liquid is absorbed.

Place onion in a bowl of ice-cold water; let stand 10 minutes. Drain

Toss lemon juice, kale, remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil, and remaining 1/8 teaspoon salt in a large bowl, massaging kale with hands to soften. Transfer kale to a large serving platter; top with pumpkin and onion. Sprinkle with cranberries.

Bringing it:  Roast the squash, prep onions and cranberries and massage the kale in the privacy of your own home. Bring them all separately and assemble on a platter when you get to your destination. It can hang out until you’re ready to eat.