Food

Gigantic, pretty and quite controversial

| Green Card Gardener

No wonder the storm knocked over one of my Jerusalem artichoke plants – they are more than 9 feet (3 meters) high. The plant was beyond rescue so I pulled it but I staked and tied the others because it is too early to harvest Jerusalem artichokes. The tubers should be dug after frost, which makes them sweeter, but before the ground freezes.

Because the plants are so tall I did not realize they are covered with yellow flowers at the top that look like small sunflowers; in fact, Jerusalem artichokes are a member of the sunflower family. So I got some benefit out of the lost plant after all: a big beautiful bouquet for the dining table.

Jerusalem artichokes are one of the most controversial vegetables. Some people love them and are ready to pay a hefty price. I have seen organic Jerusalem artichokes for more than $5 per pound. Others plainly and simply hate them, mainly because they can cause intestinal gas. The most outspoken condemnation is from an early 17th-century popular botany book, Gerard’s Herbal, where Jerusalem artichokes are called “more fit for swine than men.” If harvested after frost, the inulin (the dietary fiber that is the culprit for causing gas), is significantly reduced. Also, cooking Jerusalem artichokes at high heat, like in my Jerusalem artichoke salad, and not eating them raw makes them easier to digest.

The gardening tips for growing Jerusalem artichokes are just as divided. Some sources warn you that they will take over your garden and you will deeply regret plating them. Others tell you to remove the flower buds so the tubers grow bigger. Go figure.

I am taking the middle route, trying to thoroughly dig out all the tubers so they won’t spread into unwanted areas. And, I leave the flowers on. They are pretty and I would not haul a ladder into the herb garden to reach them anyway. And, if the Jerusalem artichokes ever take over I shall maybe consider getting a pig. Pigs love Jerusalem artichokes and can locate the tubers in the soil. Just like truffles! With the exception that the pigs dig the tubers up and eat them, which takes care of the tubers spreading.

On a second thought I am not sure a pig would be such a good idea, it will likely dig up the rest of the herb garden, too…

No eggplant left behind

| Green Card Gardener

As the nights are getting chilly, the skin of the delicious Fairytale eggplants toughens. A few days ago the eggplants melted in your mouth. Now you can still eat them whole, and they are still good, but they are not at their peak any more.

I picked my six plants clean and used the larger ones for a dip adapted from Deborah Madison’s excellent Roasted Eggplant Dip with Dill, Yogurt, and Walnuts, which I like better than traditional Baba Ghannoush with tahini. As eggplants and eggplant skins are a good addition to vegetable broth (here is my recipe), that’s where all the other tiny eggplants are going.

Not a single eggplant left. I will for sure grow those again next year!

Fairytale Eggplant Dip with Dill

Adapted from Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone by Deborah Madison

There is more waste from all the skins of the small Fairytale eggplants, therefore I started with a full 2 pounds of eggplant instead of the 1 1/4 pounds in the original recipe. Also, I always throw in a handful of dill fronds (all tough thick sprigs removed) instead of chopping the dill, as everything gets finely pureed in the food processor anyway.

2 pounds Fairytale eggplants

Olive oil

1/3 cup walnuts

3 garlic gloves

1 handful of fresh dill fronds

3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, more for pouring onto the dip

1/2 cup Greek yogurt (I used 0%)

Salt

Freshly milled black pepper1. Preheat the oven broiler and set the rack about 5 inches from the heat.

2. Cut the blossom ends off the eggplants. Put the eggplants in a large bowl and toss them with a little olive oil to coat evenly. Distribute them evenly in one layer on a roasting pan and place them under the broiler. Stand by closely, they turn brown very quickly. Once the tops have slightly charred, turn them and broil from the other side. Test one eggplant to check if the skin can be easily removed; if not, let the skins char some more, turning the eggplants as needed. Remove from the oven and cool slightly.

3. As soon as the eggplants are cool enough to handle, remove the skins. The easiest way to do this is by making an incision along the length of each eggplant and flap it open. Collect the pulp in a bowl and set aside to cool.

4. Lightly toast the walnuts in an non-greased pan. Let cool, then place it in the food processor, together with the eggplant pulp and all the other ingredients. Puree to a fine consistency and salt and pepper to taste. Alternatively, you can also puree the dip with a stick blender if the bowl is large enough to hold all the ingredients. Scoop the dip into a container with a tight-fitting lid and pour a little extra-virgin olive oil on top to prevent it from drying out. Refrigerate. Serve at room temperature, stirring well to smoothen before serving. The dip keeps in the refrigerator for 4 to 5 days.

Color, after all

| Green Card Gardener

I was too quick concluding that the jalapeños from the garden I hung up for drying are not changing color – they are. On sunny days I put them out every morning, move them with the sun in the afternoon, and bring them in at night. That might sound quite involved but what wouldn’t I do for a good, homemade harissa?

The harissa that comes in small cans like tomato paste or tubes is awful – it is nothing but hot. The real stuff for me is harissa berbère. It is based on sun-dried chilis and blended with garlic and spices. When I lived in Tunis, one of the highlights of my week was shopping at the Marché central on Saturdays. I would always buy a glob of harissa berbère, which was sold in bulk from a large mound sitting out in the open. The spice merchant would scoop off a glob onto a piece of wax paper. I usually could not wait to spread it thickly on fresh flatbread with nigella seeds, another one of my favorites. When I told my aunt that I bought harissa in bulk at the market, she was appalled. I never got sick.

It will be a while before the chili peppers are ready but I already have my harissa recipe lined up. Unfortunately I don’t have my Tunisian grandmother’s recipe. This is as close to hers, and other genuine harissa berbère, as I could get it.

Harissa

Basically you can use any red chili peppers you like. The more seeds you remove, the milder the harissa will be. I usually remove most of the seeds. Wear disposable gloves when handling the chilis. Harissa keeps for several weeks in the fridge.

12 dried red chili peppers

1 tablespoon plus ¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil, more for pouring on top

3 cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped

½ teaspoon coarsely ground caraway seeds

½ teaspoon coarsely ground cumin

½ teaspoon coarsely ground coriander

Kosher salt to taste

1. Remove the stems from the peppers. Cut them in half and remove all or some of the seeds. Put the peppers in a small heatproof bowl. Pour boiling water over them, just enough to cover. Press the peppers into the water and soak for a few minutes.

2. In the meantime heat 1 tablespoon olive oil in a small skillet. Add the garlic and spices and cook over medium heat until fragrant. Stir often and make sure the garlic does not brown. Remove from the heat and let cool.

3. Drain the chilis and place them in the food processor with all the other ingredients. Process in a food processor or blender to a coarse or fine consistency according to taste. Season with salt and fill in a sterilized glass jar. Smoothen the top and pour additional olive oil over it to prevent harissa from drying out, and refrigerate.

Another sweet reason to garden

| Green Card Gardener

In August friends from Germany were visiting. They duly admired the huge red and orange bell peppers in my garden but what they marveled about most were the sweet juicy cantaloupes. In Germany, summers are often so chilly and sun-less that not even the tomatoes turn fully red, let alone crops like melons can be successfully grown.

After many years in the United Stated I had almost forgotten how astounded I was myself seeing a fig tree in the middle of New York City, and realizing that melons that taste and smell like melons are grown locally. Through my friends I appreciated anew our consistently warm to hot summers. Sure, as gardeners we battle against pests, droughts, floods and winter damage, and the recent change of the USDA hardiness zones due to global warming is worrisome. Yet this is a great climate for gardening, and I wish more people would do it.

Yesterday I harvested my one and only watermelon. It owes its existence entirely to a feeling of frustration. In early June, I picked up a couple of plants on my third trip to the nursery to replace the cantaloupe seedlings that had been devoured by the striped cucumber beetle.

Small as it is, the watermelon still makes me gleeful.  It is too special for eating the whole thing so I set aside some to make watermelon vodka for the first time. It will be the perfect drink for toasting the garden long after I will have put it to rest for winter.