Crispy Kale Chips

I’ve gotten a handful of kale chip questions lately. Kale chips are a snack I’ve made for years but never thought of as blog material. My mistake. They’re easy as pie to make and completely satisfy that crunchy, salty kind of craving. And if you’re someone who isn’t keen on the taste of leafy greens, this will change everything.

Kale is an unsung hero of sorts. It is one of the most nutritious foods you can possibly eat but doesn’t get nearly the attention it deserves. I’ve met a surprising number of people who only recognize it as that leafy salad bar decoration but wouldn’t have the slightest idea how to cook it. I have quite a few tasty ideas, but let’s start with the chips.

 
These are so simple you don’t even need a recipe. Wash a bunch of kale and strip the leaves from the fibrous stems (the stems have no place in the chip world; they won’t get crisp in the oven). Tear the kale leaves into large pieces and dry them really, really well. Place them on a parchment-lined baking sheet and drizzle with a bit of oil. Sprinkle with flaky kosher salt, toss well and spread out to form a single layer. It’s important not to overlap here – you might need to do this in batches. Bake in a 350°F oven for about 15 minutes or until the chips are dry and crisp.

You’ll be amazed at how delicious these are. Mine never last more than 10 minutes but if you can summon the willpower, save a few to crush over some freshly buttered popcorn. 

I’m somewhat of a purist so I like the clean flavor of lightly salted chips, but these would be the perfect vehicle for a multitude of spice combinations. Salt and vinegar, truffle, or chili garlic chips anyone?

An Ode to Sorrel

Have you ever tasted something for the first time and thought, “Where have you been all my life!?” That was me with sorrel.

I wasn’t even familiar with this leafy green until last year when Beryl suggested we plant some in our garden. It tasted so bright and lemony, and I dreamt about turning it into creamy sorrel soup once harvest time rolled around. Well, that time came and went while we were on vacation and the plant bolted. So much for soup.

This year I was determined not to repeat history. I did my research and found that sorrel, which is hugely popular in French cuisine, is often served as a sauce for fish. So I picked our plant clean and melted a heaping bowl of leaves into a just-creamy-enough white wine shallot sauce. Paired with pan fried cod, this immediately shot to the top of the best-dishes-I’ve-ever-eaten list. 

  
While there is some difference of opinion regarding the origins of the word “sorrel” --some say it comes from a French word, others claim Germanic roots -- both origins mean “sour.” The plant contains oxalic acid (also found in rhubarb), which gives it that characteristic lemony, tart flavor. It can be served raw in salads or sandwiches, pureed into soups or pesto, or, in this case, made into a lovely sauce for fish.

My first experience with sorrel was nothing short of a revelation, and in an attempt to make up for lost time (and eat as much of it as possible this summer), I immediately ran out and bought more starts for the garden. Perhaps next year I'll plant an entire patch...

This could get out of hand. 

Fish with Sorrel Sauce 
I used cod but have heard that this sauce tastes magnificent with salmon. Adapted from The New York Times.

Serves 2

2-3 shallots, diced finely
1 tablespoon butter
Glass of dry white wine
1 - 1 1/2 cups vegetable or fish stock
1/2 cup cream
1 bunch sorrel

2 tablespoons high heat oil 
1 pound cod fillets (sole, perch, haddock or trout would also work)
Salt and pepper

In a large skillet over medium-low heat, sweat the shallots in butter until soft and translucent. Add a glass of white wine, increase the heat to high and reduce completely. Add the vegetable stock (if it's a subtle stock, use 1 1/2 cups; if it's strong, start with 1 cup) and reduce over high heat until 1/4 cup of liquid remains, about 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, strip the sorrel leaves from their stems. If the leaves are big, rip them into large pieces (there is no need for tiny pieces since the sorrel will wilt down tremendously). Wash and spin dry.

After the broth mixture has reduced, lower heat to low and stir in the cream. Add the sorrel and wilt down completely (it will look like a lot at first but won't take long to melt like spinach). Taste and adjust the seasoning if necessary.

In the meantime, heat the oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Lightly season both sides of the fish with salt and pepper and place in the skillet. Cook until fish flakes easily, about 3 minutes per side.

Divide the sorrel sauce between two plates and top each with a fillet of pan fried fish. Roasted or steamed parsley potatoes make a nice accompaniment.

Collard Green Puree

When I was living in Winterthur, Switzerland, my favorite street vendor was a man by the name of Hansueli. He was tall and trim with a long mane of thick curly hair. His impeccable language skills indicated that he was well traveled, as did his earthy garments. He operated a very popular crêpe stand: vegetarian, all organic, both sweet and savory. No matter the time of year, there was always a long line of eager customers. I loved the chana masala crêpe with mango pickle relish but my absolute favorite was the spinach and cheese for seven francs. It consisted of velvety smooth, pureed spinach with a sprinkling of fresh mozzarella encased in a papery-thin, warm crêpe. He folded it just so and I honored that by eating it with absolute precision.

From time to time I crave that smooth spinach. It was so much more convenient in Switzerland - Rahm Spinat was sold in a bag full of individually frozen squares, making it a snap to heat up a little or a lot. I’ve tried making it from scratch but never to the same effect… until last night.

I was pan frying halibut and thought it would look stunning atop a mound of pureed greens. Two fresh bunches of collard greens sat in my fridge so I thought, why not? A quick dip in boiling water, a sauté of onion and garlic in a hot skillet and a spin in the blender was almost all it took to create a puree that would make Hansueli proud.

* By the way, the leftovers made an incredibly tasty breakfast: a toasted crumpet spread with warm collard green puree topped with a poached egg. It doesn’t get much better than that!

Pureed Collard Greens
This makes a wonderful side dish, crêpe filling or base for a poached egg. It can also be made with spinach, kale or chard.

2 bunches collard greens, cleaned and stripped from stems
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 medium onion, chopped
3-4 cloves garlic, chopped
1 tablespoon flour
Milk or stock
Pinch of nutmeg
Salt to taste

Cover the bottom of a large pot with 2 inches water; heat until boiling. Add collard green leaves and simmer, stirring occasionally, until tender and bright green, about 5 minutes. Drain, coarsely chop and set aside.

In a medium saucepan, heat butter and olive oil over medium heat until melted. Add onion and garlic; sauté until translucent and soft. Sprinkle with flour and cook, stirring constantly, 2 more minutes. Remove from heat.

In a blender, pulse onion mixture and a third of the greens. Drizzle milk through the top as needed. Continue this process until all greens have been pureed and desired consistency has been reached.

Transfer back to saucepan and heat over medium-low. Add a pinch of nutmeg and salt to taste.

Stock Options

One thing a pantry shouldn't be without is stock. I always have a few cartons on hand for a quick potato leek soup, creamy risotto, or one of my favorite wintertime dishes, Italian beans and greens. All of these come together in a snap with the magic of store-bought broth. But lately I'm feeling haunted by the army of vegetable skins and nubs I throw away without a second thought. Oh sure, I've heard the merits of homemade stock and even encouraged others to have a crack at it. But I never managed to do it myself. For someone who tries to live sustainably and prefers making everything from scratch, I'm quite a hypocrite, aren't I?

This pretense has gone on long enough. About a month ago I was scrubbing and peeling a sizable amount of vegetables when the thought hit me: why not throw the scraps into a Ziploc bag and freeze them until I'm ready to give this homemade stock thing a whirl? Well folks, today is that day.

So I unearthed my gigantic stock pot and began sauteing a mirepoix (onions, celery and carrots). My frozen treasures came next. There were potato and carrot peelings, fennel fronds, mushroom stems, leek greens, turnip ends, Swiss chard stalks, onion skins and leftover celery root. Could it really be this easy? Whole peppercorns, bay leaves, garlic cloves, salt and a generous handful of parsley were added for good measure followed by cold water to cover. My work was done. Now it was up to the stove to patiently turn that motley crew of scraps into liquid bliss.

And did it ever. The apartment filled with the unmistakable aroma of a grandmother's kitchen - anything smelling this good was surely a favorable sign. After straining out the vegetables, I was left with a rich, savory, brown broth, which is waiting patiently in the freezer for its unveiling. I'm thinking miso soup might be first on the docket.

I was so charmed by this experience that I'm ready to tackle homemade chicken stock. And fish bone broth (I've been wanting to make an incredibly indulgent cream of scallop soup for quite some time).

Watch out, I'm just getting started.