Herbal Virtues
In the Cruelest Months
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TILL: Time Is an Herb
At this time last year, we were learning how to Zoom our Seders. I’m not going to lie – that wasn’t so bad. I can’t eat much of anything on the Passover table. Aside from the pure protein of brisket, which is only edible when it’s barbecued by pitmasters, in my opinion, almost every traditional food item in the Ashkenazi tradition contains eggs. This year, with all of us on my husband’s side of the family, vaccinated thanks to age or illness – who knew autoimmune disease would ever be a benefit? – we had the opportunity to have them in person in Boca Raton. We still held them outside, and we were socially distanced (because Miami, spring break, and variants), but at least we got to stare at that roasted shank bone in real-time. Lately, whenever we see someone in person now, we make it a habit to bring whatever’s in season from the garden. But March and April are the cruelest months, not just up north but down here in the tropical south, too. Our lettuce is long gone, and the strawberries are winding down. The corn and cauliflower are late, and may not come in before it gets too hot. Likewise, our eggplant and peppers have been developing beautifully, but are also not quite ready. The tomatoes have been pretty consistent, and so has the citrus, although we’ve ravaged both pretty thoroughly recently. And the peas, beans, cucumbers, and squashes have all succumbed to mold, or bugs, or both. But when everything else in your garden is either growing or dying, there are always the herbs, bright and sprightly and taking over the beds (I’m talking to you, chocolate mint). And I’m more than happy to show up with a fragrant bouquet of thyme and dill and basil. This year, I wound up trading with my sister-in-law for her parsley and catnip, among other cuttings. But it was her fully developed milkweed, which is in short supply in Miami, that really thrilled me. Jill’s milkweed is so mature that the flowers were going to seed, something that never happens here, where the caterpillars are plentiful and voracious. Even better? Jill had one giant milkweed, a tall stalky variety that develops into huge purple blooms, that she needed to uproot. Giant milkweed is so sought after that the nurseries can’t keep it in stock. The monarchs like it so much that they’ve eaten ours down to the stems, and the stems themselves down to nubs. We came home with a jar of seeds and a new plant of giant milkweed to root. Giving monarchs and swallowtails a place to lay eggs, for caterpillars to eat and attach their pupae, is rewarding year-round. But it’s especially meaningful during Passover and Easter when eggs are the symbol of life – symbols to which I happen to be violently allergic – but that have so much more metaphorical intent this year. As my garden winds down for everyone but butterflies, and Betsy’s revs up, we celebrate the herbs that always help us transition between seasons. On the Seder plate, the bitter ones remind us of our ancestral, and perhaps very recent, past. But in our gardens, in our recipes, and on our plates, they help us recall that renewal always comes again. And we appreciate the flavor of it all the more for having missed it while it’s gone.
JK
DISH: Recipes
Great Greens
Here is a takeaway from the great vegetable evangelist Naomi Karetnick: Just add celery. Our mom probably never actually said that, but celery made an appearance in more meals than we care to remember – sautés, soups and salads included. The inclination must have skipped a generation. My youngest loves celery. And that, too, includes in stir fries and sides. So weird. For the longest time, I’ve considered it a necessary evil. (His older sister throws back to Grandma as well with a powerful affinity to celery in soup). But despite my son’s love for celery, he generally avoids most tossed salads, unless it includes a dressing inspired by anything from the Asian pantry and ¬ you guessed it – celery. In our second year of pandemic related cohabitation, we have found common ground in herb salads that feature both conditions. If nothing else, adding celery is a valuable lesson. It adds crunch and texture where there is little or none, and it’s a vegetable that tends to linger until it’s limp. And its flavor is useful even after it’s gone a little rubbery (see: soup). Better to use what you’ve got than donate to the trash. Why not? Leftover bits can be delicious. In this salad, below, feel free to use mix ‘n match veg depending on what your bin has at any given time. It’s great on its own, combined with shredded chicken or topping white fish fillets. Salad: 1½ cup cilantro, destemmed and roughly chopped ½ cup Italian parsley, destemmed and roughly chopped 2 scallions, sliced in rounds including greens (one of us likes more and it’s not me) ½ ounce mint, destemmed and finely chopped 1 large celery stalk, chopped 1 Persian or pickling cucumber, halved lengthwise and thinly sliced Up to ½ jalapeño or Serrano pepper, finely chopped 1 teaspoon toasted sesame seeds Add all ingredients in a bowl and toss. Dressing: 1 tablespoon unseasoned rice vinegar (or half vinegar and half lime juice) 1 teaspoon toasted sesame oil ¼ teaspoon kosher salt ¼ teaspoon sugar Add all ingredients in a bowl and whisk to combine. Adjust seasoning to taste.
BK
Passover Lunch: Easy Eggs
Let’s be real. Passover is great if you like matzo (no), are used to being gluten-free (not, but family members are), or eat keto (sometimes, but cave person on the daily is tough). Still, lunch is possible even when another trip to the grocery is overdue and holiday dietary restrictions are set. In this case, you just need eggs (if you’re not Jen). And herbs. Here’s what I had. A single imperfect Russet potato, five eggs, a drop of Parmesan and too many chives in the garden. Voila! Chives, butter and potatoes always work. For a super-simple frittata, cut the potato into even, bite-size pieces and steam or boil. Rinse, then sauté the potato in some olive oil. Whisk the eggs with herbs, salt, pepper and cheese. Swirl butter in the pan and add eggs. With the bottom set, pop into a 350 oven for 10-ish minutes. (BTW, this works with or without potatoes.) Or skip the frittata. Try smashing the steamed potatoes with chives, butter and salt. Fried or over easy egg on top. Done. Another no-recipe lunch option. Hot sauce optional, as always with eggs.
BK
Mâitre d'Hôtel Butter
If you are going full carnivore or pescatarian during this season of dietary restrictions, here’s a great way of adding flavor to your proteins and using up extra herbs. Blend a single herb or a variety into softened butter. Add salt, pepper, and any other flavorings you like – some mustard, a little Worcestershire sauce, a dab of horseradish. Then portion them out into silicon ice cube trays, cover with parchment or wax paper, and freeze. Simply pop them out for use. These molded cubes add a decorative and tasty touch to the top of filets and fillets alike, and bonus: They look fancy but they’re so easy to make. *Note: You can find more ideas and recipes like this in my book, Ice Cube Tray Recipes: 75 Easy and Creative Kitchen Hacks for Freezing, Cooking, and Baking with Ice Cube Trays.
JK
DISH: Recap and Coming Soon
Betsy has again been in the digital world teaching food, drink, and flower skills. You can hire her for classes by contacting her at betsy@theportablegarden.com.
Jen’s articles about the trouble with quinoa; how to have an allergen-free Passover; the misleading health halos around vegetable chips and crackers; and those mysterious black bugs in your pantry all went out in Allrecipes.com. You can hire her for writing by contacting her at kavetchnik@gmail.com. Visit her website at jkaretnick.com. Coming Soon: In April, Jen’s essay about how she discovered her food allergies during the pandemic will appear in The Counter; a reported piece on freezing sperm for Testicular Cancer Awareness Month will post on the health and reproductive resource Giddy; and a piece on how to choose and eat a ripe mango is forthcoming in Allrecipes.com. Her poems will appear in Cider Press Review, Pine Hills Review, Twyckenham Notes, and Under a Warm Green Linden. On 4/10/21, Jen will read poetry in honor of Earth Month at Getting to Net Zero – Community Celebration, 9-11 PM EDT, with Dr. Hari Lamba, Crystal S. Gibbins, and Lucille Lang Day. The event costs $20 and includes books and seed packets. Sign up here: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/getting-to-net-zero-community-celebration-tickets-145801114057?keep_tld=1
DISH: Poetry
Because it’s the season to celebrate eggs, here’s a poem about them. On Teaching My Son to Hard Boil Eggs Permit two eggs to recline in cold water, I say. Cover their pale ovals, as china-fine and fragile as a mind. Fire the gas on high and boil. He wants to know how long, precisely, it will take the water to reach its song of plops and crackles, wreak havoc on the viscous liquid innards, insists on setting the timer—he’s that kind of kid, to whom I tell my shopping list to keep from forgetting. Just watch. And he does, because he must. *Permit two eggs to recline comes from Marcel Duchamp’s recipe for “Steak Tartare” in The Artists’ & Writers’ Cookbook. The original line is “Permit two egg yolks to recline.” You can find this and other food poems in Brie Season (Kelsay Books, 2014).
JK
