Start Spring with the Best: Watercress

Jan — Wed, 28 Mar 2012 21:05:49 +0000

Cresses are underused greens, in my opinion. Perhaps this is because most cooks are aware of only watercress, which in its usual greengrocer’s form is rather mild and unmemorable. Wild watercress, on the other hand, is fiery stuff, and its cousins, the land cresses, can be even more so.

The restoration of the savannah east of the rail lines just below Dayton’s Bluff has included remediation of Phalen Creek. That fine little coldwater creek now runs clear and clean, and it is crowded with wild watercress; you can spot the cress in Swede Hollow’s seeps and in the fast-moving creek itself in the National Park Service (NPS)’s Bruce Vento Nature Sanctuary. Watercress is an indicator species for high-calcium, clean coldwater streams—and Phalen Creek is now plush with heaps of it.

The creek being part of a NPS sanctuary, its watercress is off-limits to harvesting, but I suspect the government wouldn’t begrudge you a leaf or two. It’s worth establishing a benchmark for the bite and bitterness of wild cress—the taste is definitely worth learning.

And then, very happily, you can set about using the hydroponically grown cress at Mississippi Market or farming your own upland cress. The former lacks the teeth of wild watercress, and that may please you if fieriness is not your goal. The latter can blow the top of your head off, and all you need to grow it is a clay pot, a big saucer to put beneath that pot, and plenty of sunshine and water.

Hydroponically grown watercress like that we sell at Mississippi Market is a gentler creature than its wild cousin. It’s a lovely substitute for sprouted seeds in sandwiches and salads. It contributes just a bit of tang to creamy sauces, cheese-based dips, and sandwich fillings. Because its leaves are very thin, it doesn’t fair well when subjected to heat, unless you choose to lose its texture entirely—for example, watercress soup is luscious, but the leaves pretty much melt into your soup base, contributing only flavor and jubilant green color.

Salute to Spring Stir-Fry

Ingredients:

2 Tbs. mild extra-virgin olive oil
1/3 c. shallots, finely chopped
2 Tbs. fresh ginger, minced
Generous handful of fresh shiitake, cut thickly, stems removed
½ lb. young, thin asparagus, cut into 2” diagonal slices
2 Tbs. chicken or mushroom broth or white wine
Freshly ground black pepper and sea salt to taste
1 c. fresh cress (water or land)
Fresh lemon juice

Heat wok or skillet on MEDIUM; when it becomes hot, add oil. When oil begins to shimmer, add shallots and garlic; cook until they become golden brown.
Add mushrooms and cook until white cross-sections of their caps become pale gold. Add asparagus and stir until coated with oil. They only need about 2 minutes if you want them to remain crisp. (Cook a bit longer if you prefer them soft.) Add liquid, then taste for seasoning and add salt and pepper.
When stir-fry tastes right, remove from heat, stir in cress, and add a squeeze of lemon juice. Serve immediately.

Watercress Soup

You can substitute homegrown land cress. Either way, the color is beautiful!

Ingredients:

2 Tbs. butter
½ c. chopped yellow onion
1 russet potato, peeled and chopped (medium-sized)
2 c. chicken or vegetable stock
½ lb. cress
1–2 c. whole milk or ½ c. heavy cream
Sea salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

Melt butter in heavy pot over MEDIUM heat. When foaming stops, add onion and potato, and stir to coat them. Cover, reduce heat to LOW, and simmer for about 10 minutes.
Test potatoes for doneness; they should be almost cooked through. When they are, add stock, return heat to MEDIUM, and bring mixture to a boil. Cook until potatoes are very tender.
Add cress and cook just until it is soft. Add milk to stop the cooking; the amount you add is variable, depending on how thick you want your soup to be.
Scrape the mixture into your blender and purée. Add salt and pepper to taste.

‘Tis the Season for Citrus

Jan — Fri, 17 Feb 2012 19:42:19 +0000

Winter is the drear season in the north for fresh fruit. As far back as the 1870s, grocers in Minnesota challenged winter by importing lemons and oranges during the winter holidays. My mother, born in Gibbon (Sibley County) in 1907, remembered oranges in December, each carefully wrapped in red tissue paper, each selling for $1—very big bucks in those days for a bit of citrus heaven.

The Pacific Fruit Express began operating that year, delivering California citrus in winter by rail. The entire country came to expect fresh oranges, lemons, and tangerines in their grocery stores and on their tables most of the year.

Citrus fruits were first grown and cultivated in southeast Asia and have a fairly wide range of ripening dates, so they’re available almost yearround. In California, where they are grown both as orchard and backyard fruit, most people know when grapefruit, pomelo, tangerines, kumquats, loquats, oranges (Seville, navel, Valencia), Meyer and other lemons are in bloom and ripen. You can smell them when they’re blossoming; entire neighborhoods are suffused by the extraordinary scent of citrus flowers for weeks at a time. In Central California, trees bear so heavily that their trunks and branches have to be shored up to bear the weight of basketball-sized grapefruit. In December, navel oranges plunge into backyard koi ponds like bombs.

Happily for us here in Minnesota, citrus fruit keeps very well, so long as it’s kept cool in the basement or refrigerator crisper. Left out on the counter, fruit stays juicy, but its skin, which is very porous, dries to a leathery hide. (If you’re eating the fruit raw, peel the pith away from the skin, dry the skin, and keep it for use in braises—heavenly!)

One of my favorite citrus fruits is the Meyer lemon, a happy accident of cross-pollination between a small Chinese orange and lemon. The Meyer used to be a strictly backyard tree in California—the tree itself is very small, lending itself to typical backyard spaces—well-loved by people who grow it because of the fruit’s sunny, mild nature. Its skin is exceptionally thin, and the fruit has very little acid, so you can cook with it or use it for lemonade without needing to add much sugar. In almost fifty years in California and Arizona, I never saw a Meyer lemon for sale—you either acquired the fruit from your own or a neighbor’s tree. Now Meyers are grown commercially in California and Texas, and we at Mississippi Market are the fortunate recipients. If you’ve bought them before, you know that they are highly seasonal—late winter through early spring is their time to shine.

Blood oranges are another terrific citrus fruit. Their color is so arresting that they seem to beg to be used for fruit drinks, tarts, and salads, where their deep, glowing red-purple flesh can be highlighted.

If you haven’t tried pomelos, they’re worth tasting. These grapefruit-parents help you appreciate what pomologists have wrought through hybridizing cultivars like the famous and succulent Ruby Red grapefruit from Texas. Pomelos are larger and their flesh much drier than the very moist Ruby Red’s. Their flavor and texture are distinctive and definitely worth trying. Curious what happens when you mix a tangerine and a pomelo? A tangelo! Also delicious, of course.

Two terrific uses for Meyer lemons are lemon curd and lemon tarts. You can substitute blood oranges in both recipes.

Lemon Tart

Ingredients:

3 Meyer lemons, sliced paper thin, rind and all

2 c. sugar

pie or tart dough for 9-inch single crust

4 eggs, beaten

Preheat oven to 425°.
Combine lemon slices and 1.5 c. sugar in a bowl; gently toss together so slices are well coated. Let stand at least 2 hours, preferably overnight, lightly covered. At end of macerating period, taste to see if you need more sugar. The mixture should be tart.
Add beaten egss to sugar/lemon mixture.
Pour mixture into dough-lined 8- or 9-inch tart pan.
Bake at 425° for 15 minutes.
Lower heat to 375° and bake for about 20 minutes more or until knife inserted in center comes out clean.
If lemons start to burn, cover lightly with tinfoil.

Lemon or Mandarin Orange Curd
Curd isn’t only terrific on toast or scones; it makes a wonderful icing between layers of white butter cake. Spoon a big alongside pound cake or vanilla ice cream.

Ingredients:

1 c. superfine sugar

4 1/2 Tbs. cornstarch

1/2 ts. sea salt

1 1/2 c. lemon or orange juice

1/2 c. water

4 room-temperature egg yolks

1/4 c. unsalted butter

3 Tbs. lemon or orange zest

In a saucepan, mix sugar, cornstarch, and salt. Gradually stir in the juice and water. Bring to a boil over low heat, stirring constantly. Remove saucepan from the heat.
With a whisk, beat egg yolks until pale and smooth. Carefully add about half of the sugar/juice mixture to the egg yolks, stirring constantly to prevent the yolks from curdling. Then blend in the rest of the yolks. Transfer the mixture back into the saucepan.
Bring to a boil again over low heat; boil 1 minute, stirring constantly.
Remove from the heat and blend in the butter and rind; stir until mixture is very well blended.
Scrape into a small mixing bowl and allow to cool.

Mississippi Market » Produce

Start Spring with the Best: Watercress

‘Tis the Season for Citrus