Eating weeds: Purslane trumps pizza

For once, I am out of words. The middle owl-cat (7) proclaimed in a fit of passion that he prefers this dinner to pizza.

Michael Pollan tipped me off to the culinary potential of this unassuming weed that is full of vitamins and omega-3s. We tried it a while ago in a salad, but it is a bit hard to eat raw after weeding it out of the vegetable patch for years. It may be a bit like someone telling you, "Go ahead, add raw chicken to your salad. It's actually a real cancer fighter!" It's just hard to get past some things.

But after I tried out this recipe for verdolagas last week, we had to have it again this week. It's that good.

I hate to replicate recipes that another hard-working food-blogger has put together and deserves credit for. I will describe the basic steps, so you get an idea of what it is. Then you can go to the source for the recipe. It's brilliant.

Of course, you could always substitute spinach for the purslane, but how fun would that be?

Verdolagas (see link for full recipe; my recommendations in italics):

1. Make a simple green tomatillo salsa in the blender.
2. Boil 2 diced potatoes in salted water (suggested, but not used in the original)
3. Wash and chop the purslane (stems and all).
4. Boil the purslane. Add a little lemon or lime juice to the water in an attempt to preserve the color of the bright green leaves.
5. Heat oil in a pan. Toss in some garlic. Add the green salsa.
6. Drain purslane and add it to the green salsa.
7. Drain potatoes and add it to the green salsa and purslane.
8. Heat a cast iron pan. Heat corn tortillas on the cast iron until there are brown specks on one side. I make a quesadilla with a corn tortilla, split it open and proceed with step 9. The owl-cats like cheddar. I like feta in mine. 
9. Fill tortillas and roll up like a taquito. Or fill with other veggies and eat like a taco.
10. Be prepared for compliments.

Quinoa bowl, pasta bowl: adults happy, kids happy (and a parenting book review too!)

I have to redeem myself after the gazpacho post. I do care about my children--and even their taste buds.

A great parenting book is John Gottman's Raising an Emotionally Intelligent Child: The Heart of Parenting. For me, the central theme of this book is very other-centered, that you need to respect your child and his emotions. (I only have boys, so this is not being gender-exclusive. I am sure you want to understand girls too, though I am beginning to think I wouldn't know how to.) 

Gottman says you need to have empathy, to imagine your child’s emotional world, and seek to understand him. You need to imagine how dependent he is on you and how he perceives your actions toward him. (He asks something like, "Would you like it if one of your co-workers were to treat you in a similar manner?") Gottman sees your goal as a parent as being able to help your child deal effectively with strong emotions and to help him be independent in that, to become a “self-soother.” 

So when I try to empathize with my children's taste buds, I think of my own taste buds as a child. Rhubarb was out of the question as were beets and turnips and other things I didn't even know I liked until I was 30. My mom didn't push the issue and now I eat almost anything (except Skittles, blood sausage, and sodium benzoate).

Children have more sensitive taste buds, and, according to at least one case study (our own), red heads have ultra sensitive taste buds. Before we adults congratulate ourselves on refinement, we may be able to handle more intense tastes simply because we have fewer taste buds (many of them being killed off by doing taxes).

This grain bowl was a hit at our house. It is more an amalgam of recipes that can be adjusted to taste than a single do-it-my-way-or-hit-the-highway recipe. I remembered a favorite dinner with friends--penne with pesto, green beans, and boiled potatoes. That inspired our choice of vegetables.

Everybody Happy Grain Bowls

Grains:

Cooked quinoa (favorite way to cook quinoa)

Cooked sea shell pasta

(Cooked brown rice would also be nice.)

Sauces:

Pesto

Tomato-based sauce (I use America's Test Kitchen)

(A light Alfredo would also be nice.)

Veggies:

Sauteed mushrooms (shallots are a nice addition to this)

Cooked green beans (I love the whole green beans available at my Costco)

Boiled diced potatoes (or for an extra Wow level, try my favorite roasted potatoes)

(Cooked carrots or yellow summer squash or cauliflower would have worked well for my children)

Set everything out buffet style. You can either let your children go crazy on their own or act like that grumpy guy at the pasta bar they've been to. Act extra stingy about giving them vegetables--they will want them all. Something about scarcity inspires desire.

White gazpacho (Don't invite the kids.)

White gazpacho, garnished with chives, olive oil, and grapes

Of course there are two kinds of parents in the world: those who cater to their children's taste buds and those who don't. I often masquerade as the first, but if I sustain that too long, I want to bite someone. 

The owl-cats are good to tolerate my experiments even if they don't relish them all. If nothing else, it builds their character. They don't get an alternative meal every day, but we have adopted my sister's rule that once a week, they can choose to say, "No thanks" to a dinner and eat a peanut butter sandwich or quesadilla instead--as long as they at least try whatever I've spent hours making. 

(Is it just me, or is there an inverse relationship between the amount of time you spend on a dish and how much the kiddies like it?)

So, yes, you have guessed it. They didn't like my white gazpacho.

White gazpacho makes sense if you think about it (history-wise). Tomatoes are not indigenous to Spain. When they came from the new world, then the Spaniards tossed them here and there and everywhere, as did every thinking cuisine. 

But before tomatoes there was stale bread, and grapes, and olive oil, and nuts. And there were hot summers. (Cue: Spanish guitar music)

And so--buen provecho--White Gazpacho.

This recipe comes from that extensive site, Simply Recipes. I did not have blanched almonds on hand, only raw almonds, so I substituted the skinless macademia nuts I had in the freezer from our adventure in Kauai. They worked beautifully as would pine nuts.

I found this cold soup surprisingly satisfying. (Sometimes cold soups are anything but.) It was sweet and salty, full-bodied and refreshing.

Owl said this tasted Spanish--he did spend two years there. I said I wasn't so sure. Only a trip can settle this.

Homemade paneer triumph

Homemade paneer, pictured with garden-fresh herbs

I have to be upfront. I don't want to disparage you from making paneer, that wonderful Indian cheese, but it did take me an hour stirring the milk as it boiled (granted I did make a double-batch). The 10-year-old owl-cat, old-soul that he is, said, "Was that really worth your time?" Perhaps because it had turned out well, I could give an optimistic answer, but at that moment it struck me that even had it not turned out well, I would still have said it was worth my time. That is a fine measure for a hobby or passion or addiction--whatever we are going to label this food-experiment thing.

Musings aside, this cheese was delicious. I made it to cube and turn into Saag Paneer (a.k.a. Palek Paneer), one of the best things Indian cuisine has done to spinach. It was heavenly for this purpose, but there are a number of other ways to eat it. (Many are listed in Madhur Jaffrey's World Vegetarian.)

Before trying out this recipe, this video is a great introduction to making paneer. 

Homemade Paneer

adapted from Madhur Jaffrey's World Vegetarian; Note: I doubled the recipe to good effect.

1/2 gallon (8 cups) whole milk

3-4 tablespoons white vinegar

0. Line a colander with cheesecloth. Place colander over large bowl.

1. Heat milk in large pot over medium heat.

2. Stir gently to keep milk from burning on the bottom of the pot. (I read nonstick may work well, but I don't have a large nonstick pan.)

3. Keep stirring. Read a cookbook while to wait. Or Crime and Punishment.

4. Keep stirring. Not vigorously, just a gentle motion along the bottom of the pot.

5. When the milk boils, stir in 3 tablespoons of vinegar. Stir. It will start to curdle. It will look like cottage cheese swimming in a yellow liquid. You may need to add another tablespoon of vinegar if it does not curdle.

6. Strain the curds through the colander. Keep the yellow liquid (whey) for making bread if you do that kind of thing.

7. Now you can use the curds as is or fully drain the curds, twist the cheesecloth so that you have a nice round bundle of cheese. 

8. Place your cheese bundle on a plate, cover with another plate, and weight it down with whatever will hold still. Small children are not good at this task. 5-lb dumbbells are as would be several of Owl's more hearty tomes of philosophy.

9. After 5-10 minutes you have paneer.