When it comes to these green gems, bigger isn't better -- Choyote Squash Tacos

A missing onion for one of my standard taco fillings led to a nice alteration. This simple combination of sauteed choyote squash and eggplant worked well in a corn tortilla piled with sunflower sprouts from farmers market, and these pickled red onions from Mollie Katzen’s Moosewood Cookbook. 

A prolific vine of choyote squash grew wild in my backyard for nearly a decade, then suddenly disappeared. Luckily I see them at farmer’s markets regularly; with one cautionary note regarding the size available there. There is a trick to choosing and preparing them: eat the babies, avoid the adults. Baby choyote should fit in your palm. They are simple to prepare since the entire squash is edible. You can eat the skin of the young squash and the seed too.  

The adult fruit, on the other hand, requires peeling and seeding, which doesn’t sound hard to do, right? Well, there’s a sticky substance between the meat and the skin. The glue gets all over my fingers and doesn’t wash off without serious scrubbing. It’s pretty annoying. In the adult squash the seed has hardened, so you must slice around the pear-shaped seed. The flavor of the larger fruit tastes the same, it’s just more work.

Choyote Eggplant Tacos

3 Tbl. olive oil

4 small diced Japanese eggplant

2 small diced choyote squash with skin and seed

1 tsp. each of chili powder, oregano and cumin (Optional)

Salt to taste

Corn Tortillas

Sunflower sprouts

Molly Kazen's pickled red onion

Heat oil,  then sauté eggplant 4 to 5 minutes until tender. Add choyote and continue to sauté 2 to 3 more minutes. Choyote are naturally sweet, so don't over cook. They have such a nice crunch when al dente. Also, eggplant and choyote are such a complimentary pairing, if you're looking for a neutral palette, they really don't need the spices.

It's time for something green that is totally unIrish -- Salsa Verde

My dog walking buddy, Meg, dropped in for a soursop margarita last weekend. As an impromptu snack I whipped up a salsa verde in under 5 minutes. The brilliant color alone makes an impression. Besides, it’s yumalicious.

When it comes to red salsa, I always simmer it on the stove top in lieu of serving as salsa fresca because those raw onions give me dragon breath. But for a zesty tomatillo salsa that is pure freshness in the mouth and easy to assemble, all you need is a knife, cutting board and food processor or blender.

I can practically drink it. In fact, I bet is would mix well with vodka. Why not? Think Irish Bloody Mary. I’ll let you know.

These tomatillos came from Costuless, but there was a farmer selling tomatillo last summer at the Wednesday Kapaa Farmer’s Market. As much as I love to cruise the tables loaded with local produce, I rarely attend the Kapaa market anymore even though it's barely three miles from home; the 3 p.m. market set on black asphalt and timed to collide with the middle school traffic has lost its shine. 

I order most my produce from John and Nandanie Wooten. I call the order in by 9 am. Monday, Tuesday or Thursday, then pick up at 3 p.m. from their Anahola farm. Their number is 823-6807.

Salsa Verde

In a blender of food processor blitz:

10 tomatillos quartered

3 cloves chopped garlic

4 leaves of kale, Swiss Chard or lettuce

1 handful chopped cilantro

2 jalapenos, sometimes I use fresh and other times the pickled canned ones.

3 green onion

½ cup water

1 pasilla pepper, I roast the pasilla on a gas flame, peel and seed.

1 tsp. salt

Enjoy.

Apple Tofu Sauté – Two techniques converged, and the results? A bright, flavorful meal.

Less is definitely more when preparing a dish for potluck. Two weeks ago my friend Morgan made an unseasoned tofu with whole garlic cloves for a dinner party. The shiny white “pudding” poised in the company of a brilliant garnet yam casserole, polenta salad and an array of other colorful bowls, looked anemic by comparison, but was possibly the most talked about dish at the party. 

I tend to overcompensate for tofu’s neutrality by over seasoning. So I did eye her dish with suspicion, which quickly evaporated after the first bite drove me back for seconds.

She told me she cooks it over a very low heat for a long time. Her method differed from how I usually prep tofu for a stir fry or soup; I brown the cubes in sizzling oil, then flavor with Braggs Liquid Aminos, maple syrup and lemon juice. Morgan added no flavoring beyond these fat poached garlic cloves. I loved the simplicity of the flavor for many reasons, foremost, that too often my tummy rejects all the weird food combining that can happen at a potluck dinner.

Then the following week my friend Meg, who swears she’s not adept in the kitchen, (liar) had a stroke of genius when she added diced apple to a vegetable soup. Apple. Who knew?

Last night I employed the two new strategies and the results were excellent. One caveat, I chose firm tofu in place of Morgan’s silken since I was adding vegetables. 

The only catch is that the one essential ingredient is a fine balsamic vinegar. I used Olives Wild raspberry-ginger, white Balsamic vinegar. For this dish I didn’t want to discolor the tofu with a black vinegar. Olives Wild is in Flagstaff, Arizona. My best gal pal Kelly turned me on to it, and fortunately keeps a regular supply flowing my way. Thanks Kel-Kel.

This is a quick meal I made in under 30 minutes. There are few side dishes quicker or as delicious as polenta. Here is an herbaceous polenta that compliments the subtlety of the sauté. 

Herbed Polenta

2 ¼ cups vegetable stock

½ cup polenta

1 tsp. Thyme

1 tsp. Dry French Tarragon

1 tsp. Fresh minced rosemary

2-3 green onions, green part only

1/3 cup grated Parmesan

butter to taste

Boil stock, stir in polenta. Simmer, stirring often until the polenta thickens. This will be barely 5 minutes. Stir in the butter, herbs and Parmesan. Cover until ready to serve. If you use it immediately it will be a soft mash and once covered for a few minutes, it will solidify into more of a cake. I like both ways. If you use fresh thyme or tarragon just double the amount. And go wild with different herbs. Sometimes I don’t have one or the other and replace with parsley, oregano or even cilantro. 

*Notes:

Penzeys Spices: This is where you can procure quality spices and dry herbs. Penzey’s publishes a great catalogue. They include customer recipes and stories. Fun stuff!

Olives Wild: This is where you can order killer vinegars and oils. The site is not operational yet, but there is an email for requesting a list of products. Trust me and just order the raspberry-ginger white balsamic. You can’t go wrong.

Apple Tofu Sauté

2 Tbl. Olive oil

One tub firm tofu cut into 1-inch squares

1 full head of roasted garlic

2 bundles of bok choy or any green leafy thing you like

1 large carrot cut into matchsticks

2 celery stalks cut fine

1 Ambrosia apple, Fuji, Pink Lady or Gala would be fine too

A generous drizzle of Olives Wild raspberry-ginger white balsamic

A sprinkle of sumac, this is a lemony spice. I think lemon pepper would be a suitable substitute.

Heat oil. Sauté tofu squares 5 minutes covered on the lowest heat on your smallest burner. Flip tofu when it is very lightly golden and add roasted garlic and sumac. Simmer uncovered not for another 5 minutes. Drizzle with Balsamic, simmering maybe one more minute. Remove from pan to a bowl, now toss in carrot and celery. Sauté till tender, add bok choy and diced apple. Toss and sauté until the bok choy is bright green but not wilting, maybe 2 minutes. Return tofu with all its yummy juices to the pan and warm for another minute.

Recipe Malfunctions -- When ingredient substitutions fail

Didn't this dish photograph beautifully. I wish it tasted as scrumptious as it looks.

Every curious cook does it: improvisation. We take liberties with someone else's recipe for our own creative appetite. In this case, I didn't have all of the listed ingredients for the Royal Potato Salad in Yotam Ottolenghi's book, Plenty, one of my favorite cookbooks. I've included the recipe link above rather than print it here.

The impulse to make it arose when my husband returned home from work with a container of pickled quail eggs and a dozen fresh. A customer at work raises quail and shared them with him. Apparently these folks sell their eggs out of a parking lot across from Kapaa's Wednesday farmer's market.

I found Ottolenghi's recipe which included quail eggs, but didn't have plain basil for the pesto. What I did have was lemon basil and since the recipe called for sorrel, and sorrel has a lemony flavor, I thought lemon basil would substitute. It didn't. Both my husband and I agree the potatoes taste perfumed.

As if that wasn't enough to change, I also used walnuts in place of pinenuts and roasted garlic in place of raw. Stop shaking your head. I was running amuck in the kitchen. Sometimes three lefts lead to one "right" or so that's my justification for wrong turns.

Then there was the egg boiling debacle.

Ottolenghi suggests boiling them 30 seconds to 2 minutes, depending on how raw you like the yolk. I went with 2 minutes and it was too long. A softer yolk would have been much prettier, even if it wouldn't have rescued the dish.

I hadn't intended to post kitchen failures, but then realized I don't know how to use lemon basil. I could Google it, but it'd be more fun if you shared your use of this herb. Thanks for considering.

Cheers Big Ears: Soursop Margaritas with Salty Li Hing Mui Rim

An ugly, delicious fruit deserving of a sexier name, soursop is a slightly sweet, custardy flesh with a hint of grapefruit; my absolute favorite tropical fruit.
My mom and I discovered it first as a juice while cruising the Kapaa Market last spring. One vendor sold little bottles at $3 a pop, so my husband and I planted a tree and this spring have a dozen of the ungainly alien orbs.
They peel easy, take a few minutes to seed and make refreshing smoothies and margaritas. Some of the fruit we freeze in gallon bags, flattening it out so that when needed, we just chisel off a few chunks. We also juice it in our Çhampion so we have a half gallon in the fridge for smoothies.
As for li hing mui powder, try to find it without aspartame and weird red dyes. Sadly, that is all I can find on Kauai at the moment. Mix it with Real Salt, kosher style, available at Hoku Market.
Enjoy!

The California Sunrise Sandwich

Seated at a sun bleached wooden picnic table, we shared our first meal of blue corn chips and Trader Joe’s salsa. Three horses lazed in the shade of a Buckeye tree near a deep steel water trough. Wes was likely the only vegan cattle ranch hand for 200 miles in that cowboy dominated region outside of Porterville, California in the early 90s.

We’d met just weeks before at California Hot Springs. I was there staying in a cabin with girlfriends. He was with an L.A. buddy visiting for the weekend. Wes had fled Southern California four years before in pursuit of a quieter life. Eighteen years later, we live on Kauai, even further from the buzz of all things metropolitan. 

Over the years his contribution to our menu hasn’t grown much. In the 90’s he lived on chips and salsa, interrupted only by a sandwich recipe he developed himself.

California Sunrise Sandwich

Serve open-faced on toast, drizzled with flax oil and a sprinkle of sea salt, then smeared with chunks of avocado, topped with sprouted sunflower seeds and drizzled again, heavily, with the flax oil and more sea salt. 

Most people know the sprout in her later stages of growth, with tender white stems tipped with two bright leaves. The Sunrise Sandwich uses the sprout earlier in germination, well before chlorophyll has softened the texture and greened the flavor. The beige winged youngster has a dominant nutty flavor and more crunch.

Raw sprouted sunflower seeds are hailed for being 25% protein and lavish in zinc and vitamins B, C and E.

Sprouted Sunflower Seeds

Sprout in small batches of ½ to 1 cup. 

The flavor changes dramatically once chlorophyll forms.

Rinse one cup raw organic sunflower seeds. 

Soak overnight on the counter. Rinse, strain, then place colander over a bowl on the counter.

Cover with a kitchen clothe to inhibit sunlight. 

Eat immediately. No waiting or mollycoddling required. 

Tips: 

• Keep them in the colander for daily rinsing, set over a deep bowl for air circulation. If they turn green, toss into the garden.

• Our favorite bread for toasting is the Alvarado Street Bakery Sprouted Rye. A tangy sour dough is also delicious. On Kauai tart sour dough is hard to come by. Trader Joe’s carried our favorite back in the day. 

• Flax oil of choice is Spectrum, but it has a pour spout not easy to control for drizzling. Barlene’s has an easy squeeze style spout but a stronger flavor than Spectrum. That’s why I go to the effort of refilling the Barlene’s bottle with Spectrum flax seed oil. 

Homework

Word problem: How long does it take to move 125 pounds of 83 year-old, moving at approximately .0018 miles per hour, with an opposing wind speed of 10 knots, across a polished wood surface?

If you’re in your mid-to-late 40s, or (ahem) 50, this is a question to ponder.

Mom and I spend a lot of time staring into each others’ eyes: She clenches my shoulders in a vice-grip, concentrating on lifting a foot. I say, “shift your weight.” Her brow creases as she comes up on tiptoe. I sway her back to regain center, then tilt side-to-side, mimicking a walking gait, and she moves toward me. I’ve learned that for the best support, I place her hands on my shoulders and rest my own along her bra line.

When it comes to sitting though, her grip often shifts upward. 

“Mom, you’re hurting me,” I tell her as her hands slip up to my neck. 

The trick is not to rush, which is the challenge. Mom and I move through the world at a different speed now.  The past four years have taught me that much.

Two years ago we graduated from walker to wheelchair. It was not graceful or painless. Mom's spine twists a bit more every year and walking unassisted is no longer possible for her.

We make many clumsy public appearances. Before I expose my ignorance, you must understand the steep learning curve daughters and mothers endure at this juncture in life. Learning to navigate the unfamiliar climate changes of an aging parent is, metaphorically speaking, the Himalaya of life lessons: wrought with crevasses, frostbite and an oxygen-depleted atmosphere caused not by altitude, but from holding one’s breath in frustration. 

On this day four years ago, my sister Sue, mom and I were in front of Bread and Deli in Kukui Grove Shopping Center, with mom at her walker. Sue was behind, (cattle prodding) and I was in front saying, “here girl!” For a moment Sue and I both were distracted and mom slid forward with the walker but without moving her feet. Suddenly she was a plank at 30 degrees, white knuckling the handles with her toes nailed to the concrete. I panicked and pushed the walker toward her to catch the fall. Her eyes were wide, her mouth a tight seam of irritation.

Sue and I stared at each other a moment, then broke into fits of laughter at how close we came to face-planting our mother on cement. 

“You two are idiots,” Mom growled. And rightly so.

Of course this scene could not go unwitnessed. In the window seat of the deli sat a young couple and their baby looking wide-eyed with horror.

Sue and I couldn’t stop laughing. It was the hysteria of those who’ve dealt with a lot of stress and finally a pressure valve had blown.

For those who’ve not lived with an aging parent this may sound like elder abuse. Until you’ve looked under your mother’s hood (and by hood I mean Depends) to change the oil (and by oil I mean, well, you know what I mean), then please suspend judgment.

My dad flew off the planet fast; one week he was peddling his bike to church, the next he was dying in a hospital with a brain tumor. Mom on the other hand, is taking her time. It’s hard and funny; traumatic and utterly intimate. She is falling to pieces with her mind in tact and we are all doing our best to bring compassion to the fore. 

With compassion comes the rigorous care required when dealing with a body shutting down.

In March mom moved in with my husband and I. She’ll be here for four months, then cycle back to the Mainland to live with another daughter. Sitting at the foot of her bed one morning in April as she slowly woke, she looked down the length of the bed at me and said, “I wonder how I could have done this differently.”

I asked, “What?”

“This,” she said. “So I’m not such a burden to you kids.”

I reminded her of all the healing that had occurred in her relationship with one of my sisters.

“And it’s because of taking care of you mom,” I said. “Healing is not all “Kumbaya” and let’s hug it out. Sometimes it’s messy. We wouldn’t be where we are today if you’d done it differently. Thank you."

My sisters and I are enrolled in life’s oldest assignment; one with no course description or syllabus and no instructors. This homework is unique to every individual. We all arrive on Earth through the same channel, but in death there are many exit strategies. I only hope to meet it with a measure of courage and grace.

Meanwhile, there is work to be done.