It's time for another installment of... Sandwich Spreads/Dips/Sauce Bases.
Finally (and I do mean finally) all of the humus is gone, as are the spreads I'd stashed away in the freezer. This week, I branched out into some unexplored territory, using ingredients from pears to radishes. These spreads are still a breeze to make, but definitely aren't your everyday guacamole.
Cherry Belle & Black Radish with vanilla.
This spread is just as simple as it sounds. On my trip to the grocery store, I was delighted to find two varieties of winter radishes -- cherry belles and black. Cherry belle radishes are your average salad radishes -- thumb-sized rounds with red skins (sometimes leaning toward fuchsia), they contain a lot of water and boast a satisfyingly crisp, refreshing, peppery flavor. Black radishes look a bit like beets at first glance, but have tough, course brown-black skins; a bit stronger in flavor than cherry belles, if consumed raw, they are best finely grated and can be balanced out on a slice of bread by a bit of margarine -- they tend to be rather spicy, like horseradish, and are arguably best cooked. I picked up a bunch of cherry belles (about ten) and two medium-sized blacks. A good cherry belle should be firm with green leaves (if the leaves are starting to yellow, chances are, the cherry belle is also starting to get older and softer) -- cherry belles tend to mold quickly, so watch out for slimy green-black spots on the leaves and stems near the radish tops; black radishes should feel very hard (if they are soft to the touch and the skins are starting to wrinkle, although they'll still taste fine, they will be quite difficult to peel).
At home, I washed the cherry belles and cut them from free from their stalks/leaves (keep them -- you can eat them as salad greens, cooked or raw). Slice the ends off of each radish, then cut them in halves.
As for the black radishes, you'll want to peel them first -- like a carrot. Chop the peeled radishes into chunks.
Put all of the radishes into a pot and cover with water -- bring to a boil, cover, and allow them to simmer until soft (you'll be able to pierce them easily with a fork) -- about thirty minutes. Keep an eye on the pot -- I had to add water twice. When cooked, the radishes will appear somewhat translucent (something like an onion).
I allowed my radishes to cool a bit, then blended them along with 1/4 tsp of vanilla.
Anjou Pear with Ginger and Sesame Seeds.
I typically like to focus on vegetable bases for my spreads -- I find that, while I often pick up an apple or an orange, I'm much less likely to reach for raw vegetables over the course of the day; preparing them as spreads means that I get in a serving of veggies simply by eating a sandwich, accompanied by a small piece of hand fruit. But this week, I thought that I could consider using fruit as the base for a spread -- not wanting to make a marmalade, or end up with a mushy applesauce, I knew that it would be a challenge to produce a texture that would hold up on a slice of bread. I also wanted to avoid adding sugar, and rather, somehow make a fruit spread with savory, main course flair.
I decided to begin with anjou pears. The anjou is characterized by its bright green skin and super-firm flesh. If you purchase an anjou thinking that it's unripe and wait for it to soften, you'll be waiting for a very, very long time -- best suited for baking, the anjou's apple-like hardness arguably detracts from its flavor, which is best brought to life when these pears are heated & softened.
I washed and sliced four anjou pears -- the core of a pear is little more than a string leading to a kidney-bean-sized pocket where the seeds reside, thus, the best way to remove it is to first cut the pear in half, then each half in half again -- slice very, very close to the pointed ridge with a paring knife down from the stem to the seeds. Chop the pears into chunks. I choose not to peel them -- the peels will add a little extra "sturdiness" to the resultant spread.
As I said, I wanted to somehow take my pears over to the savory side (if I wanted a sweet fruit spread, I'd make jam). I decided to play to a classic asian-inspired combination: ginger and sesame seeds.
I peeled and sliced enough ginger to equal approximately two tablespoons minced. Leaving the ginger in slices is perfectly fine -- the whole thing will end up in your blender anyway.
While you wait, toast 1 1/2 tablespoons of sesame seeds in a skillet (covered) -- about two minutes. You'll be able to smell them when they're ready.
To finish the spread, simply blend the ginger and pears until smooth, and stir in the toasted sesame seeds.
Sweet Pea with lemon and poppy seeds.By a long-shot the easiest of the week, I couldn't resist making another pea-based spread. Fantastically delicious, it's ready to eat in three minutes flat.
For this one, I began by toasting a tablespoon of poppy seeds in a covered skillet (two minutes -- again, as with the sesame seeds, you'll smell them when they're ready); I opened up and drained a can of peas and put them into my blender (about 1 1/2 cups), along with the toasted poppy seeds and a teaspoon of lemon zest. After a quick buzz, this fresh spread is table-ready. I find that it has a slightly-sweet and remarkably fresh flavor, especially considering that it comes primarily out of a can.
Tofu Scramble.
The most involved recipe of the week is also the most versatile -- a tofu scramble. Learning how to make an imitation-egg dish is one of those tricks that I think every vegan chef should learn early on. This one is inspired by a delicious tofu scramble that I had at a great little brunch buffet at a café in Berlin (Café Morgenrot) -- last Saturday, I think I pretty much singlehandedly emptied the bowl on the bar.
My take on the recipe begins with 200 grams of firm tofu. There are many great arguments for using silken tofus as bases in scrambles, and in general, I agree -- the ultra-soft texture of silken tofu already has an egg-like charm that will produce a somewhat creamy dish that is, indeed, like scrambled eggs. I didn't have a package of silken tofu in my refrigerator, so I decided to make do with what I had. Thus I began by super-finely hacking my tofu to bits -- imagine that you're staring down a bowl of egg salad -- you'll want to approximate the size of those little bits of recognizable egg.
Next, dice a large white onion, a tomato, and one red bell pepper (seeds and all). Don't worry if some bigger pieces escape your knife. Into a skillet with a tablespoon of canola oil (or any other neutral oil -- I used rapeseed) add the onion, pepper, tomato and tofu. To season, I used 1/2 teaspoon of salt, two tablespoons of fresh parsley, 1/2 teaspoon of smoked paprika, a teaspoon of hot curry powder, and a teaspoon of whole cumin seeds. I added a lot of freshly ground black pepper and a teaspoon of very spicy dijon mustard.
You'll want to sauté the mixture for about ten minutes -- enough time to combine and enhance all of the flavors. Stir occasionally to prevent the tofu from sticking. After ten minutes, I added a cup of corn, and cooked on low for another five minutes.
I made enough of this scramble to freeze a container of it. Great with a piece of toast at breakfast, it's also perfect for wraps (breakfast-burrito style).
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