Two-Tone Stir-Fry

18 February 2013

Two-Tone Stir-Fry.

Following the epic hues of Sunday night's dinner, it seemed as though it might be a better idea to scale back my palette rather than striving for an equally colorful -- or more colorful -- presentation. Sometimes delicious things come in monotones... And no, I don't mean to reference the classic American "shades of beige" dinner. No, on Monday night, I balanced out a bright green leek with a color that's actually not a color at all. But before you raise a skeptical eyebrow, I'm here to tell you that there's a lot more to "white vegetables" than you would think.

This particular meal was to begin with two servings of leftover millet from the night before (about a cup cooked). Recalling that I'd cooked the grain in vegetable broth, I knew that it would be best paired with an oniony flavor. This worked out perfectly for me, because I also had half of a leek leftover from Saturday's lasagna. I allowed those two ingredients for inspiration, and built the rest of the meal around them.
A fried leek will provide a mild oniony flavor, but unlike an onion, when fried, will retain its crunch. As in the lasagna recipe, I cleaned my leek by slicing it open completely, lengthwise, and separating the nestled leaves out from one another under cool running water. The entirety of a leek is edible, from its white base to the tips of its dark green leaves. I'd already used the white portion in the lasagna, leaving me with the light-to-dark green portion at the top. I sliced the leaves, as I would an onion -- into strips, not a fine dice.

I then chose to enhance the flavor of the leek by adding its best friend/life partner to the equation -- a white onion. I chose a large one, which I chopped into pieces -- a little bit bigger than a dice. I added a clove of sliced garlic, and put everything into a skillet with a teaspoon of olive oil. (I find that millet tends to be a tad dry and thus, I planned to rely upon the oil to add a little bit of savory "moisture" to the end product.)

And then I checked in with my root bowl, where I found one lone black radish, just starting to soften a little. Tonight was going to be its night. I also took along two large parsley roots. If you happen to lay hands on a root vegetable that feels a little bit soft -- its skin has perhaps started to wrinkle a bit -- don't throw it away. Potatoes, beets, turnips, radishes, carrots -- all of your favorite roots will last a lot longer than you think. A soft root vegetable is still perfectly edible and, once cooked, is going to end up soft anyway. Storing your roots in a cool, dark, dry place is key to extending their shelf life.
I peeled both parsley roots and the black radish; I chopped the parsley roots into thin rounds (about 1/8" thick) and the radish into bite-sized pieces.

Perhaps you're wondering about the nutritional value of this relatively colorless meal (although, if you're looking into your skillet at that lovely green leek, you'll take that back). I genuinely assumed that onions were essentially water, of little more use than a mere flavoring particle -- no one ever talks about how good for you onions are. But they are. They're full of allyl sulfides and flavonoids which help to repair tissue damage (say, after a long workout), and to protect your heart and blood vessels against cholesterol. Their high sulfur content might help to strengthen bones and maintain bone density as you age. People who regularly eat onions have a lower risk of cancer. And in a day-to-day practical sense, onions also aid digestion. Leeks bring additional potassium and calcium to the table. Parsley roots and black radishes are full of fiber, too.

By now, my onions were starting to caramelize. I added the chopped vegetables along with a pinch of salt and a lot of freshly ground black pepper. I covered the skillet and allowed everything to cook on medium heat until the vegetables were just starting to get tender (about five minutes -- this is a matter of personal preference, so feel free to cook them a little longer if you wish). Rather than dirtying another pan -- I'm always a fan of cutting corners when it comes to clean-up -- I stirred the leftover millet (one cup cooked) directly into the vegetables.

Recognizing my own green-and-white color scheme and wanting to take it up to the next level, I added two teaspoons of capers to my final product and topped each serving of stir-fry with fresh basil leaves.
tin and I both wished that we could share smells over the internet, because you won't believe how incredible this stir-fry smelled until you make it yourself. -- And that's to say nothing of the taste, which certainly didn't disappoint. Sometimes the simplest meals really are the best.