saving time
spring forward, beet fatigue, and barbecue stand-ins
How’s everyone feeling after the time change, if there is one where you are? Personally, I never seem to feel extra tired or anything after the ‘lost’ hour, but it messes me up in other ways, like having to wake up in the dark again and being mad about it. And I can’t use the sunset as a sign I should start thinking about making dinner, the way I do in the weeks leading up to it. I’ll be minding my business, reading or hanging out on the computer and suddenly it’s almost 6:30 and I’m hungry and have hardly even considered what to make, usually scrambling to throw on a pot of pasta water or cut some potatoes for oven fries.
I do feel a little more energy, though, finally getting to some of the little things I’ve been putting off for no reason. Like cleaning my desk and computer screen, because I can see all the filth on it now that the sunlight hits it in a certain way; clearing forgotten jars of sauces out of the fridge. The downside is that while I feel mentally ready for spring, in reality, as the fresh snow on the mountains will tell you, it’s still pretty solidly winter. I might be able to go out in the afternoon without a scarf, but there’s no chance I’ll do so without a wool coat on. For now I have little choice but to continue begrudgingly eating my beets and potatoes while I wait for the first asparagus of the season.
While I do enjoy beets, their eternal presence in my fridge from October to April has me, by this time of year, pretty much out of new ideas for what to do with them, and sick of all my usual ones. But against all odds I managed to pull together a unique and fairly delicious meal, one of those ones where you just think of a few things you want to use up and somehow manage to frankenstein your way to a dish you actually might want to make again. I sort of had a beet risotto in mind, but didn’t want the hassle of actually making a risotto, so I made orzo instead. While prepping everything else, I roasted a few golden beets— I had red beets, too, but didn’t want them to colour the dish— to chop up and add in at the end.
I use this method for orzo often as kind of a baseline, adding things in various phases: shallot and garlic before the pasta at the start, along with any vegetables I want to cook down (I used some chopped kale for this), dried herbs or spices with the broth, and finally the cheese along with fresh herbs and any other things I don’t want to overcook. Generally I add in a little cream or milk along with the parmesan, too, to make it feel a bit more like a risotto, really silky and creamy, and some wine vinegar or lemon juice if it needs acidity. Here, I used fresh thyme leaves rather than basil, and a can of oil-packed tuna to round it out. A lot of recipes that call for oil-packed tuna will have you drain the oil before using the meat, which seems ridiculous to me— why waste it? Why not use the water-packed kind if you don’t want the flavour and extra fat from the oil?
Anyway, reading all the things that went into this you might think it would have too much going on, but it was satisfyingly balanced as well as filling; something I was excited to eat leftovers of the next day. And it fulfilled its purpose, which was to give me three less beets staring me in the face every time I opened the produce drawer.
Speaking of things staring me in the face, after buying red onion with the intention of making another jar of pickled red onion at least three times and then using the onion for something else because I’d put off doing it so long that I’d forgotten all about it. Then I’d make something and think, “this would be great with some pickled onion,” and repeat the process all over again. But I finally made them this week after choosing a dish for dinner that simply refuses to be enjoyed without them, and was once again in awe of my own ability to endlessly procrastinate on a task that takes all of fifteen minutes. I use this method, sometimes adding coriander or celery seeds if I feel like it, and keep them in a jar in the fridge. They last easily two months, if we don’t eat them all before then, but they’re really nice when they’re fresh enough to still have a fair bit of crunch to them, too.
The dish where pickled red onion is a requisite topping is this: baked rajma, a tomato-based red bean curry that I fell in love with towards the start of the pandemic because of how pantry-friendly it is. It’s something I continue to make a few times a year, because a particular and seemingly unplaceable craving will hit, and eventually I realise it’s for this. It’s hearty, fragrant, and spicy, and I love the way the sweet-sour crunch of the pickled onions contrast the cream or cheese melted over the top. I prefer heavy cream here, but we didn’t have any, and mozza (or feta, or paneer!) still works. Usually we serve this with basmati rice, but I also like it with flatbread— and I think it would lend itself well to being gently reheated the next day to poach an egg, like shakshuka.
My least favourite part of making this is the way chopping up the onions with the other aromatics in the food processor makes my eyes burn and water like crazy. It works super well, because I loathe chopping stuff finely, but it’s definitely pungent. I can’t remember if I’ve shared my trick for avoiding crying when you cut onions before, so here it is: take a big gulp of water and hold it in your mouth while you do it. It feels ridiculous, but it does mostly work. If you forget, and your eyes are already watering, it won’t help much, so what I do in that case once I’ve finished chopping is blow my nose, run the cold water, and then take a few sips. Turning the hood vent fan on helps, too.
The sunny weather had me in the mood for barbecue, but it’s still too cold out there, so I did the next best thing, evoking the flavours and side dishes in a more seasonally appropriate plate. In Isa Does It there’s a recipe for a warm potato salad made with grainy mustard which I love (it’s also good chilled, but nice for this time of year when it’s warm). I mix up what I eat with it— grilled asparagus or dry fried green beans, marinated tofu or tempeh, seitan or chicken thighs or sausage. This time I did a smoky maple-soy marinade for tofu, filled out with broth and garlic powder and tomato paste. It’s salty and a little sweet and captures some of the the smoky flavour you get from a grill, but it’s baked in the oven instead.
Using a high temperature (450°F) for the tofu gives it a lovely texture: crispy at the edges but still soft in the middle, and spooning marinade overtop of it a couple times when you flip it over makes sure it’s not bland in the slightest. I prefer firm here rather than extra firm; you need to be a bit more careful with it since it’ll fall apart more easily, but it won’t dry out as much in the oven. The other side I chose was just a quick red cabbage slaw with shredded carrot in a lime dressing, which balanced the salt of the other two things quite nicely.
Also this week, I did something I enjoy doing sometimes when I have a free couple of hours, which is baking while a familiar movie plays in the background (this time, it was The Bourne Supremacy). I made a tiny cake: a half-recipe of this Greek yogurt & jam cake, baked in a small loaf pan. I used some of my homemade peach jam for this, and unlike when I made it with the blueberry jam, most of it sank to the bottom, but it still got the point across, which was six pieces of jammy, spongey, lovely cake with golden brown edges, the perfect amount to serve us for just long enough that it doesn’t get a chance to get stale.
Thanks for reading— if you enjoyed this newsletter, please share it with someone new! I like providing this to you for free, but it does still involve time and effort, so donations I can use towards cookbooks or future treats are much appreciated. Lastly, if you’re the kind of person who can order and enjoy a whole plate, I’m happy for you, but I personally would benefit a lot from this type of arrangement.