The Cleaner Plate Club

Vegan-y things and a beef recipe all in one post? Sure, why not? There’s room for everyone under this tent!

This is the part of the post for vegans, ex-vegans, and the folks who love them:

Vegan Twinkies! It’s no longer an Oxymoron! At last, the words “empty calories” and “vegan lifestyle” aren’t mutually exclusive! For the vegan in your life, you can order a custom-made vegan Twinkie, or other fauxstess treats, here. Yes! A vegan Twinkie! You can also learn more about the chef on her myspace site. It’s worth doing, if only to hear the fantastic, toe-tappin’ tune of “If I’d known you were coming, I’d have baked you a cake” that plays when you click over.

Even if you’re not a vegan, you might want to consider this option, because let me tell you something: I have proof that Twinkies are not real food. I tried to set one on fire once, back in college. We held a lighter to it for about 10-minutes. It fizzled and charred, but I’m telling you — the sucker did not burn. We also tried exploding one - I forget how, exactly, but someone had access to some form of explosives (ahh, college…). We expected pieces of Twinkies to scatter everywhere — cream filling to be dripping from every corner. Instead, it just broke into two equally-sized pieces with a heavy and highly unsatisfying thud. Other college students have performed similar experiments on Twinkies; their results probably won’t make you want to eat any (And? those same students even write haiku on the subject. I heart them).

The Vegan Question of the Day: Can anyone recommend a good starter vegan cookbook? Monique, who has contributed comments and recipes from time to time, is looking for a gift for her brother, and says there are 2 requirements:

1. understandable & easy for a non-cooker
2. good for a person with not much time of their hands

I was able to steer her toward Vegan Yum Yum, a terrific blog that makes even a non-vegan like myself want to incorporate a little more veganism into my life (look how fresh-faced Lolo is! Don’t her rosy cheeks want to make you give veganism a whirl?). She’s got a cookbook coming out soon — but it doesn’t seem to be out yet. Otherwise, I’ve got nothing. All of my vegetarian cookbooks seem to feature a hefty amount of cheese and yogurt. Anyone out there know of a good book for Monique and her bro?

This is that part where all vegans, or vegetarians, or non-red-meat-eating omnivores, should stop reading. (No, seriously. You’ll want to stop reading here).

Monique, also sent me a recipe for a great beef stew that can simmer in the Crockpot all day. If you’re part carnivore, this one is tasty and hearty and it will greet you warmly at the end of a long, cold day. Monique got it from this Crookpot cookbook, and it probably has a different name, but I call it Monique’s Best Beef Stew Evah. I like it, because it’s a great use of stew beef, which — when you’re breaking the bank regularly by buying non-feedlot, grass-fed meat — is the most affordable kind there is. I also like this recipe, because it’s goooood (don’t tsk tsk me, you vegans! You were supposed to stop reading by now!).

Note that the recipe I’m including below includes my own modifications:

1 lb stew beef
4 carrots or parsnips, chopped (I used a mix)
2 medium red potatoes, chopped
2 onions, halved and sliced
2 apples, cut and cored (I peeled, too)
1 stalk celery (I used a wrinkly old thing that had seen far better days)
2 TBSP flour, dissolved in a little beef broth (recipe calls for quick-cook tapioca)
1 cup apple cider
1 cup of beef broth (recipe calls for 1 cup water + two boullion cubes, but I kind of hate the idea of cubes)
1/4 (a quarter) tsp pepper
1 tsp fresh thyme (or a quarter tsp dried)

Directions: Brown the meat in a TBSP of oil. Throw the browned meat, and all other ingredients except fresh thyme into a Crockpot. Let simmer all day (I did low for about 8 hours, but my low setting always seems high). Add thyme at the end.

Really, the combination of apples and beef is surprisingly good, and there’s nuthin’ better than coming home to a pot o’ soup. Here’s what it looked like:

So my Thanksgiving: it was great and hectic. The low point: when I was peed upon in a totally child-unfriendly restaurant, and — damp and pee-stinking myself — stripped baby Charlotte down to her birthday suit in one of those fancy, bustling bathrooms where you have to tip someone for handing you a paper towel (“Hi,” she shouted, buck naked, to every horrified New York fashionista who breezed through the bathroom door. “Hi! Poop! Shasha Poop!”). On the upside, the restaurant had a roasted brussels sprout side that was very good.

The surprising high point: we went to the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Mind you, I have never before had a desire to attend the parade. I have never desired to stand on a crowded sidewalk, 8-people deep from the action, craning my neck to see the balloons that float by, and utterly missing all the street-level fun because I had not camped out on the street since 4am the way others did. No, that scenario has always been altogether unappealing.

This year, though, I was a Very Lucky Duckie. I have a generous, and well-connected, brother-in-law, and so Merrie and I got to flash a special pass and then move past the crowds, past the police gates and sit on the grandstands at Columbus Circle. We had a great view, and we sat, cups of cocoa in hand, watching bands and cheerleaders and clowns and — gasp! — stars from High School Musical (oh my gawd! There’s Sharpay!!!). I surprised myself by actually enjoying the parade. Commercialized? You bet. But I swear to you skeptics: it’s still plenty fun. Behind us sat a very heavy-set, very red-faced man in his 40s who was enjoying himself as if he were a child (“I love you, Barbie!” he called out as her Island Princess float rolled by). “I’ve always loved you!”). It was hilarious and festive and I waved to Barbie as if her mis-proportioned bust hadn’t been an object of my derision since I was old enough to say “Down with the Patriarchy!”

Then came the Clown: Yeah, I’m talkin’ about the Clown that’s associated with the most successful fast food marketing on earth.

Let me take a brief moment to tell you that I really don’t like Ronald McDonald. Have I mentioned that? I dislike him because he epitomizes marketing to children, which is persuasive, ubiquitous, and out of control. Horrifying fact: the average American child today is exposed to an estimated 40,000 television commercials a year — over 100 a day. Ronald’s right at the heart of that. He’s everywhere —in schools, online, on TV, in video games…he’s even popping up on supposedly commercial-free programming. And, yes, he has been spotted in hospitals, too.

A whopping 96% of American children recognize the guy (he’s second-most recognized, just behind Santa). Which might not be so bad, if somehow he didn’t manage to convince kids that food with McDonald’s imagery was actually better-tasting than other food.

Anyhow, I read Fast Food Nation right after Merrie was born, and I was horrified by the book’s facts and figures about how many kids recognize the clown, and at how young an age, and how many kids believe that Ronald McDonald is actually a credible source of nutrition information. I vowed right there and then to do battle with the clown, and to keep my kid from knowing who he was for as long as humanly possible. Living in a rural community without a McDonalds nearby helps. Not having commercial television helps. Mind you: it’s not like I think we’ll avoid it forever, and it’s not like I don’t know that she’ll discover McD’s…and love it. No doubt, someday she’ll ask to have a birthday party at McDonalds, the way I once did (and, for the record: yes, I had one there. And yes, I’ll let her). But I’m not letting him into my world if I can help it.

It’s not rational at this point — it’s entirely personal.

But suddenly, there we were in the grandstands, and there he was — looming so much larger than life, coming straight toward us.

Curse you, Ronnie! Curse you, scarlet-haired devil!

One of his fingers was sticking out, and at one point, he appeared to be pointing right at me, as if he were saying. “You cannot escape, woman. You CANNOT escape.”

It got windy right as he arrived in Columbus Circle, and he started tipping in the breeze, leaning over toward us…closer…then closer still. I had visions of the M&M balloon crash of 2005. With his finger pointing at me, I was like, “Damn. That fiendish clown is gonna’ attack. He’s out for blood! Mine!!!”

Here he is — see how he’s leaning away from his handlers, and pointing right at me?:

Then I saw the delighted look on my daughter’s face:

I realized that he had won. Apparently he realized it, too, because he was almost instantly righted by his balloon handlers, and he moved on by without incident.

But? As I was working on this post, Merrie looked over my shoulder and said, “Mommy, who’s that? Is that JoJo’s Circus?”

“Hmmm. Maybe,” I answered.

And I smiled. Mom: 1, Fiendish Clown: 0.

For now.

I know. It’s Thanksgiving week, and you’re all like, “Crap, I still don’t know what I’m cooking!” And then you’re thinking, “Hey! I wonder if Ali has some ideas about good recipes.”

No dice. I haven’t been thinking recipes, because I am taking the ultimate Thanksgiving Cop-Out vacation: this Thursday, we’ll be with family in New York, dining at a restaurant. A restaurant!

It’s blasphemy, you say!
It’s easy, I respond!
It’s lazy, you shout!
It’s family, I plea! What can I do?
You can do what the rest of us are doing, you shout! You can stay up late into the night brining the turkey! You can chop bread for stuffing! You can mash and sautee and boil and stuff! You can shudder as you hold giblets, wondering just what to do with these things and what in the hell are giblets, anyway????

Okay. You’re right. You’re right. Maybe next year. But in the meantime, I am pleased to steer you to the only place you need to go to prepare your entire Thanksgiving dinner this year. Epicurious, you say? Nope. Allrecipes? Nah. Food Network? Fuggeddaboudit. I’ve steered you toward her before, but the Pioneer Woman Cooks really does have a fantastic site. Good recipes, and she has fantastic (I mean Fan. Tastic.) photos that make it absolutely clear what you should be doing at every step in the cooking process. If you’re trying to eat locally or seasonally, it’s easy to adapt her recipes accordingly. Anyhow, you can find her Thanksgiving cooking guide here. She provides just seven recipes — squash, potatoes, sweet potatoes, greenbeans, stuffing, turkey, and gravy. But those recipes, plus one of the fabulous brussels sprouts recipes we recently discussed, plus a salad, is pretty much all you need. Oh, yeah: plus dessert. Start here to find your perfect pies.

Anyhow, even if you’re not cooking Thanksgiving dinner, you should go, if for no other reason than to drool over her stuffing photos, or to laugh out loud at what she does with squash. And her mashed potatoes? Let me just say that I have never seen a more multi-stepped, or more artery-clogging, or more delicious-looking recipe for mashed potatoes.

With all the time you’ll save looking at recipes, you might want to read this article by Marian Burros about turkeys, both commercial and heritage. It’s really interesting — the short story is “flavor sacrificed to meet commercial ends. Try a heritage breed for real flavor,” though Burros of course says it more eloquently. If you were lucky enough to get yourself a heritage turkey this year, you can read an account from Barbara at Tigers and Strawberries has some about her first time cooking one. Wanted a heritage turkey but didn’t get yourself one in time? I’m gonna’ do my darndest to remind you in time for next year. And you can still order one for your holiday dinner: start your search here.

I would not eat them were they steamed
I would not eat them were they creamed
I would not eat them with the soy
Nor would you so don’t be coy
I would not eat them were they baked
I would not eat them in a cake
I could not eat them, Ali dear
I could not eat them without fear

- commenter Vikki, on brussels sprouts

Vikki, you made me laugh out loud, but you didn’t stop me. Thanks to all of you, I’ve got a few more recommendations for making the sprouts, as well as reports from my first two attempts. Note: more recipes welcome — good recipes are always welcome here! — though for Vikki’s sake, I will soon take a break from brussels sprouts for a bit.

By far, the most common recommendation was roasting. I got lots and lots of recommendations for roasted brussels sprouts. Mamasutra kicked off the roasting suggestions:

Oven roasted brusselsprouts, that’s my suggestion. Haven’t done it in a while, couldn’t give you temp. or time advice, but I’m sure it’s google-able, and they’re good, much better than the boiled ones I grew up eating.

Greg (whose recipe for Mediterranean kale salad, by the way, will be posted soon, along with pictures of the process) agrees:

Roasting Brussels Sprouts is great! Try trimming them, letting them soak in salty lemon water for 10 or 15 minutes, and then coating them in oil (or melted butter if you feel decadent) before you pop them into a preheated pan in the oven.

Bananafana took a break from planning next year’s garden to tell me:

I trim the ends, take off yellow leaves, mix with olive oil and kosher salt, and put in the oven at 400 until they’re brown (with a little black) 30 to 45 minutes. this is the only way anyone in our house will eat them. make sure you get them good and brown!

And Courtney says:

I second the recommendation for roasting the brusselsprouts. With salt, pepper, a little olive oil, mayhap a slice of bacon if you’re feeling frisky. But the one thing that made brussels sprouts palatable for me was to finely slice them (before roasting). I never liked the feeling of an entire tiny cabbage in my mouth, but finely sliced gives them a lovely texture. A little more work, but it’s not prohibitive.

Rebeccah, my very-good-friend-who’s-too-far-away-while-her-hubby-is-on-sabbatical-and-yeah-I-know-it’s-a-great-opportunity-for-him-but-damn-we-miss-you, recommends a recipe for Chicken Sausages Roasted with Potatoes and Brussels Sprouts, from Epicurious. (we’re trying this one this weekend - will let you know).

Charlotte, who like me, tends to get tiny crushes on men who rock her food world, (but who, unlike me, can stomach tomato aspic) mixes it up with a sautee-then-roast strategy:

Put some chunky pieces of pancetta and cook in a cast iron skillet until crispy. Pull them out and toss in brusselsprouts that have been trimmed and cut in half. Saute for a few minutes, put the pancetta back in and put the whole thing in a hot oven — 425 or so, until the sprouts are all brown and toasty on the outside. (Or if you’re really feeling lazy, you can throw the pancetta chunks and halved sprouts in the skillet, put in the hot oven and stir occasionally until they’re all crispy and cooked through. Yum. (Because everything’s better with pork fat).

My own mama, ever the dissenter, says:

Don’t dismiss microwaved brussels sprouts. Yes, garlic oven roasted sprouts are yummy, but when you are in a hurry microwave till semi soft in covered dish with only a sprinkle of water. Then toss with olive oil and Spike. Tasty.

Irrelevant Aside #1: back in my vegetarian days in high school, I used to carry Spike seasoning in my purse, which was not a purse, really, but rather a grey, drab Swiss army-style shoulder bag, because I was that stylish. Anyhow, I actually haven’t had Spike for years, though Kalyn’s Kitchen suggests that this might be a mistake.

Joanna recommends a steam-then sautee strategy, with her oft-eaten recipe from Farmer John:

Steam halved brussels sprouts for 5 minutes. In saute pan, heat olive oil. Saute sprouts cut side down (with salt and pepper) for 3-4 minutes until they brown, then add bread crumbs. Cook another 2 minutes. Plate and grate fresh Parmigiano Reggiano over the top. I had them last night, and two nights ago, and a day last week.

And then I got this email from Wendy, which I have to say was a little like reading a foreign language:

Not sure if you are a fan of crawfish but I started adding brussels sprouts to our big boils. They are quite tasty so now when having them as a side I put them on the stove to boil with shrimp/crawfish boiling seasoning (I use Zataran’s Pro Boil but Tony Zacheries would work). After removing from water I add a little butter. This is only good if you are a fan of spicy foods though.

Reading that, I was like, huh? Zataran’s? Tony Zacheries? crawfish boiling season? Say what? Je ne parle pas le Zataran! These are not terms we’re familiar with up here in rural Vermont. Irrelevant Aside #2: the phrase “big boil” makes me think about that thing that Blair got on his neck when we lived in Africa — the thing everybody thought was a goiter, and that we wound up naming “Yapo,” after Yapo Boni Auguste, the chief of the first village we lived in, and the only man we thought would be able to cure it (this, after Yapo Boni Auguste miraculously cured Blair’s problem foot — the foot that modern medicine had utterly failed to fix — in a matter of minutes). Ah, yes. That was a big boil, and it was something to behold. But wait. That’s more information than you need. Moving on. Anyhow, Wendy’s area code, 713, was included with her email, so I looked it up: Houston. Then I did a little research and found out that in Southeast Texas, crawfish boils are a hugely popular thing — they are a kind of gulf-area backyard barbecue. And they’re simple: crawfish, potatoes, corn, and spice. And maybe brussels sprouts. I might try my own version up here, though I don’t think we can get crawfish in Southern Vermont - maybe a shrimp boil, then? Anyhow, thanks, Wendy, for expanding my horizons.

Jenn’s recommendation is the last one I’ll mention here, though it is the first that arrived in my box. She recommends a method from Heidi Swanson, whose cookbook, Super Natural Cooking, she says is “highly highly recommended for healthy recipes, all of which have turned out to be family pleasers” (not the first time I’ve heard this; it’s now on my wish list).

Take fresh, relatively small brussels sprouts. Peel out any unsightly outer leaves. Cut in half lengthwise.

Heat some olive oil (not too much - enough to cover the bottom of the pan) on medium heat. Put the brussels sprouts in flat side down. Let cook 5-8 minutes, until lightly browned on the bottom. Remove once as browned as you prefer (I like them very brown, although Heidi recommends them only lightly browned). She also recommends paramesean cheese, which I didn’t bother with. They were excellent without cheese (I don’t even recognize me as I say this - cheese, like salt, goes with almost everything).

Anyway, this was the first time that we’d tried Brussels sprouts (we had a CSA, and discovered many vegetables that were new to us. Still working on the celeriac…) and we’ve had them this way at least a 1/2 dozen times. A complete (but welcome) surprise. We didn’t think that we’d like turnips, either…

Jenn’s was the first one I tried, because (a) it arrived first, and (b) because it had only three core ingredients, all of which I had on hand: olive oil, salt, and brussels sprouts. Look, I sliced and sauteed:

And when they were brown, like this, I ate them:

That’s when I realized: getting the sprouts brown is the trick. You don’t want to overcook them, as then they release sulphur, and become icky-smelling. But browning? It does something really yummy. That, I now believe, is the key. Blair and I both ate these (”yeah, these aren’t too bad,” he said, which believe me is a huge improvement over seeing him scrape uneaten vegetables into the bin). The kids didn’t try them, because we chose to eat in peace, and gobbled them up as the wee ones slept.

By the way, my second attempt was with Orangette’s recipe. I chose hers, because her blog, and her State of the Sprout post, were just so beautiful. It’s kind of the same reason people run out to get Jennifer Lopez hairstyles — if I just do this one thing, I’ll look like her, too! — well, Orangette is kind of my J.Lo. Her sprouts were pretty good, actually (subtle, but tasty, particularly the next day, after the flavors had some time to set), but unfortunately they didn’t make my ass blog look like hers.

Irrelevant Aside #3: am I the only one who thinks that the sprouts scattered a little bit in the shape of the map of the United States?

And check it out: as I was doing a little recipe on brussels sprouts, I discovered that I’m not the only one who needed help. Looks like Bonnie, of the fabulous Ethicurean, went through the same process a little under a year ago (right before I discovered her). She asked for help, and she learned to like the little buggers.

So, Vikki, you never know:

You do not like them, so you boast
But you may like them in a roast
You may like them in a boil,
or sauteed with salt and olive oil!
You may like them in a hash
With lemon juice (though just a splash!)
You just might like them slightly browned.
They’re not too bad, as Bonnie found!

You do not like them.
So you say.
Try them! Try them!
And you may.
Try them and you may, I say.

Have I told you lately that I love you?
Have I told you there’s no one above you?

Darn it! Now you’re going to be humming that song all day! And you hate that song, too! I’m sorry! I am! Because it gets on your last nerve, the schmaltzy ballad! What can I tell you? I thought about putting down the lyrics to Do Ya’ Think I’m Sexy, but the effect just wasn’t the same!

I’m sorry, I’m genuinely sorry for putting the mawkish side of Rod-the-Mod in your head. Just start humming “For the Longest Time,” and it’ll push Rod right out of your brain, I promise! But seriously. I do love you. Thanks to you guys, brussels sprouts might actually have a place in my home again.

To let you know how dire the situation had become: Blair and I went out to dinner recently, and one of the main dishes came with a side of brussels sprouts. When I said I was tempted to try them, Blair said, “you should, because I’ll bet we can actually stomach these brussels sprouts.”

But I ask you for brussels sprouts, and boy do you come through! Some of you were preparing to move across the country when you sent yours. Others were grieving beloved pets. Others were involved with hockey ceremonies. Others were working (Tsk tsk! No, wait, I mean good for you! Brussels sprouts are more fun than spreadsheets and value propositions and positioning statements any day!).

Here, for your sproutin’ pleasure, are the first ten recipes you’ve sent my way so far. The first ten, people! In no particular order! There are even more to come! Now do you see why I’m humming that tune? Now?!!

Sissy Ben says that her approach makes her family eat them “like candy.” I am charmed how completely non-specific parts of her recipe are. The thing is, being a vague sort of cook myself, I can totally follow her — especially at those non-specific parts. (if Sissy Ben and I ever cooked together, I’d be like, “Hey! Pass the thingy!” and she’d be like “Okay, but how much of that other stuff should I add?” And I’d be all “You know, enough until it kind of does that thing!,” and she’d be all, “Great! I totally do know!” We’d have fun. I know it.). Here’s what she recommends:

First I prepare them by cutting off the bottom and peeling off the outer leaves. Then I slice them in half. I heat up a cast iron skillet to about medium high and melt some butter. Just before the butter burns, I throw in the sprouts for a nice sizzle. Nearby I keep a cup of water, a bottle of soy sauce (tamari would be best)and a bottle of nice balsamic vinegar. When the liquid is gone from my pan, I pour in some water so that I get a good steam coming out of it. I stir regularly but not constantly, so that the sprouts get a little brown on the hot pan. Next I pour in some tamari… not quite as much as I did water but a reasonable amount (this is really helping, isn’t it?) and let that steam and then reduce. I wait for the liquid to go away (love my terminology, too, don’t you?) and pour in some more water. Reduce again, then throw in some balsamic vinegar. It’s easy to put too much vinegar, but that doesn’t really make it much better. I’d probably say that of the course of this process you want 3/4 water, 3/8 tamari and 1/8 vinegar. Once the sprouts are brown with the tamari and vinegar, I just use water to cook them the rest of the way. The pan needs to be pretty hot the whole time, but don’t scorch the sprouts. Sometimes I throw in another pat or two of butter because let’s face it, butter is De. Lish.

I think this process probably has a name. I always call them braised but really I have no idea what that means. The sauce kind of caramelizes like onions but without the caramelly onion flavor.”

Jo notes that she never liked brussels srpouts until she ate them this way (and now she can’t get enough):

Combine about 2 pounds (can be scaled either way) of halved and cleaned Brussels sprouts in a bowl with 1 1/2 t of olive oil, salt and pepper. Spread in a single layer on a baking sheet (I use my silpat too), bake at 425 for about 25 minutes, stirring every 10 minutes or so. When browned and crisp tender, enjoy

Nicole — who only recently discovered the blogosphere (welcome, Nicole! We are truly so glad to have you join this great big conversation that never ends!), reminds me not to be afraid of salt.

I have discovered that many a great recipe comes down to a good use of salt (start adding a little more than you usually would and you will see what I mean). Anyhow, salt pepper and olive oil the b. sprouts then cut them in half if they are huge. Then roast them with sliced onions (so you end up with caramelized onions) and balsamic vinegar (the best quality you can afford but don’t go too crazy - there is plenty of good stuff out there without having to spend a fortune). They will look and smell fancy and you won’t have to slave.

Nicole actually got me thinking all about salt, actually, and I have a few things to say on the subject. But not yet. Because we’re still talkin’ brussels sprouts.

Karen, aka Omnimom, reminded me of what a friend recently said: “you can make anything taste good with olive oil, garlic, and lemon.”

Our favorite thing to do with Brussels sprouts: Clean and trim sprouts; heat olive oil in pan with minced garlic to taste. Add sprouts to pan, squeeze 1/2 fresh lemon over sprouts. Sauté until sprouts are bright green, outer leaves wilty & browned, inner part soft but still crisp (15 minutes or so). Just before they’re done, squeeze the other half of the lemon over, stir until liquid has evaporated, serve.

We also like to roast them with a little fresh Parmesan sprinkled over.

Kirsten Rose (who is fresh-faced and wholesome looking —very much the kind of person you can trust when it comes to food) has a similar technique, but with red pepper instead of lemon:

I cut the sprouts into fourths or eighths - nice bite-sized pieces, basically. Then I sautee them in olive oil with a pinch of red pepper flakes and a whooooole lotta minced garlic. Cook them until they look done - I think they’re yummy when some of the edges or sides start to darken a bit.

Lisa Octigon sent me a recipe that’s actually from one of my favorite cookbooks: Simply in Season. She adds butter beans and turns it into a main dish, which is, I think, brilliant — my kids eat beans, and it might turn this into a one-dish dinner (okay, with rice it’s two dishes, but still) that is hearty and healthful and that the Wee Ones will eat:

Brussels Sprouts with Leeks:

1 pound brusselssprouts (sliced in thirds)
2 leeks (thinly sliced)
in a large frypan saute in 1 tablespoon olive oil and 1 tablespoon
butter

1/4 cup water
2 tablespoons mixed fresh herbs such as oregano, thyme, rosemary,
basil (chopped, or 2 teaspoons dried)
Add and cook until sprouts are tender, about 10 minutes. Salt and
pepper to taste. Serve plain or on top of rice.

Michelle sent me a link to what might be the most beautiful food blog I’ve visited to date. She swears that this recipe is “five minutes, foolproof. You know it works when a friend drops by at dinner time and you say “here, you have to try the brussels sprouts!” If you don’t have a food processor with a slicing disk, you might be talkin’ 15 minutes. But not more. She swears.

Fairly Odd Mother made this one for for last year’s Christmas dinner and it wasn’t too hard or too fussy. Best, she says, it can be served at room temperature, so you don’t have to sweat the timing too much.

Kate Gilbert, between working on her 39 unfinished knitting projects (that’s right: she has not one, not two, not five, but thirty-nine projects) sent me a link to another great food blog: Endless Banquet, which includes an Alice Waters recipe for brussels sprouts and pasta, as well as a recipe for brussels sprouts with kim chee (who’da thunk it?).

Heather, who, by the way, would like your help in deciding if she’s allergic to her own sweat, delurked to say:

I’ve sauteed them with garlic and roasted them (pretty much my guideline for veggie roasting is 400 degrees with olive oil, salt, and pepper for 17 minutes…but that’s my oven). I made roast chicken some weeks ago and trimmed and quartered them and put them under the chicken along with other roasting vegetables (carrots, onions, celery, mushrooms) olive oil, salt, pepper, thyme, and minced garlic. I hit the veggies with a bit of balsamic vinegar when I pulled them out.

“What are these?” my daughter asked suspiciously.

“Brusselsprouts.”

“I don’t…”

“Don’t tell me you don’t like them. You’ve never had them.”

She ate them without further comment.

When my husband arrived home for dinner, she announced. “Daddy, the brusselsprouts are super yummy.”

That’s the first of them! The first ten! I hope YOU all like brussels sprouts! because even more recipes are on your way!

Here are a few things from my jumbled, chaotic brain that you might find useful:

1. In the Yay for Me! category:
I was delighted to receive this comment, from Vikki, today:

I walked into the kitchen the other night and Luisa was scraping a piece of ginger with a spoon. I gave her a puzzled look and she told me she learned the trick at the Cleaner Plate Club. She then exclaimed that it really does work! Thanks for making our ginger-lovin’ lives easier.

I highlight it here not so much to toot my own horn (oh, who am I kidding? Toot! Toot!), but because I really want you to start using this highly-unlikely-but-highly-effective trick when you use fresh ginger. As Luisa says, it works!

2. In the Depressing-but-Unsurprising Category: Another ground beef recall! A million pounds! E. coli! When even a USDA study indicates that 89% of ground beef includes traces of this truly horrifying and deadly strain, it’s enough to make people swear off ground beef altogether. Want to? Gourmetsleuth gives tips for making your own ground beef using a food processor. And Chef Extraordinare Greg Roach (his blog is more about local issues, but trust me - the man can cook) told me in a previous post that you can request “house ground” beef at your grocery store — in other words, beef that’s ground onsite, as opposed to in some other mysterious-and-probably filthy place.

In the wake of this recall, even our current President — yes, THAT guy! (love him or hate him, no one can deny that the man is regulatory minimalist) — is calling for greater regulation of the food industry. Or, we could apply the strategy that the brilliant Jen Maiser suggests on a recent comment in the Ethicurean: “You could just put a constant footer on all posts that says “Beef recall today by Some Large Company USA”.

3. In the Great News category: a little extra Junk in your Trunk won’t kill you — and the extra padding may even help you survive some illnesses like emphysema, pneumonia, injuries and various infections. The new study leaves some confused, some skeptical. Me? I just say “Phew!” All of those low-calorie-diets-mean-longer-lives studies were getting depressing.

4. In the Help Me, Please category: Brussels sprout recipes? Anyone? Anyone? I have tried, and failed, a few recipes recently. The best-tasting thing I’ve done so far is to microwave them with a little water, plastic wrap over the bowl. But there must be better ways than that. Email cleanerplateclub@gmail.com, if you’ve got any foolproof brussels sprouts recipes. I’m getting a little frustrated over in my kitchen.

5. Also in the kitchen failure category: anyone see this article on delicious raw kale salads? I was so hopeful. But mine turned out depressing and chewy and nobody but me was willing to eat it, and even I couldn’t do more than a few bites. On the other hand, the aforementioned Greg recently made an unbelievable Mediterranean kale salad that was hot-diggity-dog good. Kale with mint and feta and kalamata olives and garlic and olive oil…Merrie, my six year old, loved it! I’ll repeat that: my six-year old loved it!

And maybe if we ask Greg really, really nicely, he’ll share his recipe, as well as his tips for getting kale tender and bright green. Greg?

Just a quick post to point you toward a smart editorial in today’s Times, Farm Belt Follies. It’s a quick read; it briefly explains the trouble with the existing Farm Bill (noting that half the subsidy payments go to fewer 10% of the farms, most of them concentrated in eight states and most of them producers of row crops like corn and soy). Then it highlights a different kind of bill being introduced in the Senate by Dick Lugar (Republican from Indiana) and Frank Lautenberg (Democrat from NJ).

The Lugar-Lautenberg bill would replace existing subsidies with genuine crop insurance that would cover all farms, no matter what they produce. It would save $20 billion a year, and would funnel the savings into food stamp programs and preservation. They don’t say this specifically, but it could potentially shift the balance of “affordable” food from low-nutrition corn based products (confession: as I type, my toddler is noshing on Tings, basically an overpriced version of corn-based Cheetos) to more diverse, higher nutrition crops.

As the editorial notes, it’s a long shot. That said, even if the Farm Bill doesn’t change substantially this time around, I still think it could be a watershed year. Earlier this year, I had the chance to see Dan Imhoff, author of Food Fight: A Citizen’s Guide to the Farm Bill, speak. He was pessimistic about this year, but optimistic about the future. As he put it, this is the literacy year. For decades, the Farm Bill has passed with barely a nod from the general public. Nobody understood it, nobody cared.

This year? Not so. We can credit Michael Pollan, we can credit the blogosphere, we can credit some general zeitgeist — right issue, right time. Whatever the cause, people care now. They’re paying attention, and politicians know it. Will it change this year? Maybe not — we’ve got a lot of inertia to overcome. But the bill also won’t be debated in the dark anymore.

Speaking personally, I’ll say that I myself never thought about it — I perhaps never gave the Farm Bill a second thought — before this year. (How about you?) I’m paying attention now, though, and I’ll be paying attention in the future, and I’m guessing you will, too.

So. Rock on, Dick Luger! Kick some ass, Frank Lautenberg! Get on out there and fight. We’ll be watching. We’ll be rooting for you.

Now, and in the future.

Okay, I lied a little in that previous post. Not about the big stuff — I never have, actually, given out raisins at Halloween, and I still wouldn’t. But those who know me are aware that these days, we’re not giving out any candy at all; we’re remote enough that we now get zero trick-or-treaters.

But my Halloween philosophy when it comes to kids is basically this: Go, enjoy. I will not say a word, even as you pour your 23rd pack of M&Ms of the night into your mouth. Halloween comes but once a year. Make the most of it, Kid.

Getting back to the issue at hand: real food…here’s a one-dish wonder that’s as colorful as they come. Not to mention, it’s got two of the ten-best foods that WebMD says you aren’t eating. Add some shredded beets, and you’ll have a trifecta.

I’m calling this the Colorful, Asian-Inspired One-Dish Wonder Whose Directions Are More About the General Idea Than About Precision.

Ingredients:-

3/4 pound salmon (or more! or use chicken! whatever!)

1 bunch scallions, chopped

tiny head of red cabbage (maybe about half a medium size head?)

tiny head of green cabbage (same)

bunch of red-stemmed swiss chard, freshly rinsed

fresh chopped ginger (oh, say, about a tablespoon when chopped, maybe a good inch or so of root, if you like it spicy)

fresh minced garlic (oh, say 2-3 cloves)

Third of cup soy sauce

Splash-or-two of rice vinegar or cider vinegar

Same-sized splash-or-two dark sesame oil

Salt and pepper to taste

A touch of sugar might be nice, though I confess I didn’t add any.

Directions: Preheat oven to 350. Stir together soy sauce, rice wine, sesame oil in a bowl. Add chopped ginger and garlic. Slice cabbage and chard into thin strips. Place vegetables and chopped scallions in roasting pan, and cover with about three-quarters (roughly! nothing’s precise in this one! There’s no wrong way!) soy-ginger liquid. Place your salmon (or chicken, or whatever!) on top of the vegetables. Pour remaining soy-ginger mixture on top of fish. Place foil over the whole thing, and roast in the pan until the fish is cooked through, which hopefully coincides with when the veggies are tender — it did in my case —about a half hour in my oven. Stir the veggies once or twice, just to make sure the top’s not getting to hard. Scatter fresh cilantro on top of fish before serving.

The great thing about this one is that you can put this in the oven, throw some rice in the pot, then go upstairs to do really fabulous things with your time as you wait for your dinner to cook. In my case, I changed a dirty diaper, and copied down a Spooky Halloween poem that Merrie dictated to me (oh, you mean you do actual fabulous things? Like drink champagne in the hot tub? Get a foot massage from Giorgio, your strong-fingered, loincloth-wearing bunkmate? Even better. When do I get to come over?).

Really, the dish is tasty, especially considering how how simple it is — Blair ate his veggies, Merrie ate heaps of fish (and I like to think some of the good stuff from the veggies seeped into the fish…who knows). And best of all, it is pretty. It doesn’t really translate in the photo, but in real life, you’ll have dark greens and bright greens and pale greens and purples and reds and the orange of the fish…

I just kept looking at it, thinking, “wow. Just look at that color.”

And, if it’s true that for maximum health, my plate is supposed to resemble a box of crayolas (avoiding, perhaps, the colors “beaver,” “manatee,” or “mauvalous”, of course), then hooray for us!

One side of note: somewhere recently, I noted one blogger’s tip for peeling ginger (can’t remember who told me: if you’re out there, please claim credit) — scraping a spoon along the peel. Well, I tried that, and it came right off. I mean, it was a beautiful, beautiful technique. Ginger is officially no longer in the category of “Tastes Great, But is a Pain to Prepare.”

Next up: a beef stew that’s mighty yummy, a philosophical question, and yet another question that I’m considering posing, even though it will involve links to a site so disturbing that might make you swear off the internet forever (not that kind of site, people. This is a food blog. Jeesh.). Stay tuned.

This is just to say

that I have never

not once

given out raisins for Halloween

Forgive me

they are so dry

and so disappointing

to those tiny

hopeful

trick-or-treaters

(phew. It turns out I’m not the only one).