A New Way To Love Chard

My cousin was working for a business mogul who dealt in broccoli–among other things­–when she tipped me off that the stems have more nutrients than the florets. And to think I’d snubbed my nose at whole-plant offerings at the school cafeteria! Though, in the end, my cousin’s broccoli boss turned out to be an oppressive jerk whose tip I've yet to validate, I did appreciate what he was driving at. When I became sophisticated enough, I took a break from broccoli for beet’s taller, brighter cousin: chard. I assumed it would be a bigger hassle and produce more waste than food, but I proved myself wrong.

Tips and facts

*There’s nothing Swiss about chard; I have no idea where that came from.

*To maintain freshness, wash soon after purchase.

*Store in refrigerator in a sealed plastic bag.

*You should wash and eat the entire plant. The stems are a bit like celery, with a twist. Note that the same cooking instructions apply to chard of any color.

Chard with Garlic and Olive Oil

• Thoroughly wash the chard.
• Pull or cut leaves from the stems.
• Finely chop the stems. Don’t mince.
• Saute the stems in olive oil and garlic, salt and pepper. They should be slightly tender, not mushy. Set aside.

• To cook the leaves, boil them past wilting for 3 to 4 minutes. 
• Drain thoroughly in strainer.
• Puree the leaves, adding a pinch of salt.
• Optional: add a splash of milk or cream. Surprisingly, almond milk works as well. And you can get away with a pinch of cinnamon or nutmeg.
• Sprinkle sauteed stems on top and eat.   

The beauty of this antioxidant-rich food is that it can be boiled, wilted, steamed, braised or microwaved. It goes well with sweet potatoes, with eggs, with rice and pasta, with baked fish, with cream or Parmesan cheese. It can be served as a side dish or hidden in your children’s lasagna. You can tell them it’s frozen spinach but they’ll catch on sooner or later.

Red chard! My lasagna recipe is coming soon.

Quinoa Crazy–When Our Hunger for Health Taxes South American Farmers

Sometime in the late 90's when my mother was still buying most of my groceries, a curious new carbohydrate snuck into the household palate. Quinoa ("keen-wa") was all the rage. Here in the U.S., it became a culinary mainstay at Buddhist retreats. The Skinny Bitches promoted it. The Quinoa Diet lauds it for its low glycemic content. Did I mention it's gluten-free? Move over brown rice. Hello round, slightly crispy miracle vegetable-grain, a relative of beets and chard, first cultivated by the Incas hundreds of years ago.

Vegetarians love it for its high protein content (14% to 18%) and hard-to-find amino acids. As a three-quarters vegetarian myself, I certainly support trying to get vitamins through food, rather than in pill form. But, quinoa can't help me here. It's not on my shelves right now.

After what I learned today, I'm glad I haven't been eating the stuff. Much of what's on supermarket shelves comes from Bolivia and Peru, countries whose farmers are on a hamster wheel of Western demand. It's a terrible irony: South American harvesters can't afford to eat something that used to be integral to their diets so they've turned to our fast food for sustenance. Enter one of the downfalls of free North-South trade. According to Alternet, in Lima, Peru, a chicken is cheaper than quinoa, which has tripled in price since 2006.

This food, which seems to flow freely in U.S. and European markets, isn't the only strain on South American agriculture. In Peru, the asparagus capital of the world, some farmers have abandoned their water hungry crop all together. Though I've read that a group of non-profits is devising water standards that will serve as fair trade measures, I haven't seen any related details.

Around the time I started eating quinoa, I began to hear the phrase, "Think Globally, Act Locally." Since American farmers are now hip to the crop–it grows in places like Colorado and Oregon–I put a call into my local Whole Foods to see if they carried a brand I'd feel comfortable eating. The clerk thought for sure he did, and put me on hold to examine the package of TruRoots organic quinoa. "It's from Livermore, California, but certified organic in Oregon," he said. That could work! I rushed to the Tru Roots website only to read that "TruRoots Organic Quinoa supports the livelihood of small family farms in the Andean plains." 

Hopefully, sometime in 2013, the Year of the Quinoa, I'll find a farmer's market where the grain is cheap and home grown. And as I sit down to dinner, I'll thank tillers everywhere.

Skip the Ham Hock, Split Pea

In my hometown–New Orleans–meat is a key ingredient in some of the tastiest dishes. So when I went 'pescatarian' at age thirteen, only to quit at twenty-one, I had to work hard to replace the flavor meat so readily provides.

The following split pea soup recipe uses nutritional yeast, also known as brewer's yeast.  It's high in protein, low and calories, and is loaded with B-complex vitamins. I usually find the yellow powder or flakes in the bulk bin at the health food store. The yeast supplement offers more of a cheesy or nutty flavor than a ham-infused one, but I find it does the trick. Here's the deal on gluten-free: if the yeast you use is a by-product of beer, it contains gluten. However, yeast made from sugar passes muster. Check with your local health food store.

Vegetarian Split Pea Soup

-makes 6 cups-

1 1/2 cups dried split peas

4 cups water

1 cup chopped onions

3/4 cup carrots

1 tsp. each: garlic powder, cumin, salt

1/2 tsp. black pepper

1 tbsp. nutritional yeast

1 tbsp. olive oil

*Wash peas thoroughly in cold water, discarding any foreign matter or discolored peas.

*Combine all ingredients in a large pot and bring to a boil. Reduce heat, cover, simmer for one hour or until peas and vegetables are soft. 

*Garnish with cilantro and sour cream if you'd like. I usually sprinkle on a little parmesan cheese and I always add a dash of Tonys Chachere's (pronounced "Tony Sacheries") Original Creole Seasoning. Available at supermarkets, and online along with 'Slap Ya Mama Cajun Seasoning.' Enjoy in peace. 

Recipe inspired by The Going Vegetarian Cookbook by David A. Gabbe (1997).