Seasonal Ontario Food

 

As threatened, I got out there and thinned the rutabagas. The result was enough "turnip" greens to make 2 packets of frozen greens and a dish to be eaten at once. This was the dish. Turnip - rutabaga - greens are astringent enough that I think them best with something to balance them out; both the mild and creamy beans and the rich and smoky bacon being classic choices for doing that.

I did not add the vinegar; I enjoyed the rather sweet and mellow vibe of the stew without it, but if you feel the flavours are a bit flat otherwise, put it in. Likewise, I considered putting in some hot chile flakes but that was really not my prevailing mood. You could add a few, or do as I did and simply pass some hot sauce so that it can be spiced to taste at the table.

This is a fairly substantial dish, and we ate it by itself - some bread and butter would be good with it, or toast. Hot stews don't seem very summery, but this was one that goes together quickly enough that the kitchen shouldn't be too over-heated. Of course, I cooked the beans in the Instant Pot which helps keep it down. A tin would be about the right amount of beans and would achieve the same results with even less effort.

2 servings
30 minutes, not including cooking the beans


2 cups cooked white beans
extra bean cooking liquid, ham broth, or chicken broth
225 grams (1/2 pound) bacon
1 medium onion, with its greens if possible
300 grams (10 ounces) turnip OR rutabaga greens
salt & freshly ground black pepper to taste
1/2 to 1 teaspoon sweet smoked Spanish paprika
2 teaspoons vinegar (optional)

The beans should have their cooking liquid; otherwise you may need to supplement it with some ham or chicken broth.

Cut the bacon into pieces a little narrower than they are high, and put them in a large, heavy bottomed pot or skillet. Don't start cooking them, though, until the vegetables are more or less ready to go.

Trim and peel the onion, and chop it. Chop the green onion top too, if it is there and in good condition, but set the green tops aside separately.

Wash the turnip greens well in cold salted water; it they can soak a bit so much the better. Then strip the leaves from the stems, discarding the stems and any badly damaged or yellowed leaves. Chop the remaining leaves coarsely.

Begin cooking the bacon over medium heat. Once it is about half-cooked, assess the amount of fat being rendered and drain off some if it looks like there is too much. A certain amount is good though, to cook and flavour the remaining ingredients.

Add the onion and cook with the bacon until soft and translucent, stirring occasionally. Add the chopped green onion tops and seasonings - the amount of salt to depend very much on how much is in the bacon, and perhaps also the beans and broth (if being used). Once they are well combined, add the beans with the cooking liquid. Simmer for a few minutes until hot through, and add a little more broth if required to give the mixture a stewy but not too liquid texture.

Add the drained chopped greens, mixing them in until well wilted down. Continue simmering the mixture until the greens are done to your liking; likely somewhere between 5 and 10 minutes. Again, a little more stock may be added if needed.

This is a rather sweet and mellow dish; you could sharpen it up with a dash of vinegar if you like. Once it goes in, let the strong scent of vinegar cook off before you serve it.




Last year at this time I made Herby Feta, Quinoa, & Snow Pea Salad.

There isn't too much to say about this; it's a winter vegetable purée soup, with some sweet and slightly zingy flavours and a lovely colour. (And brrr, it seems to be a winter week.)

At two servings, it will be a big bowl of soup to go with salad or bread and cheese; four servings would be fairly small portions as a starter to a meal.

Anise seed is an under-used spice, I think. I keep meaning to use it more often. This is a start.

This was quite a thick soup; you might want to add a bit more broth to make it soupier.

2 to 4 servings
1 hour - 30 minutes prep time


2 cups diced peeled rutabaga
4 cups unsalted chicken OR vegetable broth
1 bay leaf
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 medium carrot
2 large apples
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/2 teaspoon anise seed, ground
1 teaspoon ground ginger
the juice of 1/2 small lemon
1 tablespoon sherry
1/3 cup light cream

Peel and dice the rutabaga, and put it in a soup pot with the broth and bay leaf and salt. Bring to a boil and boil steadily for 40 minutes, until tender. As soon as it is in, peel the carrot and cut it into dice. Add it to the pot of rutabaga to cook along with it.

When the rutabaga and carrots have about 15 minutes left to cook, peel, core, and slice the apples. Heat the butter in a medium-sized skillet over medium heat. Cook the apples gently until quite soft and slightly browned. A few minutes before they are done, sprinkle them with the ground anise seed and ginger. Mix in well.

Transfer the cooked carrots and rutabaga to a blender or food processor. Add the apples and process until smooth. Return the soup to the pot, add the lemon juice, sherry, and cream and re-heat just up to the point of being steaming hot, but do not allow it to boil. Serve at once.




Last year at this time I made Chick Pea Choux Pastry. 

Clapshot is a traditional dish from the Orkney Islands of Scotland, and versions of it abound in Ontario too now. Usually Clapshot is made with boiled and mashed potatoes, rutabaga, and carrots, and I love it that way, but it occurred to me to take the same ingredients and roast them instead. Yes! Very good. And since I let the vegetables cool overnight before roasting them, I figure much better for the blood sugar.

4 servings
1 hour 45 minutes - 20 minutes prep time


225 grams (1/2 pound) rutabaga
225 grams (1/2 pound) carrots
450 grams (1 pound) potatoes
2 to 3 tablespoons mild vegetable oil
salt & freshly ground black pepper to taste
freshly grated nutmeg to taste

Peel the rutabaga and cut it into fairly small dice. Peel and trim the carrots and cut them into similar dice. You can peel and cut the potatoes into just slightly larger dice now, or wait until after they have been cooked.

Put the rutabaga and carrots into a pot of water to cover. Add the potatoes now (they still should be covered with water) if they are whole or in larger chunks. (You should cut them into approximately 1 x 2" chunks if they are large; leave them if that is close to their natural size.)

Bring the vegetables to a boil and boil for 10 minutes. If you have cut the potatoes into dice already, don't add them until the others have cooked for 5 minutes.

Drain the partially cooked vegetables well. You can let them cool completely or finish cooking them now. If the potatoes are still in large pieces, they should be cut into dice slightly larger than the others.

Preheat the oven to 375°. Toss the vegetables with the oil in a 9" x 13" or similar shallow roasting (lasagne) pan. Season with the salt, pepper, and nutmeg and toss again. They should be just lightly coated in oil.

Roast at 375°F for 1 hour to 1 hour and 20 minutes, until the vegetables are cooked and looking a little browned around the edges. Serve at once.




Last year at this time I made Claypot Chicken - in the Romertopf. 

I have now made these with both spelt and barley flour, and they both work well so feel free to use whichever you prefer. The spelt flour will certainly be easier to find. Our impression is that the spelt ones had a stronger and more robust flavour than the barley ones did, so that may be a factor in your decision as well. I found the texture of the dough when using barley flour improved with sitting for 10 minutes before being formed, so you should allow for that if you go that route. You can see one of the barley flour gnocchi sitting in the middle of the plate (paler and slightly grooved). It was a pretty subtle distinction.

This is a nice variation on the theme of gnocchi, but I found the flavour of the rutabaga less pronounced than I expected. You may or may not consider that a good thing. 

72 (6 dozen pieces); 4 to 8 servings
1 hour to boil and mash the rutabaga
20 minutes to make and cook the gnocchi


2 cups mashed cooked rutabaga
about 2 1/2 cups whole spelt OR barley flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
a few gratings of nutmeg
1 large egg
1/2 cup potato starch OR more flour as used

Peel the rutabaga and cut it into cubes. You will need a scant 4 cups of cubes to achieve 2 cups of mashed cooked rutabaga. Put the cubes into a pot and cover them generously with water. Bring them to a boil and boil them for 40 to 45 minutes, until tender. Drain them very well and mash thoroughly. Let them cool for a few minutes (or completely) before proceeding.

Put a large pot of salted water on to boil to cook the gnocchi - not as much salt as for cooking pasta, but a sprinkle. If you are using barley flour to make these, however, hold off until the dough has been mixed and has sat for 10 minutes.

Measure 2 cups of flour and add it to the mashed rutabaga (back in the pot, or in a mixing bowl). Add the salt and nutmeg, and mix well. Break in the egg, whisk it up, then mix it in thoroughly. At this point, add a little more flour, mixing well between each addition, until you have a sticky but cohesive dough. I added about another 1/2 cup in total to achieve this.

Divide the dough into 4 or 6 even parts, and roll each part into a long, even roll about 1" in diameter. Cut each roll into 16 or 12 even pieces, roll each piece into a flattish rectangle and put them on a plate on which the potato starch or remaining flour has been sprinkled. Shake to coat them, then shake off any excess starch or flour.

When the water boils and the gnocchi are made, add them to the pot. Boil until they all are floating high in the water; unless you have made them much larger than I did, that will be about 5 minutes at most. Skim them out or drain them, and dress them with the sauce of your choice. Serve at once.




Last year at this time I made Scottish Oatcakes. 

Ontario leeks seem to be available for much longer than they used to be, right through the winter if we are lucky. I also seem to be doing a series of vegetable dishes consisting of a changing array of vegetables cooked with leeks and butter. Now I'm doing rutabaga, and like almost everything else it goes beautifully with leeks and butter. How could it not? And then I upped the ante and added cream. Wow! Yes, this is very rich and commensurately delicious with it.

I'm proud to say I grew both the rutabaga and the leeks that went into this dish.

4 servings
1 hour - 20 minutes prep time


4 cups rutabaga, peeled and grated
2 cups (2 medium leeks) finely chopped leeks
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 cups unsalted chicken OR vegetable stock
1/4 teaspoon salt
freshly ground black pepper to taste
freshly grated nutmeg to taste
3/4 cup 10% cream
1 teaspoon arrowroot OR cornstarch

Peel and grate the rutabaga. Wash, trim, and finely chop the leeks.

Heat the butter in a large heavy-bottomed soup pot over medium heat. Add the rutabaga and mix in well. As it begins to wilt down, mix in the stock. Cover and let simmer for 25 to 30 minutes. Stir frequently. Add some water if the stock looks like boiling off - the liquid can and should be getting fairly low by the end, but don't let it disappear.

Season with the salt, pepper, and nutmeg. 

Add the leeks, and continue simmering for another 10 to 15 minutes, stirring regularly and watching the level of the liquid. By the time they are tender, the liquid should be about gone. Mix the starch into the cream and add them to the pot. Stir in well. Reduce the heat to a very slow simmer and let cook for another 5 to 7 minutes, until the cream has thickened and coated the vegetables. Serve at once.




Last year at this time, apparently, a new obsession was born as I made Spaetzle - Quick Austrian Egg Noodles (Dumplings).

Usually this is made with radishes, of the long white variety. Winter radishes, as they are sometimes called, and when we grow them they do indeed do best planted in mid to late summer and harvested just before frost, when they will then keep in the cold room for a month or two.

Unfortunately, we didn't grow any this year and although they should theoretically be available around now, if they are it isn't in this little hotbed of completely non-Asian food. Turnips, though, are very similar and replace them quite well. I suspect they might have taken a little longer to cook than radishes would have, so if you do manage to use radishes, start checking them a bit earlier on in the cooking process.

This is a tasty and complete dish - you may want to serve it with some rice - but it does lack in colour. A little chopped parsley, cilantro, or green onion, if you have any of those, sprinkled over the top, will perk it up considerably.

2 to 4 servings
1 hour 15 minutes - 30 minutes prep time


Start the Dish:
250 grams (1/2 pound) fresh pork belly
500 grams (1 pound) white turnips
1 tablespoon finely minced or grated fresh ginger
4 to 6 cloves of garlic

Cut the pork belly into bite-sized chunks. Put them in a large skillet or heavy-bottomed soup pot, and cook them over medium heat quite gently for about 30 minutes. Stir occasionally.

Meanwhile, peel and cut the turnips into bite-sized pieces. Peel and grate or mince the garlic and ginger.

Make the Sauce & Finish the Dish:
2 tablespoons rice vinegar
2 tablespoons soy sauce
2 tablespoons sherry
1 teaspoon 5-spice powder
1 to 2 teaspoon chile-garlic sauce
1/2 to 3/4 cup water

Mix the sauce ingredients together in a small bowl.

When the meat has cooked for about 20 minutes, long enough to have rendered a fair amount of fat, lift the meat out of the pan with a slotted spoon. Drain off most of the fat, leaving just enough to keep the turnips from sticking, when added. Return the meat to the pan, and add the ginger and garlic. Cook for several minutes, stirring them into the meat until well distributed and fragrant.

Add the turnips and the sauce, with the smaller amount of water. Mix in well. Cover the pan and simmer gently for about 20 minutes more. Stir every 5 minutes or so. If the sauce evaporates before the end of the cooking time, add a little more water, but the sauce should be reduced to thicken and coat the pork and turnips just around the end of the cooking time.

Serve with steamed rice.





Last year at this time I made Baked Apples Stuffed with Mincemeat. 

This cheerfully orange soup is basically a thick vegetable purée with seasonings. In other words, it's easy, healthy, substantial, and delicious. Just the thing for what looks like being an old-fashioned winter, and a good choice to balance out some of the richer fare floating around at this time of year.

4 to 6 servings
1 hour 30 minutes prep time



2 cups peeled, diced rutabaga
2 cups peeled, diced carrots
1/4 cup unsalted butter
1 bay leaf
2 medium-large leeks (4 cups when chopped)
1 teaspoon salt
freshly ground black pepper to taste
1/4 teaspoon dried rosemary leaves
1/2 teaspoon rubbed sage
2 tablespoons barley flour, toasted
4 cups chicken OR vegetable stock, or a little more
1/4 cup apple cider vinegar
a dollop of sour cream to serve, optional

Peel and dice the rutabaga. Peel and dice the carrots. Melt the butter over medium heat in a heavy-bottomed soup pot. Add the rutabaga and carrots, and mix in to coat them in the butter. Let them cook slowly, stirring regularly, for about 45 minutes.

Meanwhile clean, trim, and slice the leeks. Rinse them again and drain well. Add them to the vegetables in the pot as soon as they are ready - you want them to cook in the butter for about half an hour. Season with the salt, pepper, rosemary, and sage.

Toast the barley flour in a small skillet over medium heat, stirring regularly. When it has toasted to the shade of a brown paper bag, turn it out onto a plate to cool. When the vegetables have cooked for 45 minutes, sprinkle it over them and stir it in until it disappears. Pour over the chicken stock and vinegar. Simmer for a further 30 to 40 minutes until the rutabaga is tender, stirring occasionally. Keep the pot covered and try not to let it evaporate too much, but if it does add a bit more stock.

Purée the soup (after removing the bay leaf) until smooth. Reheat to serve. Be careful! The thick soup is prone to splattering.  A dollop of sour cream makes a nice garnish, if you are so inclined.





Last year at this time I made Fondant Potatoes & Turnips.

By this time of year there isn't much that's still available in the way of storage vegetables, at least not ones that aren't very, very tired. Rutabaga is one of the few. I haven't quite figured out where it stands in the new diet, but I've been eating a lot of it lately anyway. It doesn't make me feel off-kilter the way the last potato dish I made did, so there's that. 

I'd certainly had the idea of roasting rutabaga as fries, but had never quite gotten around to doing it. Fortunately, Molly Watson at The Spruce Eats has done it already and I just did what she told me, although I did turn down the heat a little and I'm glad I did. Yummy!

You do have to like rutabaga - the roasting really intensifies their flavour a lot. One cup (and all these measurements are highly approximate, it's that kind of thing) is probably closer to what most people will eat, but keep in mind they will shrink by about 1/3 in the roasting.

per serving
1 hour - 20 minutes prep time


1 to 2 cups rutabaga, when peeled and cut
2 teaspoons mild vegetable oil, about
salt & freshly ground black pepper to taste
other seasonings, such as paprika, savory, etc

Preheat the oven to 425°F.

Peel the rutabaga, whatever quantity you believe will be eaten, and cut it into thin French-fry shapes of about 1/4" across. I found it easiest to cut 3 slices at a time, then stack and cut them in the other direction.

Put all the fries into a mixing bowl and toss with just enough oil to coat them lightly. Spread them out on a large baking tray and sprinkle with whatever seasonings you like; I used the ones mentioned above.

Roast the fries at 425°F for 20 minutes, then turn them over and roast them for another 15 to 20 minutes. Watch them towards the end, as they will darken and burn fairly rapidly. Brown is fine, desirable even, but crunchy, in this case, is not good.




Last year at this time I made Oatmeal Scones.

Well, this was my very first attempt at Fondant Potatoes, and I can't say I did a lovely job. I know exactly what happened - wrong potatoes, unclarified butter, and did not cook long enough - and let those things happen anyway. They were delicious anyway, so no few regrets.

First off I didn't use waxy potatoes - I used German Butterballs -  and rather than get brown they wanted to let off a lot of starch which welded itself to the pan and did the getting of the brown. I also could not be arsed to clarify the butter and knew from the start that that would mean I should be prepared to pull them off the stove earlier than I would otherwise to avoid burnt butter flavour. I pulled them off when  the smell was so delectable I could wait no longer and also everything else had been sitting and waiting for 5 minutes already. 

Before I made these I carefully read through Felicity Cloake's article How to make the perfect fondant potatoes, from the Guardian, and followed her directions insofar as I am capable of following anyone's directions. (Floury potatoes, unclarified butter; see.) Since under-cooking seems to be a hazard of this dish I did not hesitate to cook them in a more generous amount of water for a few minutes before draining much of it off and proceeding in the more usual way.

If you are cooking both potatoes and turnips, you will need fewer of each, obviously, and there is also a definite upper limit to the amount you can get in the pan. It will be so much easier to turn the pieces when the time comes if they are not jammed in like bus riders in rush-hour.  If you want to serve more than 3 or 4 people you will need to break out a second pan.

In spite of all the flaws with this attempt, the resulting potatoes were delicious and distinctive. I will definitely want to work on making these a part of my potato (and turnip) repertoire.

In fact, after I had made these and written up the post, I found a small stash of Pink Fir Apple potatoes and tried them again. I had expected them to be better, but in some ways they were worse. The results were still very tasty, but really more like plain old fried potatoes. I am inclined to suspect that success here rests very much on having the right potato, and that I don't have it. If anyone else has made these - with potatoes available in Ontario - I'd love to hear how it worked out for you and what kind of potatoes you used.

4 servings
1 hour prep time


4 to 6 smallish (2"diameter) waxy potatoes
AND/OR 6 to 12 very small (1 1/2" diameter) Goldana turnips
2 cups (about) water
3 tablespoons clarified butter OR unsalted butter
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon rubbed thyme or savory
1 large clove of garlic
freshly ground black pepper to taste

Peel the potatoes and/or turnips and cut each one in half, aiming for as flat a profile as possible.

Put the pieces in a single layer into a sufficiently large skillet with the rounded sides down. Add the water - enough to just come up to the tops - and bring them to a boil. Boil them for 5 to 10 minutes; 5 minutes for potatoes and 10 minutes for turnips. If using both, start the turnips then add the potatoes when the turnips have boiled for 5 minutes.

Ladle off much of the water, leaving about enough to fill the pan to 1/4". Add the butter, salt, and thyme and let the vegetables boil gently until the water is evaporated; about 10 or 15 minutes. Peel and mince the garlic while they cook. Add it to the pan as the water goes.

Continue cooking the potatoes and/or turnips for another 20 to 30 minutes until they have browned nicely on the underside. You can turn them and cook them some more on the top as well if you are that dedicated to hanging over a hot pan. They were quite lovely one-sided.





Last year at this time I made Brussels Sprouts with Sour Cream & Horseradish.