Zucchini Mustard Relish (Small Batch)

Sometimes I just want to make a single jar of relish without committing to an entire pantry full, and this great-tasting tangy little number does just the trick. If the ratios look familiar, it's because I based the recipe on my Jamaican Tomato Relish, but swapping out the tomato for zucchini and changing up the seasonings. That's it! It's just as quick, and just as delicious, but with a completely different flavour profile. Want it hot? Simply add a finely chopped fresh chile pepper of your choice along with the bell pepper, or a half-teaspoon of chile flakes with the other seasonings.

Best of all, it's not too sweet, so you can enjoy it on sandwiches (or sausages/hotdogs), as part of a ploughman's lunch, or alongside Sunday dinner.

Zucchini Mustard Relish
Small/Micro Batch

Makes approximately 500 mL/ 2 cups

300 grams zucchini
125 grams yellow onion
100 grams red bell pepper
60 mL (1/4 cup) granulated sugar
125 mL apple cider vinegar
7.5 mL (1/2 tablespoon) coarse salt
5 mL (1 teaspoon) ground mustard seed
2.5 mL (1/2 teaspoon) ground turmeric
.75 mL (1/8 teaspoon) allspice
2.5 (1/2 teaspoon) cornstarch
15 mL (1 tablespoon) cold water

Finely dice the vegetables, and place them in a medium sauce pan with the sugar. Bring up to a simmer (don't add water - the sugar and the juices from the vegetables will provide ample cooking liquid), and let simmer, covered, over a low temperature for 20 minutes. Add the vinegar, salt and spices, and simmer another 20 minutes (uncovered) over medium heat. Combine the cornstarch and water and simmer two minutes more, to thicken. Allow to cool slightly, and store in a sterilized, sealable glass jar. Let cool completely at room temperature, and then store in the fridge. Use within 6 weeks.

Note: The first cooking stage smells kind of off-putting, because green peppers cooking in sugar is not the nicest smell in the world. Wait it out, it gets better. Also, try not to breathe in the vinegar when you pour it into the dish - the fumes are choke-inducing. Use your kitchen fan, if you have one, and open a window during and after the process, if you can. The smell of zucchini boiling in sugar is not a good one.

⚠ SAFETY NOTE⚠ This recipe is NOT intended for canning, but rather for immediate consumption. The proportions of ingredients have not been calculated for preserving purposes, and it may not be safe to do so. Additionally, the recipe calls for cornstarch, which is considered a problematic ingredient in canning safety. Please do not attempt to use this recipe for canning.

Hummus Kawarma: Hummus with spiced lamb

Think of Hummus Kawarma as the Middle Eastern answer to Tex Mex's Five Layer Dip: the base is creamy hummus, the next layer is fried spiced lamb, further toppings are whole chickpeas, toasted pine nuts, and lemon parsley sauce. (Oh, did you want seven layer dip? Perhaps you could add finely diced cucumber and tomato, although I prefer those on the side as part of a classic Israeli salad.) What about the tortilla chips, you might ask. Well, oven-toasted pita chips make the perfect stand-in, but you could also simply use fresh pita bread cut or torn into pieces as needed. You can serve this as an appetizer or main course, as a communal shared plate or as individual servings.

The recipe for the spiced lamb topping and the lemon sauce is from the Jerusalem cookbook by Ottolenghi and Tamimi, and is also available on the Ottolenghi website, although I note that I used ground lamb instead of hand-chopped lamb neck.

So, what am I bringing to you here, since the exciting part of the recipe is elsewhere? Well, aside from cheap analogies to Tex-Mex cuisine, you also get my formula for extremely creamy hummus using an immersion blender. You'll need a kitchen scale to get the exact ratio, but if you don't have one you can still get by.

Immersion Blender Hummus

Makes 400 grams

Serves 4 as part of the above recipe (as a main course)

400 gram (14 oz) can of chickpeas, drained, reserving liquid (about 265 grams /9.3 oz cooked chickpeas))
45 ml (3 tablespoons) tahini (stirred well)
2.5 ml (1/2 teaspoon) salt
Juice of half a lemon
1 clove garlic, chopped or pressed
1 tablespoon olive oil
Chickpea cooking liquid OR water to make the total weight of all ingredients 400 grams (14 oz). If you don't have a kitchen scale, start with 60 ml (1/4 cup) liquid and add more as needed. You probably won't need more than 125 ml (half a cup).

You can put all of this into the blender cup and blend until smooth, but I find it's easier on the machine if you first make a puree of everything except the chickpeas and extra liquid. Then add the chickpeas, about a quarter of them at a time, blending until smooth between each addition, and finally adding the extra liquid until you achieve a smooth, creamy texture. Devour immediately, or transfer to a sealable refrigerator container. It keeps nicely for at least three days...I've never had it last longer, so after that you're on your own.

If you're completely obsessed with ultra smooth texture, take the time to pinch each chickpea to remove the skin. It takes a while but it's worth it, although I note that this step lowers the insoluble fibre content somewhat.

Stuffed Turkish Peppers & Sultan's Chickpea Pilaff

The long, pointed, bright green peppers used extensively in Turkish cuisine have quite a number of excellent uses. They are mild enough to chop into salads (while still being more interesting a flavour than green bell pepper), but can be added to pilaffs, stews, casseroles, and pasta dishes with a certain wild abandon. They also bake up beautifully when stuffed.

A lot of stuffed pepper recipes are based on (or incorporate) rice, or some other grain into the stuffing mixture. These peppers are so narrow, though, that I decided to make a filling that was just seasoned meat - lean, to account for minimal shrinkage in the oven - and serve the rice on the side.

Stuffed Turkish Peppers

Preheat the oven to 200°C/400°F, with a rack in the middle.

8-10 pointed Turkish peppers (such as Charleston/Çarliston Biber)

Prepare a mixture of meat and seasonings...you could use pretty much any meatball recipe you like, though. This is the one I used:

500 grams lean ground beef
1 large egg, beaten
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon ground white pepper
1 teaspoon dried oregano
3 cloves garlic, pressed
1/2 cup parsley, divided

Wash the peppers and lay them on the cutting board. Slice off a strip along the top, going about halfway to two thirds of the way down each pepper, and use a spoon or paring knife to carefully remove as many of the seeds as possible. Take up about a tablespoon of the raw meatball mixture, and use your thumbs to push it into the hollow of each pepper pod, pressing the filling gently down into the pointed end as much as possible.



Lay the peppers in a shallow baking dish (or baking sheet with sides). Brush with a little canola oil to give them a sheen (optional).

I had more filling than peppers, so I simply made the remaining filling into some large meatballs, and placed them at the end of the tray full of peppers.

Bake the peppers, uncovered, for 30 minutes, and serve warm with yoghurt sauce, feta, and toasted pine nuts.



While the peppers are baking, you can make the pilaff and the yoghurt sauce (timing works best if you've already done the prep for the pilaff before putting the peppers in the oven, and toast the pine nuts):

Sultan's Chickpea Pilaff

Adapted from The Turkish Kitchen, by Ghillie Başan

Serves 4

200 grams (1 cup) basmati rice, washed
220 grams cooked chickpeas, rinsed (approximately 1 400 gram can, drained)
1 tablespoon butter
1 small onion, minced
300 mL (1.25 cups) chicken stock or broth (from concentrate is fine)
ground white pepper to taste

Rub the chickpeas and discard any skins. In a medium saucepan with a tight-fitting lid, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the minced onion, and stir and cook until translucent but not browned. Add the rice, and stir it about so that each grain gets some of the butter on it. Add the chickpeas, broth, and a bit of white pepper (a 1/4 teaspoon should do it). As soon as the mixture is bubbling, turn the heat to the lowest setting, put the lid on the pot, and let cook undisturbed (no peeking!) for 15 minutes. Then, still without lifting the lid, remove the pan to a cool burner (or completely off the stove on a heatproof pad) and leave undisturbed for another 15 minutes. Then you can open the lid and fluff the rice up to redistribute the chickpeas throughout the rice (they have a tendency to migrate to the top of the pot).

Yoghurt Sauce

This is the same sauce that I use for Çılbır

150 grams plain thick yoghurt
1 clove garlic, minced or pressed
1 tablespoon minced fresh parsley (or dill, or mint)
1/2 teaspoon olive oil
1/8 teaspoon kosher or coarse sea salt

Stir together in a small bowl.

Assemble however best you see fit.

These heat up beautifully the next day, but are also delicious cold or at room temperature.

Hainanese Chicken Rice

One of the quintessential dishes of Singaporean cuisine, Hainanese Chicken Rice is a bone-deep satisfying meal dished up everywhere from Hawker’s Markets to fancy restaurants. It is an excellent example of how ingredient repetition need not render a meal boring or feel repetitive - the ginger, sesame oil, and garlic are powerful flavours, but come across differently in each item on the finished plate.

This recipe serves 2-4 people (or more, if you double the rice), but in our house it is the start of a multi-meal whose leftovers evolve into two more dishes over the following days (see Multi-meal, at the bottom of this post).

Hainanese Chicken Rice

Adapted from Steamy Kitchen

Chicken
1 whole chicken (about 1.5 kg)
Fresh cool water to cover the chicken
2 teaspoons kosher salt plus extra for exfoliation (as described below)
5 cm chunk of fresh ginger, peeled and sliced
2 stalks green onions, cut into two-inch lengths
Basin of ice water
1 teaspoon toasted sesame oil (for after the chicken is cooked)

Rice
15 mL (1 tablespoon) chicken fat or canola oil
1 large clove garlic, minced or crushed
15 mL (1 tablespoon) minced fresh ginger
200 grams (1 cup) raw basmati rice, washed until the water runs clear
310 mL (1 1/4 cups) reserved chicken poaching broth
1/2 teaspoon toasted sesame oil
1 pinch kosher salt

Chile Sauce
15 mL (1 tablespoon) fresh lime juice
30 mL (2 tablespoons) reserved chicken poaching broth
10 mL (2 teaspoons) sugar
60 mL (4 tablespoons) Sriracha sauce
4 cloves garlic
30 mL (2 tablespoons) minced fresh ginger
a pinch of salt, to taste

To serve
Dark soy sauce (in a dish, or just the bottle)
Green onion, finely sliced on the bias
Cucumber, thinly sliced

First, you must exfoliate the chicken. Rinse the chicken inside and out and place on a clean plate. Use a small handful of kosher or pickling salt to gently massage the chicken all over, being careful not to tear the skin if possible. Rinse the salt away and stuff the chicken with the ginger slices and green onion pieces. Place the chicken in a large stockpot and add fresh cold water to cover (it’s okay if it doesn’t quite cover - the breast will still cook if it sticks up above the water level). Add salt. Cover and bring the pot just barely to a boil over high heat, then immediately turn the heat to low to keep a bare simmer, checking from time to time. Simmer for about 40 minutes (less for smaller chickens).

While the chicken simmers, get your mise en place in order for the chile sauce and the rice. That means, mince the ginger for both the rice and the sauce, peel the garlic and set aside, and wash, wash, wash the rice in cool water until it runs clear. Set the rice aside in a strainer to drain. You can put the sauce ingredients all (except for the broth) into a blender cup now, if you like.

Once the chicken is cooked through, turn off the heat and remove the pot from the burner. Carefully lift the chicken from the broth (I lift it by inserting a wooden spoon into the centre and tilting it up so that the juices run out of the cavity) and into a basin of ice water to cool. You will need the broth for the rice, sauce, and side bowl of soup. I like to have my basin in the sink, so that I can and add more fresh cold water over the chicken to help the skin achieve the firm, springy texture associated with this dish, and I like to change the cold water once as it rests. Let the chicken rest in the cold water while you start cooking the rice. Remove any aromatics (ginger, green onion) from the broth, and return the pot of broth to the stove to stay warm over low heat.

Rice: You rice should by now have been rinsed and drained and is resting nearby in a sieve. Heat the chicken fat or canola oil over medium-high heat in a medium saucepan. Add the ginger and the garlic and pinch of salt, and stir fry until fragrant but not coloured. Add the sesame oil and then drained rice and stir to coat each grain with the fat and seasonings.

If you’re cooking the rice on the stovetop, add the 310 mL of hot poaching broth to the rice and stir it through. Turn the heat to the lowest setting, and cover the pan with a tight fitting lid. Set the timer for 15 minutes, and when it rings remove the rice pot from the hot burner and, without lifting the lid, set it aside to rest somewhere for another 15 minutes. Fluff, and it's ready to serve.

If you’re cooking the rice in a rice cooker, use a spatula to scrape the rice/fat/seasoning mixture into the rice cooker, add the poaching broth, and then turn it on according to your rice cooker’s instructions.

While the rice is cooking, remove the chicken from its ice bath and pat dry with paper towels. Using your impeccably clean fingers, rub the outside of the chicken with the sesame oil, and let it stand until needed. Just before the rice is finished resting, carve the chicken for serving and arrange on plates, and then add the rice once it's ready. For a nice tidy dome of rice, pack it lightly into a measuring cup and overturn onto the plate. I find a 3/4-cup measure works perfectly, yielding 4 portions of rice from 200 grams (1 cup) of raw rice.

Chile Sauce: combine all chile sauce ingredients in a blender cup and process until smooth. Stick blenders work very well for this. The first time I made this, I didn’t have access to any mechanical means to puree it, so I simply finely chopped everything by hand. That also worked very nicely, but it was of course not a smooth sauce.

Soup: You should have several cups of the chicken-poaching broth available. Ladle into small bowls and garnish with some finely sliced green onion.

Serve the chicken and rice with cucumber slices, and a bowl of the soup on the side. Place the chile sauce and some dark soy sauce on the table for individuals to use at will.



Multi-meal

I mentioned at the start of this post that this is a multi-meal dish for our household of two (your mileage may vary, depending on your family size - for bigger families, you would want to have doubled the rice recipe above). This is what I do:

Finally, after you’ve eaten and had a little rest, strip the remaining chicken meat from the bones, and put in a container in the fridge. As for the bones, you can either discard them, or add them back into the soup pot and simmer them for another hour or so for a much stronger broth. Cool and strain the broth, and transfer to fridge/freezer friendly containers. Cool and refrigerate any leftover rice.

The next day, leftover rice and about half of the leftover chicken meat are converted into fried rice (this is an especially good use for any leftover skin!) with the addition of a little extra onion, ginger, garlic, beaten egg, low-sodium soy sauce, any any other vegetables you’ve got kicking around. (For fried rice technique, please see my post on fried rice, and adapt as necessary.) Serve with leftover chile sauce, if you have any.

The following day, the leftover broth (or some of it) is used to make congee, by adding some water, washed raw rice, and the remaining chicken meat (added at the very end). Serve with leftover chile sauce, if you have any.

Alternatively, you could stash all of the broth in the freezer and use that instead of water for the next time you want to make Hainanese Chicken Rice. Because, there will be a next time. If you have lots of broth, you can split the difference.

Three delicious meals from one master-meal.

Coliflor a la Huancaína: Cauliflower with Peruvian Spicy Cheese Sauce

Salsa a la Huancaína, a spicy, Peruvian, fresh cheese sauce made with yellow Ají Amarillo chiles, is normally served over cold, boiled potatoes. It is a very popular appetizer, and like many Peruvian dishes, is often served with hard boiled eggs and black olives as a garnish.

The sauce itself takes very little time to whip together if you are using jarred Ají Amarillo puree, as it requires no cooking - just a brief stint in the blender or food processor (you could, of course, go full traditional and use a mortar and pestle). I used an stick/immersion blender.

As you can see, I've served it over roasted cauliflower instead of potatoes. This is partly because I had some cauliflower that was in desperate need of use, and partly because the potatoes in my pantry had started to grow, taking them effectively out of the equation. But we know that cauliflower loves cheese, so it seemed like a pretty good alternative to the potato. And it was. You could of course use cold boiled potatoes - one medium potato per person. Because the cauliflower was warm, the sauce melted a bit, becoming a bit thinner than it would be otherwise.

Coliflor a la Huancaína: Cauliflower with Peruvian Spicy Cheese Sauce

(sauce adapted from Peru Delights)

Serves 6

Half a head of cauliflower, separated into florets, roasted and let cool to room temperature.

Salsa a la Huancaína

1/2 cup Aji Amarillo yellow hot pepper paste
1 cup evaporated milk (⬅︎ not sweetened condensed milk!)
4 soda crackers
1 cup queso fresco (or substitute 1 cup Ricotta Cheese and 30 grams Feta Cheese)

Garnish

3 boiled eggs, quartered
12 mild black olives
Parsley and/or lettuce (optional)

Scoop the cheese into the bowl of your food processor/blender (I used a stick blender for this, and it was fine). Break up the crackers over the cheese. Add the chile paste, and slowly pour in about half the milk. Start to process, adding more milk as necessary (you might not need it all, depending on your crackers and your cheese) until you get a smooth, yellow sauce thick enough to generously coat the cauliflower (or potato). It should not be as thick as bean dip, but able to flow a little when poured. If not using right away, cover tightly and refrigerate for up to two days.

Plate the cauliflower (you can place it on some lettuce, if you like, for presentation purposes) and spoon the sauce over each piece. Garnish with eggs, olives, parsley (if you like), and enjoy.

While this is traditionally an appetizer, we had it alongside some pork neck in an escabeche sauce, and a baked sweet potato.

Poule au Pot: French simmered chicken

This wonderfully easy dish is one of the hearts of French country cooking. There is a bit of prep, and a rather long simmering time - but one that requires little effort from the cook. The end result is incredibly tender poached chicken, an assortment of vegetables, and an outstanding stock that can be served with the dish (pooled around the chicken and vegetables), alongside the dish (in a small bowl or cup), or kept aside for any other use you might have for a large quantity of fragrant, intense chicken stock.

Poule au Pot (Chicken in the pot) is the very close cousin of Pot au Feu (Pot on the fire) which is essentially the same dish by method, but made with beef instead of chicken and slightly different seasonings. There are a lot of variations of Poule au Pot, but I have chosen a fairly classic combination of vegetables. Some versions include a ground meat stuffing for the chicken, but I decided that it would be plenty of food on its own, and instead used the chicken cavity to hold the fresh thyme safely out of the way of the cooking vegetables.

When I was researching the recipe, I discovered a lot of references to a (poorly documented) speech by France's King Henry IV declaring the goal of "a chicken in every labourer's pot" - for certain values of labourer, anyway. A more modern example of the sentiment is found in Herbert Hoover's US presidential campaign in 1928, in the form of a circular promising "a chicken in every pot and a car in every garage."

There are a lot of ways to boil a chicken; I was honestly a bit skeptical of the long simmering time, given my almost complete conversion to the steeping method for cooking poultry. But the chicken is not cottony or tough. In fact, the chicken falls from the bones so easily that one should pay attention when separating the meat from the bones and what we like to call the grebbly bits.

I chose to serve this one with a white, roux-based sauce which I have seen named variously Sauce Blanche, Sauce Ivoire, and Sauce Suprême, amongst others. It is made with a velouté, using some of the stock from cooking the chicken, an egg yolk, milk, and crème fraîche. Recipe for my version of the sauce follows the Poule au Pot recipe below. We originally draped the sauce only over the chicken, but subsequently added it to the vegetables, too.

Speaking of the vegetables, I only cooked enough vegetables for two servings, which is why the mise en place looks a little light in the pictures below. Increase the number of vegetables as needed (or as your cooking pot allows).

Poule au Pot

Serves 4 - 6

1 whole chicken
water, enough to almost cover the chicken in a dutch oven
1 tablespoon coarse salt, plus extra salt to exfoliate the chicken
1 medium onion
4 whole cloves (spice)
3 - 4 sprigs fresh thyme
2 bay leaves
4 medium potatoes
8 small carrots
4 small turnips
2 small leeks
2 stalks celery
4 cloves garlic

Step 1: exfoliate the raw chicken. This is a technique I learned from Singaporean cuisine (specifically, Hainanese Chicken). First, remove any pinfeathers or feather debris from the chicken skin. Take a handful of salt (preferably smooth-surfaced coarse salt, such as pickling salt, to avoid tearing the skin), and massage it thoroughly into the chicken. All over. This is best done over a sink, so you can let the salt fall freely down the drain for easy clean up. When the chicken skin is smooth and tight-looking, rinse the salt from the chicken, drain and place the chicken in a large cooking pot (I used a dutch oven).

Step 2: Stuff the thyme into the cavity of the chicken, and tie the legs closed. Wash all of the vegetables thoroughly, and peel or trim where needed. Remove the dark green parts of the leeks and tuck them (and the feathery tops from the celery) around the chicken. Peel and quarter the onion, and stick the outer layer of each quarter with a clove. Add the onion quarters to the pot. Add the bay leaves to the pot. Gently pour cold water over the chicken until it is almost covered, with just the top of the breast above water.


Step 3: Turn the heat on high, and cover the pot until the water starts to just barely boil. Remove the lid and skim away any grey scum that may rise to the surface (there will be a lot less scum if you have exfoliated the chicken - I only needed to wipe the inside edge of the pot with a towel). Turn the heat to low, cover the pot again, and let simmer very gently for 80 minutes. Check it from time to time, and it if is bubbling too vigorously on the lowest temperature, leave the lid cocked to release some of the heat. You can use some of this time to peel and trim the vegetables.


Step 4: Use tongs or a slotted spoon to removed the leek tops from the pot. You can discard them (they are fibrous and have given up all of their flavour to the stock already). Raise the heat under the pot, and carefully add the raw vegetables to the pot, tucking them around the chicken if possible. If you really need more space, you can lift the chicken up (carefully!) and put the raw vegetables underneath it. More of the chicken will stick out of the water, but that's fine. If you need to remove some of the liquid to avoid the pot from overflowing, scoop some of the broth out with a measuring cup into a clean bowl or mug. The raw vegetables will cool the broth, which is why you've turned the heat up. When it begins to bubble once more (gently!) turn the heat back to minimum and cover the pot. Continue to cook for another 30 minutes (35 minutes if your potatoes are as large as these ones).


Step 5: While the vegetables finish cooking, and make the Sauce Suprême (see below). Warm some shallow bowls or plates, if necessary.

Step 6: Test the potatoes for doneness with a fork, and if they are not ready, continue to cook for another five or ten minutes, as needed. When they are cooked through, use a slotted spoon and/or spider to gently remove the vegetables and the chicken from the stock, being careful not to crush them.


Arrange on a platter if serving at the table, otherwise, divide the vegetables between the individual bowls. Carve the chicken into quarters (or sixths) and distribute amongst the bowls. You can add a little of the chicken stock to the bottom of each bowl, if you like. Spoon a little sauce over the chicken, and garnish with freshly ground black pepper. Serve with extra sauce on the side, if you like.

Accompany with a crisp white wine.

Sauce Suprême

Serves 4 - 6

30 grams salted butter
30 grams flour
400 mL chicken stock (or a combination of chicken stock and whole milk)
1 egg yolk
200 grams crème fraîche

In a small saucepan, melt the butter and stir in the flour. Cook and stir over medium heat for about five minutes, but don't let the roux darken. Add the chicken stock to the roux, slowly, whisking constantly, until smooth, and then turn the heat to low. Add a spoonful of the crème fraîche to the egg yolk, and stir to combine. Add the yolk mixture into the sauce, and whisk until thoroughly incorporated. Add the rest of the crème fraîche, and stir it through. Keep the mixture on low heat, stirring, and let it heat thoroughly, but do not let it boil. If you see any bubbles at all, remove the pot from the burner entirely. The sauce can stand while it awaits the chicken and vegetables to be ready.

One final note - you can of course customize the vegetables, and even the seasonings, to your taste. I've seen versions with green cabbage (blanche, before adding to the pot, to defeat the infamous "cabbagey smell"), rutabaga, parsnips, fennel bulb, tarragon, parsley, and shallots. Sweet potato might be nice, too. Essentially, any vegetable you'd like in a stew, you can pretty much use here. If you are not a fan of potatoes, feel free to omit them from the recipe and instead cook up some rice on the side (or do both if you just really like carbohydrates). Plain rice or mushroom pilaf both appear to be popular choices.

Japanese Ginger Salad Dressing

Ginger salad dressing is so fresh and delicious tasting that it can make even the saddest pile of limp iceberg lettuce palatable. It turns out that it's even better when homemade and you can control the sweetness, so you may need to forcibly restrain yourself from just drinking it down like a smoothie.

I find a lot of the ginger salad dressings I've a had in restaurants to be a bit too sweet for my taste, so I've put very little sugar in this one. If you like your dressings sweet, you might want to taste it after it's made up and then add a bit more sugar and give it a final blitz. This recipe was synthesized from myriad online sources, but none in particular. There are some surprising ingredients, but go with it.

Japanese Ginger Salad Dressing

Makes 2/3 cup

1/4 cup peanut oil*
3 tablespoons unseasoned rice wine vinegar
1 tablespoon water
1 - 2 tablespoons finely grated fresh ginger root (or finely minced)
1/4 cup sliced green onion - white parts only (about 3-4)
2 tablespoons finely grated carrot
2 tablespoons minced celery
1 tablespoon tomato ketchup
1 teaspoon less-sodium soy sauce
1/2 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon lemon juice
1 small clove of garlic, minced
1/4 teaspoon coarse salt
Pinch of ground white pepper

*If you don't use peanut oil, for whatever reason, be sure to use a neutrally flavoured vegetable oil. Strong-tasting oils like olive or walnut are out of place here.

I used a microplane-type grater for the carrot and the ginger, and everything else was just finely chopped by hand. I like a strong ginger flavour, so I used the full 2 tablespoons, but you can scale it back to one if you're feeling mild.

Place everything in the order given in a cup suitable for an immersion-blender (or the cup of your blender or food processor), and blend on high until mostly smooth. This dressing has a lot of body for a vinaigrette, so it will still have a little bit of texture, but that's fine - it's how the dressing is usually served in restaurants, too.

Cover well and refrigerate for a couple of hours before use if possible - but use it up within three days.

To use, simply give it a stir (or a shake, if it's in a jar) and spoon over your composed salad. It can also be used to dress thinly sliced cucumber on its own, or plain, finely shredded cabbage to make a sort of gingery coleslaw.

Moroccan Eggplant Salad/Dip: Zaalouk

One of my favourite dishes from Marrakech was an eggplant salad called Zaalouk (also spelled Zalook, amongst other variations). Moroccan cuisine is very big on salads, both raw and cooked, and this is a particularly popular one. Although you can find zaalouks made from other vegetables than eggplant, it does seem to be the one most commonly seen in the wild. Sometimes it simply showed up unannounced alongside whatever tagine I had ordered, and sometimes I selected it (along with one or two other options), from a menu. Every time it was a little bit different, and every time it was delicious.

It's pretty easy to make although it does take a bit of time, but since it is usually served either cold or at room temperature, you can make it in advance. The preparatory stages up to frying the eggplant are pretty much the same as the Turkish Eggplant Casserole that I was raving about last summer (and still make often), and it's not impossible that both dishes are related to the Afghani dish Burani Bonjon. It's flavour profile is quite different from Baba Ghanoush, the eggplant dip/spread that North Americans seem most familiar with these days, but it can fulfill a similar role.

This recipe was adapted from Fleur d'Oranger, Masala & Co's traditional recipe. I made mine a bit coarser, because that was the way I usually received it in Marrakech, but really you can make it as coarse or as smooth as you like. This makes a small batch, but can be easily doubled.

Eggplant (Aubergine) Zaalouk

Serves 2 - 4

1 medium, firm eggplant
Kosher or coarse sea salt
Olive oil (about a quarter of a cup, total)
1 small yellow onion, finely diced
1 cup canned diced tomatoes with juices
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1/2 tablespoon (sweet) paprika
1/2 teaspoon pimentón de la vera (or other smoked paprika)
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cumin
small handful cilantro leaves (optional)

Prepare the eggplant by removing the cap and slicing lengthwise into 1/2 centimetre thick slabs. Dissolve a generous tablespoon of salt in hot water, and then add cold water until you have about six cups in a large bowl. Add the eggplant slices and allow them to brine for 10 minutes, or up to 8 hours (cover them with a plate or otherwise keep them submerged in the brine as much as possible). Drain, rinse, and press the slices firmly with paper towels or fresh linen towels to dry them out.

In a large skillet, heat a tablespoon of olive oil over medium-high heat until it just shimmers. Tilt the pan to ensure the bottom of the pan is well coated. Have a receiving plate standing by. Brush the first few (dried, pressed) slices of eggplant with olive oil, and fry them in batches, repeating with a little extra olive oil added between each batch, until golden on each side and very soft - about three minutes per side, depending on your heat level. Remove them to the nearby plate as they finish to make room for the next pieces.



Into the empty skillet, heat a bit more olive oil, and add the diced onion and sauté until soft and translucent. Add a good pinch of salt, and stir through. Add the tomato paste and stir through. Add the spices and the tomatoes with their juices, and stir through, lowering the heat to medium-low, and continuing to stir, scraping the bottom of the pan clear as you go. Cook and stir for about another five minutes. If you want to add a hot chile pepper or even just a pinch of pepper flakes, now is the time to do that.

Place the fried eggplant on a clean cutting board, and chop roughly. Add the eggplant back into the skillet, along with any accumulated juices/olive oil that might cling to the cutting board or plate. Add the cilantro, if using. Stir everything together and continue to cook, breaking up pieces and mashing lightly with your spoon or spatula. If it looks too dry, add a bit more olive oil.

When everything is nice and tender and any excess water has evaporated, about 10 minutes if you fried your eggplants thoroughly, remove from the heat and scrape into a serving bowl (taste-test a piece of eggplant to make sure it's cooked through with no hint of raw flavour). If you prefer a smoother dip, you can blitz it quickly in a mini-prep or with a stick blender or even vigorous use of a potato masher. Add a tiny drizzle of olive oil to the top, and set aside to cool. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate if not using within an hour or so.

Excellent on flatbreads or crackers, or on any plate-side. I tend to use it almost like a chutney, dolloping it onto my plate alongside other dishes.

Preserved Lemon

We spent last Christmas in Marrakech, and returned with a reignited love of North African flavours. The single most notable ingredient in Moroccan cooking, from my perspective, is the generous use of preserved lemon that occurs in everything from tagines to tangia, couscous to zaalouk. It is a key component of many of the signature dishes of the region.

I've talked about the wonderful depth of flavour one can get with preserved lemon in my Lemon Risotto recipe. Historically, I've made an Indian version of preserved lemon, namely a modified Nimbu Ka Achar (not the sweet version), which has the additional flavourings of a smidge of cayenne and turmeric, giving the finished condiment a deeply burnished yellow appearance, and a lightly spicy fragrance from the additional seasonings.

Today, I decided to make a more classic version, because I've planned a lot of Moroccan recipes in the next few months. The lemons will take about a month to cure before I can use them, and will continue to get better and better after that.

Preserved Lemon

1 sealable 500 ml canning jar with a clean new seal

4 unwaxed lemons
3 tablespoons coarse salt

Wash the lemons really well. If you have the misfortune to have access to waxed lemons only, you can clean them thusly: In a colander, pour boiling water over them to heat/loosen the wax. Immediately place them in a cool vinegar water bath. One lemon at a time, rub the wax off using a scrub made of baking soda and coarse salt on a damp, clean kitchen cloth. Rub and scrub and rinse under cool water, until the skin squeaks (like tupperware) when you rub it. Dry well and set aside. Or, you can google for a different wax removal system that suits you.

Fill your clean canning jar with boiling water, and let it stand. Let some of the water run over the inside of the lid, too, so it's best to do this in a clean basin or handy kitchen pan.

On a clean cutting board, slice three of the lemons lengthwise into eighths. Traditionalists leave the lemons joined at one end, that is to say, not cutting the whole way through, but I find it's quite hard to fit them all into the jar that way. So, I do one the traditional way, and the others I just slice into eighths. Discard any seeds.

Empty the boiled water from your jar. Sprinkle a little of the coarse in the bottom, and start layering your lemon wedges and salt into the jar, using all of the salt. If you are doing traditional lemons, connected at one end, pack some of the salt between the slices and into the middle. The lemons should just nicely fill up a 500 ml jar. Finally, take your last lemon, and squeeze the juice out. Discard the empty husks, and pour the juice over the salted lemon slices, and seal the jar. The juice will not cover the lemons, but rather will fill about half-way, depending on how juicy your lemons are.

That's pretty much all the work. Put the jar on a counter where you will see it every day, and once per day turn it upside down and back again, to make sure all the lemon gets bathed in the juice. After about four weeks, you can move it to the fridge, and you don't have to turn it anymore. Over time, the lemons will start to break down a bit, releasing more juice into the jar, and dissolving some of the pulp.

To use, unseal the jar and use a clean fork to extract however many segments you need. Re-seal the jar, and return to the fridge. I've kept one as long as a year and a half, with no signs of deterioration. The combination of salt and the extremely acidic environment seem to keep it from growing mould or unfriendly bacteria. That being said, food safety, folks. If something does go wrong with yours, and it starts growing something or smelling funky (in a bad way, because it does smell a bit funky in a good way already), use your judgment. I've never had one go bad on me, but I'm not ruling it out.

29 days to go...

Cranberry Sauce with Orange & Sherry

It's that time of year again. Canadians have already had Thanksgiving, Americans are just revving their KitchenAid™ motors and/or checking travel schedules.

Cranberry sauce has a place on many of our holiday tables. In North America, wherever there is a roast turkey, cranberry sauce must not be far behind. For some folks, it's as easy as opening a can and upending the contents into a bowl, and for others, it takes a little more time, but really not by much. Plus, you can make it ahead. Freeze it, if you're really super organized (labeled, of course) or just store it in a sealed container in the fridge for a few days before the big event.

This version is made with a bit of orange juice instead of water, and a splash of sherry (optional) at the end. It takes about fifteen minutes to make. If you like your cranberry sauce sweet, go with the full amount of sugar. If you prefer it tart, use the lesser amount. If you're not sure...well, you can always add more sugar later.

Cranberry Sauce with Orange & Sherry

340 grams fresh or frozen whole cranberries
3/4 cup - 1 cup sugar
3/4 cup orange juice
1 cinnamon stick
zest of one clementine, thinly sliced
2 tablespoons dry sherry (optional)

If you are using fresh cranberries, rinse them in cold water, and discard any that are overripe (discoloured, already squishy), and pick out any bits of stem, if necessary. Drain.

In a large saucepan (do not be fooled into using a small one! You want high sides to keep hot sugar from splashing and burning you) over medium heat, dump the cranberries (fresh, frozen, or defrosted), sugar, cinnamon stick and orange juice into the pan. Using a long-handled wooden spoon, stir it about and let it come up to a simmer. Add the zest, stir through, and let the mixture bubble and spit for about ten minutes, until all of the cranberries have swollen up and split open, and then about five minutes longer, stirring periodically. Taste the mixture carefully, by spooning some onto a cold spoon, letting it cool down, and then tasting. If you want to add a bit more sugar, by now you should be able to tell. If you want more sugar, add it and cook for another five minutes, until fully dissolved.

Take the pan off the heat, and stir in the sherry. Let the mixture cool (it will thicken up a lot as it cools, and the natural pectin in the cranberries has a chance to set). When it has cooled down to your satisfaction, put it in a serving bowl and cover with plastic or a sealable fridge/freezer container, and store in the fridge until ready to serve (or ready to transfer to the freezer). It will set up very firmly, so you may wish to stir it about before serving.

If you prefer your cranberry sauce warm, you can reheat in a saucepan it over low heat, or in the microwave (in the appropriate kind of dish, partially covered, so rogue cranberries don't explode all over the interior).

There you have it: a glistening jewel on your holiday table, and absolutely fantastic on turkey sandwiches the next day.

Roasted Vegetable Salad with Yoghurt & Lime Dressing

Composed salads like this one are dead easy to figure out without a recipe, so consider the ingredients I've chosen as a mere guideline for your own favourite roasted vegetables and flavours. I like to season one or two of the roasted vegetables each a little differently, to add depth and warmth to the flavours. As a bonus, if you make a big batch they make a wonderful side dish for dinner the night before, which means you get to be virtuous by using up leftovers to make this tasty salad.

I've chosen cheese, nuts, and (optional) egg to boost the protein and give staying power to this salad, but you could definitely omit the egg, sub out the cheese, and go vegan with chickpeas, or maybe marinated tofu. The egg in the ingredient list is purely optional and is not shown here, but was included in the version of this salad that my husband took to work. He also topped everything with a squirt of Sriracha sauce, so there you go.

Beyond the selection of vegetables and accompaniments, the dressing is what brings this sort of salad together. In Germany, yoghurt-based dressings are very popular, so I've been experimenting with them more than usual. This one is Yoghurt & Lime dressing, and we liked it so much that it's sure to appear again very soon. For vegans, I'd switch the dressing for something sesame or tahini based.

Always In The Kitchen Roasted Vegetable Salad

Base:
Romaine Lettuce, raw, coarsely chopped

Vegetable Rows:
Purple Cabbage (raw, thinly sliced)
Roasted Butternut Squash (seasoned with cayenne)
Roasted cauliflower (seasoned with cumin or curry powder)
Roasted Beets, diced

Accompaniments:
Feta
Walnut halves, toasted
hard boiled egg, sliced (optional, not shown)

To roast the squash and cauliflower, I cut them into bite-sized pieces, toss with a mixture of a little water, a little olive oil, some kosher salt, and the seasoning of choice. Toss thoroughly, then tip out into a roasting pan in a single layer (include a tablespoon or two of the oil/water liquid), and roasted at about 425 F for 20 to 30 minutes, as needed. I prefer not to mix the vegetables before roasting, but your mileage may vary. For the beets, I top-and-tail them, quarter them, and wrap them, skins on, in a package made of aluminum foil with a pinch of salt and a teaspoon of olive oil. I roast them for about an hour, or until easily pierced with a fork. Remove them from the foil (carefully! That steam is hot!) and the skins should rub right off with a paper towel (or clean j-cloth). Then simply dice them to the size you want. You can also use Orange Flower Glazed Beets instead, if you're lucky enough to have some leftover.

Yoghurt & Lime Dressing

Makes 3 servings

150 grams plain yoghurt
1 large clove garlic, pressed/minced
⅛ teaspoon kosher salt
⅛ teaspoon white pepper
zest of one lime

Combine in a small bowl and beat with a fork until well integrated. Taste, and adjust for salt and garlic, as desired.

Place the lettuce in a bowl, and arrange the roasted vegetables, raw cabbage, and whichever accompaniments you choose in rows over the lettuce. Drizzle generously with dressing. Eat as is, or toss first, if you want the dressing more evenly distributed.

Add a drizzle of Sriracha, if that sounds good to you.

Quick-Pickled Red Cabbage

This is an easy, refreshing pickle to add colour and texture to a meal. It is not, however, a German recipe, despite a prodigious reliance on cabbage here in Germany; cabbage here tends mostly to be served as sauerkraut (fermented) or braised with apples, in my experience (such as was shown in my Hasenpfeffer post).

Rather, this recipe was inspired by some marinated cabbage that I had as part of a salad in a Croatian restaurant. Applying similar principles to those in the Mexican Pickled Red Onions from a couple of years ago. I did a quick search online, and found that Gluten Free Girl has a version as well which is also very similar.

Quick-Pickled Red Cabbage

Makes 4 cups

4 cups finely sliced red cabbage
1 1/2 teaspoons coarse sea salt or kosher salt
3/4 cup red wine vinegar
1/2 cup white wine vinegar
1/4 cup water
2 tablespoons honey
2 bay leaves
1 teaspoon peppercorns
1 very small piece of cinnamon stick or 1 star anise (optional)

Mason jar or other sealable glass or pottery vessel that can fit in your fridge (I used a tempered glass bowl that has a plastic lid)

Make sure that your vessel is spotlessly clean, and rinse well with boiling water to be sure.

Toss the cabbage with the coarse salt and let it sit in a colander to drain for a few hours. Make sure that there's a plate under the colander (or it is in over the sink) because purple juice will be rendered out during this time, and it stains like a sonofagun. Combine the remaining ingredients and bring them to a simmer in a non-reactive saucepan. Cover and let cool while the cabbage drains in the colander.

A few hours later, rinse the salt off of the cabbage, and pack it into the clean glass/pottery vessel. Strain the spices out of the vinegar mixture, and bring back to the boil. Pour the vinegar over the cabbage, covering the cabbage completely with liquid. If you need a bit more liquid, you can add a little more water at this point.

Cover loosely, and let cool to room temperature before covering tightly and storing in the fridge. Allow a day or two for the flavours to meld before eating. It makes a lovely, crunchy garnish to a dinner, or adds interest to a salad (use sparingly if adding it to a salad, or it will overwhelm everything else). I've also been known to eat a small bowl of it (as shown) as a snack, but that may just be me.

If you really dig a spiced flavour profile, you can leave the cinnamon/star anise and bay leaves in the vinegar, but you may want to remove the black peppercorns (or some of them) because they're not all that pleasant to bite on accidentally. If you leave the spices in the vinegar, the spices' flavours will continue to intensify as it sits in the fridge.

This keeps for a couple of weeks, up to about a month, stored covered in the fridge.

Because this dish is so super-crunchy, I think I might try a version where the cabbage has been blanched first, just to see what the effect is on the texture. My guess is that it will remain crisp and somewhat crunchy, but might have a gentler texture. I'll be sure to let you know.

Jamaican Tomato Relish (Small Batch)

Unlike most of the recipes in my Jamaican repertoire, this is not spicy. Of course, you could change all that by adding a seeded, minced habanero along with the green bell pepper, but that's entirely up to you. It's a snap to make, requiring only a little chopping, a little simmering, and a non-reactive container to store it in.

This relish is great on burgers, hot dogs, cheese sandwiches, savoury pies, as a dip for tortilla chips (or crackers!), and as a bruschetta topping - pretty much anywhere you might otherwise use a salsa. It also keeps for a few weeks in the fridge without loss of quality. It's sweet and tangy and wonderfully summery.

I note that you can use a food processor to dice your vegetables, but the finished effect is much nicer if you chop them by hand.

Jamaican Sweet Tomato Relish
Small Batch

Makes 2 cups

1 medium yellow or red onion
1/2 large green bell pepper
5 medium Roma tomatoes, seeds removed
1/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup vinegar
1/2 tablespoon Kosher salt
1/8 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 teaspoon ground Cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground Allspice

Finely dice the vegetables, and place them in a medium sauce pan with the sugar. Bring up to a simmer (don't add water - the sugar and the juices from the vegetables will provide ample cooking liquid), and let simmer, covered, over a low temperature for 20 minutes. Add the vinegar, salt and spices, and simmer another 20 minutes (uncovered) over medium heat, to thicken. Allow to cool slightly, and store in a glass jar. Store in fridge and use within 6 weeks.

Note: The first cooking stage smells kind of off-putting, because green peppers cooking in sugar is not the nicest smell in the world. Wait it out, it gets better. Also, try not to breathe in the vinegar when you pour it into the dish - the fumes are choke-inducing. Use your kitchen fan, if you have one.

⚠ SAFETY NOTE: This recipe is NOT intended for canning, but rather for immediate consumption. The proportions of ingredients have not been calculated for preserving purposes, and it may not be safe to do so. Please do not attempt to use this recipe for canning.

This has become my favourite sweet relish. I often scoop some up with crackers as a snack.

Orange Flower Glazed Beets

Beets have a bit of that love 'em or hate 'em thing going on. Judging by the lingering trend of beet salads in restaurants along the west coast, I'm guessing a lot more people love them than not - although I'm betting certain vegetarians I know are a little tired of beet-salad-as-token-veggie-item on the menu.

Happily, there are other things you can do with beets other than salad-izing them (although this recipe would be awesome as part of a salad. I'm just saying). Borscht is a perennial favourite, of course, and pickled beets are still a very good plate-finisher, for those times when you just want a little extra splash of colour and another vegetable on the plate. While technically still a salad, Ethiopian Beet & Potato Salad is a very different creature from the leaf-based beet salad offerings in these parts, which may or may not sport feta, gorgonzola, walnuts, pumpkin seeds, or all of the above.

Orange flower water gives this a slightly exotic, yet hard to define quality that feels quite elegant. Orange flower water can be found at most Middle Eastern groceries, and some regular supermarkets, too. It is usually stored right next to the more commonly known (around here) rose water, so if you ask for it and get a blank, ask for the rose water, and then look to see what else they have. Come to think of it, these might be pretty good with rose water, too. Hmm.

These are pretty easy to make, and best of all, they are delicious hot or cold, so go ahead and make a full batch.

Orange Flower Glazed Beets
Adapted from Simply Recipes

2 pounds red beets, small or medium in size
Olive oil
Kosher salt
1/2 cup balsamic vinegar
2 teaspoons sugar
1 tablespoon orange flower water
pinch of white pepper

Wash your beets and peel them. I recommend using a good vegetable peeler or small sharp knife, and peel them under running cold water, collecting the peels in a sieve or colander. Then, simply shake the excess water off of the peelings, dump them into your compost bucket (or a bag to go into your garbage, or however you dispose of such things).

Slice your beets into wedges, and lay them out on a big sheet of heavy duty foil that has been lightly oiled with olive oil. Sprinkle sparingly with salt, and fold the foil sheet into a pouch, sealing the edges well. put the pouch on a big baking sheet (if you're clever, you might start with the baking sheet already under the foil), and pop it into the oven for 45 minutes at 400 F, or until the beets are tender. Test them at that point by sliding a knife into one (right through the foil) to see if they're done. If not (unlikely) let them cook another fifteen minutes, and try again.

When the beets are done, take them out of the oven and peel back the foil so that they start to cool down. Be careful about the steam when you open the foil - it can burn you quite badly. I use a long handled fork to tear my foil open.

While the beets are resting, put the vinegar, sugar, orange flower water, a pinch of salt, and white pepper in a skillet, and cook over high until it becomes thick and glaze-like. Turn off the heat, and add the beets to the skillet, stirring them gently around until they are completely coated with the glaze. Taste, carefully, because liquid sugar is really darn hot, and adjust for salt if necessary. Transfer to a serving bowl and serve warm, or allow to cool, and chill until needed.

Garlic Scape Pesto

Ah, the special treats of summer that truly are still seasonal! Seize them when you can, or wait a full year for another taste.

I encountered garlic scapes last summer, in my friend Willie's garden. He had us over to dinner, and, after remarkably little slave labour helping to pick the scapes, served us some of his famous handmade fettuccine with garlic scape pesto. He also gave us a giant bag of garlic scapes to take home and play with ourselves.

Unfortunately for all of us, the scapes had gotten a bit on the large size, with the attendant increase in fibrousness. We had to discard a certain amount of each scape, and had to sieve the two dishes that we made - a simple pesto to top pork tenderloin pintxos, and a cream soup. The flavour was wonderful, but lordy, was it work.

This year, we were fortunate to receive scapes again, younger ones this time, from our bacon-curing friend, Rodney. They were much thinner and shorter, and considerably more tender, despite having spent some quality time in the fridge before we got around to using them. We went with pesto on fettuccine, because we liked it so much the first time. This pesto recipe was likely a bit different from the first one we had, but it turned out very well. We used fresh fettuccine from The Ravioli Store, because it is lovely stuff.

Garlic Scape Pesto
Serves 4 - 6

1 cup garlic scapes, finely chopped
2 tablespoons ground almonds
5 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
2 cups fresh basil
1/2 teaspoon Kosher Salt
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1/2 cup finely grated Parmesan Cheese

Place the finely chopped scapes into a blender or small food processor, along with the almonds and basil. Pulse a couple of times, then add the salt and olive oil. Pulse and then puree until smooth. Taste it, and see if it wants the lemon juice. If so, add the juice and pulse it through. If you are going to freeze some of the pesto, put that portion aside now. If you are using it right away, stir in the cheese and you are good to go: Add to freshly cooked, drained pasta, dab onto any savory appetizer, really, or use as a pizza sauce (that's the likely fate of the bit that's in the freezer, actually). You can also stir it into a soup (white bean, for example...ooh, now I want to try that!), or as a sandwich spread, or use it pretty much as you would use any other pesto.

Quick Pickled Red Onions

I fell in love with these in Mexico. They came with tacos, on tortas, with meltingly tender cochinita pibil, and elegantly draped over poc chuc. It seems, in fact, to be an essential condiment in the Yucatan, nearly as ever-present as the fiery fresh green salsas (oh, if only we had a source for fresh green habaneros, here).

We discovered just how easy it is to make this dish last summer, just in time for our friend Rodney's barbeque. We got rained on a little that evening, since it is Vancouver, after all, and the weather delights in being contrary, but we had some wonderful food. Our grillable of the evening was a red recado-rubbed pork tenderloin and some buns to make ad hoc tortas. And the onions, of course: a great massive jar of them.

The recipe comes from Daniel Hoyer's lovely book "Mayan Cuisine". The first time we made it, we followed the recipe as slavishly as possible, to wonderful results. The most recent batch was adjusted based on both past experience (there is rather too much red onion mass for the amount of liquid, although that may be partly due to the vagueness of calling for three "large" onions). I also had some orange habaneros in dire need of using, so I sliced one up. All in all, I was really pleased with the pantry-ready version that I put together based on Mr. Hoyer's more traditionally authentic recipe.

Pickled Red Onions & Habaneros
adapted from Mayan Cuisine, by Daniel Hoyer

1 cup apple cider vinegar
Juice of one lime
Juice of one orange, plus water to make 1/2 cup (if needed)
1 clove garlic, quartered part-way through
1 teaspoon allspice berries
2 teaspoons black pepppercorns
4 cloves
1 2" stick cinnamon
4 bay leaves
2 tablespoons palm sugar
1 tablespoon kosher salt
2 cups finely sliced red onion
1 to 2 sliced, deseeded habaneros

Pack the onions, garlic and habaneros in a clean glass canning jar (sterilized would be best, otherwise, microwave half-full of water for a couple of minutes, and then carefully empty).

Bring the rest of the ingredients to a boil in a saucepan, and allow to simmer (covered, to prevent volume reduction) for seven minutes. Pour the hot liquid, spices and all, over the onions, making sure that all of the onions are covered with liquid. Cover loosely, and allow to cool until room temperature, then cap tightly and refrigerate. As they cool, the onions and the liquid slowly turn a bright, festive pink. They will be ready to eat in a few hours. Use up within a few weeks.

Please note that this is a "fresh pickle", and not a preserved pickle. While the acidity and salt should help slow down any unfriendly biological growth in your refrigerated pickles, it is not designed for long storage. Please look up canning safety information if you wish to put up these pickles in a pantry shelf-stable manner.

These also made a super topping for a veggie burger recipe that I'm working on (hopefully more on that soon), and a pretty good hotdog garnish, too.

Yowza! Gyoza!

This is why I love having a stash of homemade things in the freezer. Even straight from the freezer, these little devils cook in mere minutes, and if you're feeling frisky, a quick little fry on one side gives a fantastic result.

This was the last of my most recent batch of gyoza - chicken with shiitake mushrooms, ginger and green onion. I must make more soon! Every time I make them, I vary the ingredients on whim and availability, and I've never had anything less than stellar results. While admittedly, this is a tiny serving - 3 dumplings of 2 1/2 inches long - it makes a wonderful topping for ramen, soba, or spicy somen, or as an appetizer.

(Note: expired link removed - instead, please see recipe(s) in the comments, below)