In the U.S., cassoulet often refers to any number of bean dishes cooked in a casserole dish. The word cassoulet comes from cassole, an earthenware casserole dish in which cassoulet was first made. For a great historical account of cassoulet, visit Clifford Wright’s site HERE.

What makes this vegetarian version of cassoulet so delectable is roasting the vegetables. Roasting coaxes the sugar out of vegetables, turning them into something divine. Keep an eye on your veggies and stir them occasionally for an even browning.

What I used in this recipe is brown vegetable stock, which is wonderful to use in many dishes. It’s worth sit to spend the time making it—then just throw it in your freezer for when you need it. However, I know that time is a precious thing these days, so you’ll see that the recipe just calls for vegetable stock. The end product won’t be as rich, but it will be good.

As I said, the beans are made from scratch—that is, you start off with dried beans and cook them until tender. This will give you a much better quality and better tasting dish. You’ll want to throw a piece of kombu in with the beans.

Why kombu?

Kombu is a type of seaweed—algae, to be specific. Adding a piece of kombu to a pot of cooking beans makes it more digestible because the amino acids soften the beans’ skin and eliminates some of the gassiness. Kombu is a mild-tasting seaweed so it won’t impart a fishy taste to your dish, as long as you use only a small piece, which is all you need anyway.

Cassoulet

Yield 6-8 servings

1 cup dried lima or white beans (navy, Great Northern, cannellini), soaked 12 hours or overnight
5 cups vegetable stock
1 piece kombu (1 to 2 inches)
Sachet (sprig rosemary, 2 bay leaves, few peppercorns)
6 tbsp plus 1 tsp olive oil
3 large carrots, cut into ½-inch chunks
3 large parsnips, cut into ½-inch chunks
1 small sweet potato, cut into ½-inch chunks
4 cloves garlic, peeled
1 onion, thinly sliced
4 medium tomatoes, peeled, seeded, and diced
salt and pepper to taste
3 tbsp finely chopped parsley
¼ tsp fresh thyme
¼ tsp crushed dried oregano
¾ cup whole wheat bread crumbs
3 tbsp olive oil

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

2. Drain and rinse the beans and place them in a medium to large pot, along with the kombu, vegetable stock, and sachet. Bring to a boil; lower the heat, cover the pot, and simmer until beans are tender (1 to 2 hours, depending on the bean).

3. Toss the carrots, parsnips, sweet potato, and garlic with 2 tablespoons of the oil, salt, and pepper. Spread out onto a greased baking sheet in a single layer and roast until browned. Stir occasionally. Pick out the garlic and finely chop or mash (they will be very soft). Set aside.

4. Meanwhile, heat 2 tablespoons oil and a medium pan. Add the onions and cook over low heat, stirring frequently, until they are soft and translucent, about 5 minutes. Turn up the heat to medium-high and continue cooking until they are nicely browned. Transfer to a bowl.

5. In the same pan, heat 1 teaspoon oil. Add the tomatoes and roasted garlic and sauté until soft, about 5 minutes.

6. In a small bowl, combine the bread crumbs, 2 tablespoons of oil, parsley, thyme, and oregano. Set aside.

7. When beans are cooked, add the onions and tomatoes to the pot and simmer another 5 minutes. Set a mesh strainer over a bowl and drain the bean mixture; remove the sachet and kombu and discard. Reserve the liquid. Pour the liquid back into the pot and cook down over medium heat until thick (it should coat the back of a spoon).

8. Return the bean mixture to the pot and mix. Simmer another 5 minutes. Transfer to a medium casserole dish (about 9 x 6). Spread the roasted vegetables on top of the beans. Finally, sprinkle the bread crumb mixture evenly over the top.

9. Bake, uncovered, 30 minutes or until browned.

Cinco De Mayo, meaning The 5th Of May, commemorates a crucial moment the Mexican conflict against the French army at The Battle Of Puebla in 1862. A fairly small Mexican militia (estimated at about 4,500 men) stopped and defeated the French army, numbering about 6,500 soldiers. Although the victory was short-lived (Napoleon sent more troops to Mexico, eventually taking control), the battle remained an important benchmark event for Mexico because it boosted morale and created a sense of unity among its people, which gave them the impetus to depose French rule a year after the French took control. The holiday is primarily a regional one, celebrated in, of course, in the state of Puebla.

Also like St. Patrick’s Day, Cinco de Mayo has become a bigger holiday in the U.S. than it is in Mexico, and the same way it brought the people of Puebla together, so it brings Mexicans in the U.S. together. For Americans, Cinco de Mayo means breaking out the tequila and eating some great Mexican food. The standard chips, salsa, and guacamole is a good start (who doesn’t like that?), but to really make it great Cinco de Mayo, try making some dishes that will wow your friends.

Here are a few of the many sites where you can get amazing Cinco de Mayo recipes:

Allrecipes 

Tabasco.com

Mexicanfood.about.com

Epicurious.com 

If making a rocking margarita is your concern, here are a few sites for you:

Drinksmixer.com

Food Network

Imbibe 

Margaritatexas.com  

Bestmargaritarecipes 

At the Natural Gourmet Institute, we had Mexican day, which was our next-to-last class, and we cooked up some unbelievable food (see photos). Mexican cuisine, in my opinion, is one of the best in the world (although I can do without the chapulines—crickets). One of the dishes we made was mamelas, small disks made of masa harina and topped with any number of fresh ingredients. They make great tapas or appetizers. The original recipe belongs to the Natural Gourmet Institute, and I’ve added a few of my own notes, plus my own recipe for Pineapple-Mango Salsa. Below that is a recipe for Jicama with Lime, Salt, & Chile Powder, which makes a fantastic accompanying salad. It has those south-of-the-border flavors we all love with a satisfying crunch from the jicama.

Happy Cinco de Mayo and Buen Provecho!

Mamelas

Yield: 20-25

2 cups masa harina
½ tsp sea salt
1 ¼ cups warm water or as needed
3 tb extra virgin olive oil
Sea salt to taste

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

2. In a medium bowl, whisk together masa harina, ¼ tsp sea salt and oil.

3. Pour warm water into masa harina (mixture should be soft but not too sticky).

4. Roll into walnut-size balls.

5. Flatten balls with tortilla press.* (Mamelas are not paper thin. About 2x as thick as tortillas.)

6. Place on non-greased cast iron pan** until slightly scorched on both sides.

7. Top with your favorite toppings and bake in oven an additional 5-7 minutes.

*If you don’t have a tortilla press, simply roll them out with a rolling pin as round as possible.

**If you don’t have a cast iron pan, you can broil them or use a regular pan and oil the mamelas slightly.

Top each mamela with any (or all) of your favorite toppings. Here are some favorites:

Red Salsa
Tomatillo salsa
Black bean salsa
Pineapple or mango salsa
Cheese (cotija, queso fresco, cheddar, Monterey jack, pepper jack)
Crème fraiche
Avocado slices
Guacamole

Pineapple-Mango Salsa

Copyright © Roberta Roberti

1 cup diced fresh pineapple
1 cup diced mango
2 tbsp finely chopped red onion
2 tbsp finely minced cilantro
2 tbsp lime juice
1 tbsp guava paste or guava fruit spread
1 tsp sea salt
Pepper

Combine pineapple, mango, onion, cilantro, salt, and pepper in a medium bowl. If you are using guava fruit spread, add it along with the lime juice to the salsa and mix well.

If you’re using guava paste, combine it with the lime juice and mash it until the paste is soft. Stir it vigorously into the salsa.

Makes about 2 cups.

Jicama with Lime, Salt, & Chile Powder

Copyright © Natural Gourmet Institute

Yield: 6-8 servings

3-4 tb lime juice
1 medium jicama (about 2 pounds)
2 tsp sea salt
¼ tsp chile powder

1. Place lime juice in a medium bowl.

2. Peel jicama and cut into batonet or julienne slices* and place into bowl with juice.

3 . Sprinkle with sea salt.

4. Let marinate 30 minutes.

5 . Just before serving, sprinkle with chile powder.

*Essentially, sticks.

The irony here is that James Beard himself was openly gay. Michelangelo Signorile, an outspoken writer of gay issues, wrote this in a blog at HuffPost: “It was especially troubling considering that the legendary chef and cookbook writer James Beard was an openly gay man who was thrown out of Reed College in Portland in 1922 for precisely the same reason: because he was gay.”

I have to say, I’m not sure how Ms. Ungaro didn’t know about this, since the Boy Scouts’ bigotry has been news fodder for years now. My guess is that she did know but didn’t really think out the implications of accepting an award from them. In fact, she stated, “When I accepted the honor, I was focused on supporting the New Jersey chefs and restaurant community.”

Understandable. Sometimes you don’t see the forest for the trees. But it is to her credit that she returned the award. In a note to Signorile, she wrote: “While I support all the poverty and hunger-fighting programs of the Boy Scouts of America, including sending at-risk youth to camp, your report brought to my attention that accepting the Distinguished Citizen Award implied I support their anti-gay policy, which I absolutely do not [...] I have informed the Boy Scouts of America that I am rescinding my acceptance of the award.”

Go Susan for saying no to bigotry! And go Michelangelo for pointing out the (albeit unintentional) trangression!

My real question is, did the Boy Scouts know that James Beard was gay, and, if so, why would they present an award to its president? Hmmm.

Now came the big question: How the hell do I prepare this? I read online that you peel away the outer layers, but I think I went a little too far. I figured that it was like an artichoke—you keep peeling until you get to the light green, tender leaves. The thing with bamboo is that you keep peeling and it doesn’t really change. I finally figured that out and stopped peeling. I cut off the tip, sliced off the bottom just a bit, cut it all up and boiled them until I could pierce them with the tip of a knife.

My stir fry was really going to benefit from the addition of fresh bamboo and I was really excited to see how it would taste. As I expected, the fresh bamboo was so good. It had a fresh, mild taste and a firm, slightly crunchy texture, and it was completely superior to the canned varieties most of us are familiar with. I’m not exactly sure how to describe the flavor, though. A little grassy, a little buttery, but very amenable to whatever other flavors you’re cooking with it. The canned version has a washed-out flavor in comparison.

Another thing that struck me about fresh bamboo was that because of the shape of bamboo shoots, you won’t get those perfect little rectangles you get in a can, which gives you a clue as to how much processing they go through.

If you see some in your local Asian market, it’s really worth it to give a try. It’s not cheap—$3.99 per pound where I bought it—but you get a lot from one shoot. Here’s a recipe for what I made. I used a type of mushroom called “beech” mushrooms, which I’d also never heard of before. They were so pretty and snow white, I had to try them. But seeing as how you’re not likely to easily find them,  I changed it to shiitakes.

Fresh Bamboo Stir Fry with Soba Noodles

1 1/2 lb fresh bamboo shoot
1 tbsp sesame oil
1/4 cup sliced scallions
1 tbsp minced garlic
1 tbsp minced ginger

1/4 cup chopped shiitake mushrooms

1/2 lb bok choy, chopped, stems and leaves separated
2 tbsp shoyu
2 tsp toasted sesame seed oil
1/2 lb soba noodles, cooked
1 tbsp minced cilantro for garnish

1. Bring a medium pot of water to a boil. Cut off the tip (about an inch) and trim the bottom of the bamboo shoot. Peel away a couple of layers. Cut it up into pieces and place in the boiling water. Lower the heat and simmer until tender, but still firm, when pierced with a knife, about 20 minutes.

2. Heat the sesame oil in a wok or wide skillet. Add the scallions, garlic, and ginger and cook for a minute until fragrant. Add the mushrooms and saute until they start to turn brown.

3. Add the bok choy stems; stir fry 1 minute. Add the bok choy leaves, shoyu, and toasted sesame seed oil. Cook 1 more minutes.

4. Add cooked soba noodles and toss. If noodles are cold, cook until heated through. Transfer to serving bowls and sprinkle cilantro on top.

golden original (white cookies)
fudge cremes peanut butter
fudge cremes golden
double stuf chocolate
winter red creme

Photo: Pizza Hut

Pizza chains have been going wild over the years, with their cheesy crusts and toppings that have been blessed by Druids or something. But now, Pizza Hut has gone too far. They’ve introduced a new product in the U.K.: hot dog-stuffed crust pizza! And this has apparently been available in Thailand and Japan since 2007. Some things are just wrong.

Oh, when will the madness end?

I stuffed my face trying all sorts of food, from chocolate to jam to wine to cheese. After 3 hours, I was done. But I got to take home a few samples and some literature. One thing that struck me was that many food companies have set up shop in Brooklyn, bringing production and jobs to the borough, and helping to put it on the map as the new “it” culinary destination.

One of my favorite things to see was a product called Dinnerware From Fallen Leaves. This line, made by VeraTerra, includes plates, bowls, and utensils made from recycled fallen leaves. I was so taken by this concept. I absolutely love the idea of recycling leaves and putting them to use (instead of burning them) and further depleting our resources with newly processed wood. And what’s more, they’re really attractive. They have that back-to-nature, rustic wood look that many chic kitchenware lines are now making. Take a look at the photos below (photos by VeraTerra).

These products are non-toxic (they’re made from steam, heat, and pressure, and no chemicals), compostable, and deceptively lightweight—they can handle hot foods with no problem. In fact, they can be used in the oven at 350 degrees for up to 45 minutes, or a microwave on high up to 2 minutes. They’re naturally biodegradable within 2 months of composting.

The site has a fun feature: a party calculator: You can choose the kind of party you’re going to have (cocktail party, buffet, sit-down, BBQ, etc.), enter the number of people you’re expecting, and it will suggest what you should purchase. So, under buffet, I put 20 people (not unheard of in my house) and it gave me this:

For this event we recommend 20 – 6 inch plates, 8 inch plates, 10 inch plates, and 8 inch bowls, 30 cups and 30 napkins. For Service we recommend either 5 – 12 inch platters or medium trays.

You can do a store search on the site (there’s a wholesale section for professional use), but Whole Foods carries it, as well as other natural/organic foods markets. You can order online as well. For more information, visit VeraTerra.com.

It was nice meeting new people—others in the culinary industry—at the expo, and I ran into a couple of instructors from NGI. There was a panel of culinary professionals discussing books and blogs, but the acoustics were not very good and I had a difficult time hearing, so I just kept going around visiting different vendors. I was hoping that I’d win a Vitamix blender (I entered in a couple of places) but I didn’t get lucky. Oh, well. I’ll keep it on my wish list for now.

The best part of the whole day for me, however, was the opportunity to place a copy of my cookbook, What, No Meat? Traditional Italian Cooking the Vegetarian Way, directly into the hands of the editor-in-chief of Saveur magazine. He seemed quite interested in it, saying that he eats vegetarian a lot. I’m not holding my breath that anything will come of it, but it was exciting just having that opportunity to talk to him and know that he now owns a copy of my book.

Now that I’m done with school, I hope to be able to afford to join a couple of more associations, including the IACP, and do some traveling to other regions for other conferences/expos. Right now, I’m confined to the NYC area, although I’m hoping to go the International Food Bloggers Conference in Portland, OR, in August. What’s holding me back is the cost factor. It’s $350 for the ticket, but then there’s airfare and hotel to consider, plus food and spending money (conferences never feed you all meals on all days). I just don’t know if I can swing it. But we’ll see what happens. If any of you are attending, let me know.

So, I hope to meet some of you foodies and culinary professionals at these events. Have a great holiday, everyone.

Kañiwa , also spelled cañihua or canihua, is a tiny grain, about the size of a poppy seed. It is a species of goosefoot and is related to quinoa. Like quinoa, it is a whole grain native to the Andean mountains of Peru. Also like quinoa, when cooked, kañiwa seeds have little threads around them.  Unlike quinoa, they do not contain saponins, which is the compound that gives quinoa its bitter taste. (If you ever cooked quinoa without rinsing it first, you know what I’m talking about.)

Although kañiwa is new to the U.S., it’s actually an ancient grain and health experts are now saying that kañiwa is the next big “super grain.” Nutritional facts about kañiwa are not yet available from the USDA, but considering that the people of the Andes have sustained themselves for thousands of years in part with kañiwa, it’s safe to say that kañiwa has something going for it. In fact, it’s high in protein (it’s 16% protein) and antioxidants, and also contains fiber, iron, calcium, and zinc. And it’s a gluten-free grain.

How to use Kañiwa

Again, kañiwa does not need to be rinsed. Most sources that I’ve consulted recommend toasting. Because it’s so small, it can be incorporated into many things, but is particularly popular made into a porridge. Kaniwa.org provides this recipe (with my edits):

Basic Kañiwa  Porridge:
Cook one cup of kañiwa with two cups of water. Bring to a boil; lower the heat and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the water is absorbed. Just like quinoa, it will sprout little tails when done. Fluff with a fork. Serve the kañiwa with butter and a sweetener, such as maple syrup or Rapadura. This will make about two cups of cooked kañiwa.

Right now, kañiwa is hard to find, although you can order it online. I paid $5 for 12 oz., so it’s not cheap but not over-the-top expensive.

The texture of kañiwa is almost like grits, but firmer and crunchier. It’s quite unique. Below is a recipe that I created. It’s a very simple recipe with simple ingredients. It’s great for a party and it will definitely have people asking, “What is this?” In a good way.  Enjoy!

Warm Kañiwa Salad

Makes 6 servings.

1/2 cup kañiwa
1 cup vegetable broth
2 tsp olive oil
1 tsp minced garlic
1/4 finely chopped shallots or scallions
1 cup mushrooms (any kind)
2 cups cooked white beans
1/4 cup minced parsley

Dressing
1 tbsp stone-ground Dijon mustard
1 tbsp balsamic vinegar
1 tbsp fresh lime juice
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
salt to taste
freshly ground black pepper to taste

1. Toast kañiwa in a dry pot, stirring frequently, until it has a nutty aromna, about 2 minutes.

2. Pour in vegetable broth. Bring to a boil; lower heat and simmer, covered until liquid is absorbed. Fluff with a fork and transfer to a large bowl.

3. Meanwhile, heat oil in a medium skillet. Add garlic and shallots and cook for 1 minute. Add mushrooms and cook until mushrooms release liquid and start to brown. Add beans and cook until warmed through. Add this to kañiwa in bowl. Sprinkle in parsley.

4. Make dressing. Whisk all ingredients together until well blended.  Pour over kañiwa. Toss to mix well. Adjust seasoning as desired.

Amuse Bouche

March  19-29, 2012, was Dine in Brooklyn Week, when people all over NYC have a chance to sample a 3-course meal in some of the best dining establishments in the borough for $25. While I wished I could have taken advantage of many of the great restaurants that are opening in Brooklyn—making it THE new culinary hotspot—alas, I was only able to try one (when you’re broke, $25 is a lot of money). That place was Soigne on 6^th Ave. and 10^th St.  in Park Slope.

The word soigné in French means “well-groomed, sleek, sophisticated elegance,” which it delivered in both their ambiance and food. The décor was instantly pleasing. Its chic, upscale look was tempered with a sense of warmth and casualness. I saw people dining there in t-shirts (which I don’t necessarily approve of because unless you’re going to a burger joint or a Cracker Barrel, I think you should put on a nice shirt), and one table had a toddler in a high-chair. The lighting was intimate but bright enough that you could see what you were eating. They also have outside seating, which in warmer months will be very pleasant on 6^th Ave., which is mostly residential and has less traffic than the busier 4^th, 5^th, and 7^thAvenues.

I started my meal with a coconut margarita on the rocks with salt. They were not stingy with the tequila, and the drink packed a bit of a punch. Although, I can’t say that the coconut flavor was as upfront as I would have liked. We then ordered from a prix fixe menu.

Jerusalem artichoke soup

The servers brought to our table two silver tumblers of bouchées, which are small pastries, usually puffed and filled with something. Translated, bouchée means “mouthful,” referring to their size (they were about the size of small cream puffs). These bouchées were made with cheese (probably gruyère), so I was surprised that they weren’t referred to as gougères, which are traditional French cheese puffs. They had a sharp, salty flavor that cheese lovers would appreciate, but may not appeal to everyone, as was the case at my table.

Next, we were treated to an amuse-bouche of cold potato soup. Again, I don’t know why they didn’t call it vichyssoise, unless they anticipated being asked a million times what it was and just decided to call it what it is, but whatever. The soup was served in little cups and had bits of bacon floating on top. One of the members of my party is a vegan and requested that they give her a soup without bacon and they happily accommodated her. (She would have picked them off the top except that they said that the bacon sometimes sinks into the soup.) The soup was silky and delicious with a slight hint of sweetness. Coupled with the bouchées, it was an outstanding start to the meal.

For the first course, I had Jerusalem Artichoke Soup, containing wild mushrooms and topped with chives and artichoke chips. It was light but so satisfying. The mushrooms added a nice meatiness and the chips gave it a delicate crunch. Two of my friends had the crab cakes, which I tasted. I’m not a big seafood fan and, admittedly, they were a bit on the fishy side for me, but aside from that, they were fresh and well seasoned—not too much, not too little—and they were complimented by a white balsamic-tomato jam. Alas, no one had the spring salad. I would have loved to try that as well, since it contained trumpet royale mushrooms, roasted fennel, frisée, and chevre and was dressed in a sherry vinaigrette. Sounded good.

For the second course, I had English Pea Risotto, with mascarpone, white truffle, and a parmigiano-reggiano tuile. It was truly delicious. I thought the rice could have been cooked just a drop more, but other than that, everything worked together perfectly. The mascarpone gave it a nice creaminess, while the tuile provided the crunch. One friend ordered the 8 oz. Boneless Rib Eye and she enjoyed it immensely. I tried some the truffled French fries that accompanied it and they were addictive. The seasoning was bold but not overpowering and I could definitely detect the truffle powered (I’m assuming it was truffle powder). It also came with Cabernet-black pepper butter and watercress.

Another friend ordered the duck confit, which came on a bed of lentils dup puy, white asparagus, and red wine-poached salsify. I didn’t get to taste any of it, but it looked beautifully cooked and judging from its disappearing act, I believe my friend enjoyed it.

Other choices on the pri fixe menu were Pan-Roasted Skate with Yukon gold gnocchi, favas, morels, sunchoke puree, and sunchoke emulsion; and Niman Ranch Pork Tenderloin with roasted apple, fingerling potatoes, glazed cippollinis, and grain mustard bordelaise.

For dessert, we had two choices: Valrhona Chocolate Flourless Torte and Vanilla Bean Cheesecake. The torte was great, as sumptuous as you’d expect a flourless cake to be and as chocolaty as you’d expect a Valrhona dessert to be. There was, however, some displeasure over the strawberry puree that came with it—some felt that it wasn’t sweet enough. I disagreed. The cake is sweet enough and I thought the puree was a nice counterbalance. It was topped with crème fraiche cream, which lightened everything up.

The cheesecake was smooth, cream,y and satisfying and the vanilla bean flavor came through. The black plum caramel was less sugary than regular caramel, and I liked that. The honey-poached plum on top, however, was probably the one thing that was unanimously disliked at the table. They were not ripe and, therefore, a bit tart, yet they were bland. And for something that was “honey-poached,” those otherwise pretty slices should have tasted sweeter. Believe me, I’m not a huge sugar person; I have a limit to how much sweetness I can stand in a dessert, so for me to say that it needed to be sweeter, it needed to be sweeter.

At the end, we were treated again to a plate of little cookies, chocolate with a cream filling that reminded me of dulce de leche. It was grainer than dulce de leche but delicious nonetheless.

The total, with drinks, was $40 per person. An incredible deal for a restaurant that is normally on the pricey side. We all walked out of there very satisfied. It was a visually and orally satisfying meal, and the servers were very pleasant and accommodating. We were won over.

Pot liquor can be used in place of water or broth in almost anything. Here are some ways to use it:

* In soups, stews, or chilis

* To cook rice, quinoa, or any other grain

* To braise vegetables or a vegetable casserole

* In a vegetable smoothie

* In place of broth in a pan sauce

* If you have enough of it, you can reduce it and add a roux for a sauce, too. This would go very well with grilled/baked/sauteed tofu or tempeh.

* Add it to your pet’s food—it’s nutritious for our furry friends, too!

So, get yourself a nice big bunch of greens—any greens—and cook it down. The best way is to sauté greens in a pan with garlic and oil. But you can also use a small amount of water to boil them. That way, you get the nutrient-packed water without leeching everything out of the greens themselves. Place the greens in a large skillet or dutch oven and add about a cup of water and salt. After the greens are cooked, remove them and save the liquid. To sauté in oil, follow the recipe below, then use the liquid for something else. It will have incredible added flavor from the garlic and spices.

(By the way, I was very tempted to call this blog “Pot Liquor,” but I was afraid it would draw the wrong kind of traffic. As it is, I expect to get a lot of garbage from spammers who are keying in on the words “pot” and “liquor.”)

Sauteed Greens

1 large bunch greens, washed, drained
1 tbsp olive oil
2 large garlic cloves, sliced
1 tsp paprika
1/4 tsp red pepper flakes (optional)
Salt to taste
Freshly ground black pepper to taste

1. Coarsely chop the greens.

2. Heat the oil in a wide pan; add garlic and cook 1 minutes. Add paprika and red pepper lakes and immediately add the greens.

3. Add ½ cup water, salt, and pepper and mix well. Cover the pan and cook until greens are tender. The time will vary, depending on the type of green it is. Add more water if it starts to get dry.

4. Use tongs to remove the greens and garlic. Reserve the liquid for use in other recipes.

Sorghum has been known by other names, the most common of which are “Guinea corn, “Johnson grass,” and “milo.” “Egyptian millet” and “great millet” have also been used, which is understandable, since the grain does look like millet on steroids. I’ve purchased sorghum flour in my favorite Indian market, Patel Brothers in Jackson Heights, where it’s called marathi.

The oldest documented cultivation of sorghum is dated at 3000 B.C. in Egypt. Sorghum thrives in hot, arid climates, where other crops might fail. That could be the reason why it became such an important crop in the Near and Middle East. The Muslims introduced it to Spain, who then introduced it to France, and from there, it spread out to other parts of Europe. Sorghum is an important crop in Africa, and it is believed that it was introduced into the U.S. by African slaves in the early 17th century. According to Grain.org, sorghum is the third most important cereal crop grown in the U.S. and the fifth most important in the world. The U.S. is now the world’s largest producer and exporter of sorghum.

Sorghum became a particularly popular product in the U.S. South, where sorghum molasses is a common substitute for maple syrup and is spread on biscuits, corn bread, pancakes, and—as I found out in Alabama—THROWED ROLLS.

Aside from food, sorghum is commonly included in animal feed, and it is used in the production of alcoholic beverages, such as maotai and kaoliang in China and beer in the U.S., such as Bard’s and Redbridge by Anheuser-Busch. In southern Africa, sorghum beer is popular and is said to be a traditional beverage of the Zulu people. Also, people in South Africa used sorghum beer to get around the prohibition laws imposed on the black community. And since sorghum is a gluten-free grain, sorghum beer is a great choice for those with gluten sensitivities. (If you’re so inclined, you can brew your own sorghum beer. Here are a set of instructions.)

As far as nutrients go, sorghum is rich in potassium, phosphorus, thiamine, and niacin, has some calcium, and has small amounts of iron and riboflavin.

When cooking with sorghum, it’s best to use “moist” recipes—that is, recipes that call for moist ingredients or a good amount of liquid—because the grains are thick and starchy and if they’re too dry, they can have a pasty mouthfeel and be difficult to swallow. And it’s best to serve sorghum hot (or at least warm) because as it cools, the starchiness becomes prominent.

While sorghum might be easy to find in the South, not so much in the Northeast. However, I did, by chance, find some at an Asian market. I wasn’t looking for it, but there it was and, of course, I had to buy some. I did a little research on the best ways to use sorghum and came up with this recipe. Enjoy!

Sorghum and Kale Saute with Cannellini

1 cup sorghum grain
2 cups vegetable broth
4 cups chopped kale
1 ½ cups cooked cannellini
3 large cloves garlic, sliced
2 tsp olive oil
2 tsp paprika
Red pepper flakes to taste (optional)
Salt to taste
Pepper to taste

1. Preheat oven to 350 degree F.

2. Rinse and drain the sorghum. Place in a heavy-bottomed, oven-safe pot or Dutch oven and stir over medium-low heat until dry and slightly browned.

3. Carefully pour in the vegetable stock and a pinch of salt. Stir and place in the oven; bake until liquid is absorbed and grains are tender, about 40 to 50 minutes. If necessary, add a little more liquid to the pot.

4. Heat oil in a wide pan. Add garlic and cook 1 minute, sprinkle in paprika and red papper flakes and immediately put in the kale. Add salt and pepper and cook, covered, over medium-low heat until kale is wilted and tender (but not mushy. Add the sorghum and beans and mix well. Cook for 5 minutes to blend flavors. Add more liquid if necessary.

5. Check for seasoning and serve hot.