To kick off my Italian-free month of eating, I wanted to share a dish that’s become a favourite of mine in recent months. I’ve promised this one before and not delivered, so I thought it was high time that I shared the love.

This simple salad of Israeli cous cous (sometimes called “toasted” cous cous) and roast fennel, red onion and carrots was inspired by one served at the traiteur-caterer where I worked until recently. (Yup, I’m back on the hunt for gainful employment- anyone know of a London-based company looking for an editorial assistant or web editor? I bake delicious things and am good at sharing…) Whenever this salad came out of the kitchen, I’d pray there was still some left by the time my lunch break rolled around. Of course, I soon realised that I could quit the praying altogether if I just learned to make it myself.

And it wasn’t hard at all. This is less of a recipe and more of a suggestion; there’s no secret ingredients or complicated techniques here. This dish relies solely on the quality of your ingredients, so as long as you have good vegetable stock (or – psst – good vegetable boullion), farm-fresh veggies and a quality olive oil, you’re laughing.

This salad is one of those that’s equally happy hot, at room temperature, or cold. It could be a side to some grilled meat or fish, but makes a wonderful lunch all on its own. It also travels particularly well, making this good picnic fodder for these summer months. So while I might be dreaming of slightly different food al fresco (focaccia, prosecco, gelato…), this will keep me happy in the meantime.

• Toasted Cous Cous with Roast Veg
• serves 4
• 1 fennel bulb
  2 red onions
  3 medium carrots
  5 Tbs. olive oil
  sea salt and black pepper
  1 cup Israeli cous cous (sometimes called toasted cous cous)
  1 1/2 cups vegetable stock (made with a good organic boullion is fine)
  2 tsp. lemon juice
  2-3 Tbs. finely chopped parsley
• 1. Preheat the oven to 200°C/400°F while you prepare the vegetables. Remove the stems and bottom from the fennel bulb, and thinly peel away the outer layer with a vegetable peeler. Cut the bulb vertically into slices, about 3mm each. Peel the red onions and cut each into 8 wedges from top to bottom. With the carrots, simply peel and slice into 1″ chunks.
  
  2. Arrange the vegetables in a single layer in a roasting pan, and drizzle over 2 tablespoons of the olive oil. Season with salt and pepper, toss well and roast for about 35 minutes, tossing once or twice to ensure even cooking.
  
  3. Meanwhile, cook the cous cous. Heat one tablespoon of olive oil in a nonstick saucepan over medium-high heat. Add the cous cous and stir until well coated, then add the stock. Bring to the boil, cover and lower the heat. Simmer for 15 minutes, then remove from heat and let sit, still covered, for another 15.
  
  4. When the cous cous and vegetables are both done, add the rest of the olive oil, the lemon juice and the parsley to the cous cous and fluff it up with a fork. It may be a bit clumpy to begin with but persevere until all the pearls are coated. Toss the cous cous with the roast vegetables and serve immediately, or wait until the salad cools.

I first had Pad Thai on a snowy day in New York City about seven years ago. Andrew and I were visiting my cousins Jeff and Natasha (they of the fab Brooklyn shops UVA Wines and Whisk- I come from good foodie stock, don’t ya know) for a bit of pre-Christmas shopping and sightseeing. One evening, they took us for dinner at a Thai restaurant in the East Village, where I had my first bite of those tangy noodles, tossed with tender shrimp, chewy tofu and crunchy peanuts.

It seems bizarre to me, now, that I could have lived to the age of 20 without trying Pad Thai. Loved the world over, it’s since become a favourite of mine, and particularly of Andrew’s. Often one of the only vegetarian options on a fusion-focused menu, I’ve spent many an evening chowing down on this delicious dish.

But when I make Pad Thai at home, I salad-ify it. I’m not worried about being inauthentic (there are so many Pad Thai recipes kicking around that I’m not convinced there is one proper way to make it), but am more concerned with versatility and snackability. Simply put, I don’t really care what temperature I eat this at. Served right away, the residual heat from the veggies and sauce will give it an authentic, rib-sticking warmth. Wait a while and the flavours mellow into a nice room-temperature dish that can be either main or side. Kept in the fridge and this becomes the stuff of snacking legend, refreshing and flavourful and ready at a moment’s notice.

Another reason I’m calling this a salad is its lack of protein. While I love the tofu, egg and prawn-laden versions served up in restaurants (NYC or elsewhere), I’m not so keen on those items when cold and two days old. Same reasoning behind the prudent amount of dressing; an overly “saucy” Pad Thai can get soggy in the fridge, while this version keeps for days.

Not that it does, of course. I did say it was snackable.

Note: For this recipe, peanut oil will give the most authentic flavour, but any neutral oil will do. I’m a lazy rebel, so I just use olive.

• Phad Thai Noodle Salad
• adapted from Mark Bittman’s How to Cook Everything Vegetarian
• serves 4
• For the noodle salad:
  200g rice noodles
  1 Tbs. + 1 tsp. neutral oil
  1/2  green cabbage, shredded
  1 red bell pepper, cored and finely sliced
  1 carrot, cut in half lengthwise then julienned
  1 red chili, finely chopped
  3 green onions, finely chopped
  1/4 cup chopped coriander
  1/4 cup chopped peanuts
  lime wedges, to serve
  
  For the dressing:
  2 Tbs. Thai fish sauce (or use soy sauce)
  2 Tbs. lime juice
  2 tsp. tamarind paste
  2 tsp. sugar
• 1. Put the noodles in a large pot or bowl and cover with boiling water from the kettle. Cover with a lid or plate and let soften according to package directions- anywhere from 5 to 15 minutes. When tender, drain and rinse the noodles with cold water. Place in a large bowl and toss with 1 tsp. of oil to keep from clumping.
  
  2. Heat the rest of the oil in a large non-stick pan over medium-high heat. Add the cabbage, red pepper and carrots and cook for 3-4 minutes; long enough to tenderize and get a bit of colour, but quickly enough to retain most of the crunch.
  
  3. While the vegetables cook, make the dressing. Simmer all ingredients in a small pot over a gentle heat, whisking frequently, until the tamarind paste dissolves and you have a uniform sauce. You will want to add several tablespoons of water to achieve a “sauce-like” consistency; it shouldn’t be too thick or gloppy.
  
  4. When the vegetables are wilted but still crunchy, remove from heat and toss with the noodles in the bowl. Pour over the dressing (using a sieve to strain out any tamarind bits, if need be) and also mix in half of the chili, green onions, coriander and peanuts. Toss everything well.
  
  5. Arrange the noodles over a large platter, or remove to individual bowls. Scatter the remaining chili, green onions, coriander and peanuts over the top and serve with lime wedges.

One of my Mum’s quirkiest habits is her tendency to want to provide for my sister and me, usually just before we’re about to part ways. Let’s be clear: when I say provide, I mean give us stuff, usually random things that we neither want nor ask for.

Let’s say I’ve been home for a few days and am about to head to the airport. On seeing me, suitcase in hand, some maternal instinct will kick in which causes her to begin rifling through the nearest drawer, looking for offerings. “Do you need some maple syrup, honey?” “How about these socks- they’re very warm!” I’m not sure when this behaviour started, but it’s definitely intensified since my sister and I both moved to the UK. I’ve travelled trans-Atlantic with everything from ziploc bags of smoked paprika to spare bread knives in my luggage. And yes, I’ve just realised how weird that sounds.

But the woman comes by it honestly, I can now attest. Last October, after a week’s stay in Canada for a friend’s wedding, Andrew and I spent a night with my maternal grandmother before flying home to England. After she’d called us a cab, she began to go through her kitchen cupboards, looking for travel-friendly foodstuffs with which to send me on my way.

Though my suitcase was full to bursting already, I was touched and quite amused, so saw fit to accept a small package of Canadian wild rice. Incidentally, this wild rice is one of my mother’s favourite items to push, too- I wonder if it’s to do with that family’s prairie roots, or else an effort to provide me with a “taste of home” while so far away.

Luckily, I have something pretty awesome to do with all that rice. While it’s generally thought of as a cold weather ingredient, most suited to casseroles and turkey-dinner sides, my favourite thing to make with wild rice is actually a salad. This recipe is adapted from one I first tried at my part-time job, a best-seller there and damn near addictive, let me tell you. It’s not just the flavour, but the smorgasbord of textures here: nibbly rice, crunchy veg, chewy fruit and even (if you remember to put it in- I don’t always) crisp nuts.

As well as being delicious, my favourite rice salad is also easy to prepare, and it keeps well in the fridge. But you must include the wild rice here; all brown rice and it just wouldn’t be the same. Let’s hope you’ve got a pushy Canadian Mum or Grandma, then.

• Favourite Rice Salad
• serves 4, more as a side
• 2/3 cup brown rice
  1/3 cup wild rice
  1 red pepper
  1 green pepper
  2 stalks celery
  4 spring onions
  100g dried apricots or dates
  100g cashews (optional)
  2 Tbs. red wine vinegar
  2 Tbs. olive oil
  sea salt and black pepper, to taste
• 1. Cook the two types of rice according to package directions.
  
  2. Meanwhile, chop the vegetables, dried fruit and nuts (if using) to a consistent size- I like everything to be in 1cm chunks. Put in a large bowl and mix in the vinegar and olive oil.
  
  3. When the rice is cooked, rinse in cold water and drain well. Add to the bowl with the vegetables and dressing, salt and pepper to taste, and serve.

Much is made in the UK of curry being our national dish. Open the menu at any local pub, scan the contents page of a British food magazine, or switch on Saturday Kitchen and you’ll soon get the idea: we’re one curry-lovin’ nation. For my own part, I definitely eat more Indian, Pakistani and Bangladeshi-inspired foods than I did when I lived in Canada. In fact, good Indian food is one of the few things I miss sorely whenever I’m back home for an extended period of time. (When I’m here I miss Thai and Japanese foods- go figure.)

Despite recent reports of pasta catching up with curry in the popularity stakes, I’m not all that worried, since I’m pretty sure the love affair between Britain and curry is here to stay. What began with the East India Trading Company and led to a hundred years of colonialism seems to have instilled in the British public an almost innate liking for spice. It’s sometimes hard to see where the lines are, they’re so blurred; chutney and kedgeree are both British foods that belie their origins.

This salad is another Anglo-Indian affair: on one hand, you’ve got a bed of spinach and Puy lentils (yes, I know they’re really French, but spare me) with some tender English asparagus, and on the other, paneer cheese and a vibrant coriander dressing. At first I wasn’t so sure about the combination, and worried that the delicate flavour of the asparagus would be overwhelmed. But I needn’t have worried, as everything go along swimmingly, the flavours lifting each other up rather than arguing. When it comes to international love affairs, I guess the proof really is in the pudding. Er, paneer.

Note: If the idea of making your own paneer intimidates you, don’t let it. I’ve made this fresh Indian cheese twice now and it really couldn’t be simpler: you boil, you stir, you drain. Make it the day before if you’re pressed for time, and store it in an airtight, water-filled container in the fridge. But you can buy paneer in most supermarkets (at least here in the UK), so feel free to do so if you’re not the cheese-making type.

• Lentil and Spinach Salad with Pan-fried Asparagus, Paneer and Coriander Dressing
• serves 4
• For the salad
  200g Puy lentils
  100g young spinach, washed
  2 Tbs. olive oil
  250g young asparagus, woody ends snapped off
  250g paneer, cut into 1″ cubes (see below)
  2 green onions, finely chopped
  
  For the dressing
  1/2 tsp. cumin seeds
  25g bunch of coriander, stems included
  1 small green chili, de-seeded and chopped
  1 small garlic clove
  2 green onions, chopped
  zest and juice of one lime
  2 Tbs. olive oil
  1/4 tsp. sea salt
• 1. Put a large pot of water on to boil and cook the lentils according to package instructions.
  
  2. Meanwhile, make the dressing. In a small pan over high heat, lightly toast the cumin seeds until they begin to brown and become very fragrant. Place them into a spice grinder or food processor with all the other ingredients and blitz until smooth. Taste, as you may want to add more salt or oil at this point.
  
  3. When the lentils are cooked, rinse with cool water and drain well. Layer them with the spinach on a serving platter or on individual plates.
  
  4. Heat the olive oil in a non-stick pan over high heat until shimmering. Add the asparagus in a single layer and cover the pan. Let the asparagus cook for 3-4 minutes without moving them, so you get a nice brown crispy side, and a steamed green side.
  
  5. Arrange the asparagus and the paneer pieces over the top of the salad. Drizzle with the coriander dressing and sprinkle on the green onions for garnish. Serve immediately.

• Paneer
• adapted from Anjum’s New Indian by Anjum Anand
• makes 250g
• 2 litres full-fat milk
  3 Tbs. lemon juice
  1 tsp. salt
• 1. Line a metal sieve with cheesecloth or a smooth kitchen towel. Set over a large bowl and set aside.
  
  2. Bring the milk to the boil in a large saucepan- watch carefully, because it can bubble up quickly. When the milk boils, turn down the heat slightly and stir in the salt. Add the lemon juice and keep stirring: it should immediately begin to separate into curds and whey. After a few minutes of stirring, you should have many white curds suspended in yellow, watery whey. If you don’t, add a bit more lemon juice and keep stirring.
  
  3. Pour the curds into the lined sieve over the sink, and rinse them well with cold water.  Then gather up the cheesecloth and squeeze out as much water as you can. Leave the package of curds to drain over the bowl for about 20 minutes.
  
  4. Squeeze the cheesecloth-and-curds package again and place it on a large plate (one with a lip). Put a heavy pot or pan right on top of the package (anything cast-iron works well) and leave for another hour; the weight of the pot will press any remaining liquid from the cheese. Gently unwrap your disc of firm, but still delicate, paneer: ready to be used or stored in the fridge.

My Mum has a saying, one which should bring comfort to frustrated parents everywhere: “Picky eaters are just good cooks in the making”. Though this hasn’t been scientifically proven, it’s definitely proved accurate in the case of me and my sister, and indeed most of our cousins, too.

My family was rife with picky eaters, and I was the worst of the bunch. Christmas Eve dinner for me was often a roll with butter, and I would routinely get stomach aches before going to a certain aunt’s house for dinner, so frightened I was of whatever she was going to foist upon us. (I’ve since come to realise that said aunt is actually a wonderful cook, and love eating at her house.)

Though my picky-eater status is nowhere near where it used to me, and my good cook status much improved, there are still a few things that I’ve never been tempted to try, let alone cook. Dishes that, by their merest mention, make my stomach turn. Among the worst of these offenders is coleslaw. I know people who adore the stuff, waxing lyrical about the contrast of crunch and creaminess. But me? I only see cabbage, raw cabbage, smothered in that most revolting invention of humankind, mayonnaise. No, thank you.

It was somewhat of a surprise then, when I came across a coleslaw recipe that I immediately wanted to make- and eat. The Peanut Slaw from David Lebovitz‘s wonderful book The Sweet Life in Paris jumped out at me for its decidedly un-coleslaw-like vibe. A fresh and crunchy mixture of cabbage and carrots, it’s dressed not with gloopy mayo, but with a simple mixture of peanut butter, soy sauce and lime juice. Since there’s nothing (in my opinion) that can’t be made better by the addition of peanut butter, I figured if I was ever going to try coleslaw, this was going to be it.

And it was delicious. You know what my Mum also likes to say? There’s a first time for everything.

• Asian Peanut Slaw
• adapted from The Sweet Life in Paris by David Lebovitz
• serves 4 as a side
• For the slaw:
  4 cups finely shredded Savoy cabbage
  2 medium carrots, coarsely grated
  2 spring onions, chopped finely
  1/3 cup chopped coriander (stems and leaves)
  
  For the dressing:
  1/4 cup crunchy peanut butter
  1 garlic clove, minced
  juice of one lime
  2 Tbs. sesame oil
  1 Tbs. soy sauce
  1 Tbs. boiling water
  good pinch sea salt
• 1. Toss together all slaw ingredients in a large bowl and set aside.
  
  2. To make the dressing, I like to combine all ingredients in a watertight tupperware container (or glass jar, or anything with a reliable seal) and shake until smooth. If you’re possessed of infinite patience, you can also whisk them together in a small bowl.
  
  3. Pour the dressing over the slaw and toss until everything is well coated. Serve immediately.
• Note: This slaw doesn’t keep well, but can be made in advance up to the point where slaw and dressing are combined.

You know, it’s funny. For most of my life thus far, I’ve professed to be a hater of salads. I know, it’s difficult to imagine hating something as innocuous and unassuming as a salad. It wasn’t a passionate hatred; I’ve always happily munched of lettuce and veg (no dressing, please) after dinner with the rest of my family. But as something to spend time making? As something to get excited about? As something to actually pay for in a restaurant? Please, I had better things to eat.

Which makes it all the more surprising that over the last few years, I’ve become obsessed with salads. My Mum might say that this is evidence of me “growing up”, but I know better. What really sparked this change of heart was discovering that salads don’t have to have lettuce. They can have vegetables. Or legumes, or cheese, or even pasta! Suddenly, a whole new world of dishes opens up when you realise that “salad” just means “dish served cold or at room temperature”.

This particular salad is an adaption of one in Falling Cloudberries by Tessa Kiros. I reviewed this book last summer and at the time gave it three stars, though I’m beginning to think it deserves more. Lately, I want to eat everything I see in this multi-cultural gem of a book. Tessa’s Greek-inspired Chickpea and Feta Salad takes chickpeas, feta cheese, red onion, green onion, fresh herbs, lemon juice and olive oil and somehow turns it into more than the sum of its parts.

It’s not the simplest salad you’ll come across. There’s rather a lot of simmering, chopping, sautéeing and marinating to do, but it’s worth it. This is by far the best chickpea salad I’ve ever had. Even if you’re a salad hater, a chickpea hater or a feta hater, I think you should try this. I know I’ll be eating it all summer (though I might munch on the odd bit of naked lettuce, too).

• Chickpea and Feta Salad
• adapted from Falling Cloudberries by Tessa Kiros
• serves 6 as a side; 3 as a main
• 1/3 cup + 2 Tbs. olive oil
  1 leek, sliced lengthwise and chopped (white and light green parts only)
  1 small red onion, finely chopped
  1-2 red chilies, de-seeded and finely chopped
  3 garlic cloves, finely chopped
  approx. 500g chickpeas, either from a can or cooked from dried
  200g feta, crumbled
  4 green onions, finely chopped (dark and light green parts only)
  1/3 cup finely chopped coriander
  2 Tbs. finely chopped mint
  zest and juice of 1 lemon
  sea salt and black pepper, to taste
• 1. Heat 2 Tbs. of the olive oil in a nonstick pan over medium-low heat. Gently cook the leek and red onion for 8-10 minutes, until very soft and beginning to turn golden. Add the chili and garlic and cook for another minute or two until very fragrant- be careful not to brown the garlic. Remove from heat and set aside to cool.
  
  2. Place the chickpeas, feta, green onions, coriander, mint, lemon zest, lemon juice and remaining olive oil in a large bowl. When it’s cool enough not to melt the feta, add the mixture from the frying pan and gently stir everything to combine. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Leave salad for at least one hour (or as many as 24) in the fridge; the flavours will meld and improve.

Recently, I started a new part-time job. From now on I’ll be working 3-4 days a week at a local traiteur/caterer’s just around the corner from me. After nearly three years of shopping at this place and getting inspiration from their food, it only makes sense that I’m now working there. I think it’s likely that this blog set me apart from other applicants, too. You asked for foodies? I can give you that.

Of course now I’m the “blogging girl”. My new co-workers keep introducing themselves alongside such lines as “Oh, I’ve seen your blog” or “So you’re the girl with the food blog!”. It’s getting a bit embarrassing, to be honest. Still, at least I don’t have to be worried about getting dooced, right?

This salad is a riff on one of the specials offered my first day. I didn’t actually try it, but believe me- I was eyeing this concoction all day, and ran home to make my own ASAP. Beetroot, orange, walnuts and thyme make for a surprising and delicious combination. For my version, I threw in some jerusalem artichokes I had lying around, and replaced the oranges with my preferred clementines. A squeeze of lemon to add that extra zing and there it was: a working lunch in less than 10 minutes.

• Beet, J-Choke and Clementine Salad
• serves 4 as a side
• 1 large beet, scrubbed well
  2 jerusalem artichokes, scrubbed well
  2 clementines, peeled and segmented
  juice of 1 clementine
  1 Tbs. lemon juice
  1 tsp. thyme leaves
  tiny pinch salt
  1/3 cup roughly chopped walnuts
• 1. Grate the beet and jerusalem artichokes into a large bowl, using a grater with relatively thick holes.
  
  2. Add the clementine segments, clementine juice, lemon juice, most of the thyme leaves, the salt and most of the walnuts. Mix well and transfer to serving platter, if using. Sprinkle with the rest of the thyme and walnuts and serve.

Don’t you love rediscovering an old favourite? Whether a book, old movie or cherished item of clothing, it’s always nice to stumble across our long-forgotten loves. That’s what happened this week in my kitchen, with (predictably) a recipe for (perhaps unpredictably) a stir-fry.

Last Sunday, I told you that I was planning on making several Asian dishes over the week. What used to be a regular occurance in my flat had become rare: Chinese flavours had given way to Indian ones, Thai dishes had stepped aside for Italian. And although no one can say anything against curries or pastas (not to me, anyway- I wouldn’t let them), I admit I was getting a little bored.

It was Andrew who reminded me of this noodle stir-fry, which used to appear almost weekly on our table. It’s one of his favourite-ever dishes, so I felt a little guilty when I calculated that I hadn’t made it in, oh, six months or so. Realising that it was precisely the kind of thing I was craving too, I set about prepping what’s become known to us as “Peanut Thai Noodle”.

There’s a lot more than just peanuts and noodles going on here, of course. This dish is packed with vegetables and proteins, not to mention flavour. Broccoli, carrot and red bell pepper wrangle for room with tofu and shrimp. The sauce, a delicious blend of sesame oil, soy sauce, rice wine vinegar and peanut butter, has taken me several years to perfect, but it’s there now: tangy, sweet, salty and spicy.

Like many stir-fries, this isn’t exactly effortless to put together. There’s a lot of chopping, mincing and mixing to do, but you’ll forget all that, once you taste it. After polishing off a huge bowl of this, I turned to Andrew and happily announced “I could eat that again”. So if you’re listening, Peanut Thai Noodle- I’m so sorry. I’ll never abandon you again, I promise.

• Peanut Thai Noodle
• serves 2-3
• Sauce
  3 Tbs. sesame oil
  2 Tbs. rice wine vinegar
  2 Tbs. soy sauce
  2 Tbs. smooth peanut butter
  1 Tbs. lime juice (about half a lime’s worth)
  1 Tbs. sugar
  1/2 tsp. chili flakes
  
  Stir-Fry
  125g egg noodles (your favourite kind for stir-fries)
  2 Tbs.+1 tsp. vegetable oil
  140g firm tofu, cut into 1/2″ cubes
  1 very small head broccoli, cut into bite-sized florets
  1 medium carrot, peeled and sliced thinly
  1/2 red bell pepper, sliced thinly
  100g raw shrimp, shelled and de-veined
  2 garlic cloves, minced
  1″ piece of ginger, minced
  2 Tbs. chopped fresh coriander
  2 Tbs. chopped green onions
• 1. In a small bowl, combine all ingredients for the sauce and whisk until smooth- it will take a while because of the peanut butter, but keep at it. (Alternatively, you can always put everything into a watertight plastic container and shake it into submission.) Set aside sauce until later.
  
  2. Bring a large pot of water to the boil and salt it generously. Cook the noodles according to package instructions, then drain and set aside.
  
  3. Meanwhile, heat 1 tablespoon of the oil in a large nonstick frying pan over medium-high heat. When hot, add the tofu and cook for about 8 minutes, until browned on all sides. Remove to a paper towel-lined plate to cool.
  
  4. Add the other tablespoon of oil to the pan and throw in the vegetables. Cook for 8-10 minutes until cooked through but still crisp. (To speed this up, I sometimes add a splash of water and partially cover the pan, allowing the veg to steam a bit before I remove the lid and crisp them up. It works well, but don’t use too much water- you don’t want the veg soggy.)
  
  5. Add the prawns and cook for 1-2 minutes until they become pink. Then return the tofu to the pan, and push everything to the perimeter. Into the space you’ve made in the middle of the pan, add the final teaspoon of oil then the minced garlic and ginger. Stir the garlic and ginger around in the oil for about a minute, until everything becomes fragrant.
  
  6. Pour the sauce into the pan, and add the noodles. As soon as the sauce begins to bubble, turn off the heat. Using a pair of spoons or some rubber tongs, toss pan contents together so everything is evenly coated. At the last minute, toss in the coriander. Serve garnished with the green onion.

“We got beets!”

Does anyone else remember that Simpsons line? Marge and Lisa are coming home from the grocery store, and an enthusiastic Lisa calls this out to Homer and Bart? If I’m honest I don’t, but my friend Maya does, and used to say this for a random laugh back in highschool. (Much of our humour was Simpsons-related at the time.) I’m not sure why, but this particular line has stuck with me, and I can’t buy or cook beets without hearing Lisa/Maya’s voice in my head.

Which I’ll admit, doesn’t happen that often. Beets are a rare occurrence in my home, so I don’t often get the chance to call this out to Andrew on returning from the farmer’s market. Not that he’d be so thrilled by that, anyway (he’s not a beet fan). I love their sweet, earthy flavour, but can never think of very many interesting ways to prepare them.

Last weekend though, I was done in by the lovely colour of this bunch. Convinced that I could overcome my beetblock, I bought them, with grand ideas of inventing inspiring recipes that would impress my readers and convert my boyfriend. Predictably, this never materialized, and the other day I settled on perhaps the most boring beet-related idea ever: a salad. With goat’s cheese. And walnuts. Are you asleep yet?

Despite its less-then-revolutionary roots, this salad is actually very good. I love the classic, if somewhat uncreative, pairing of beets and goat’s cheese; the flavours balance each other so well. Some chopped walnuts add necessary crunch, and the lemon juice keeps the whole thing bright and vibrant. Mark Bittman’s genius method of roasting individual beets means this is super-easy to put together, too.

So, while this recipe might not inspire Lisa’s level of enthusiasm, it’ll at least give you something to do with beets, should you fall prey to their spell and bring some home.

• Foil-roasted Beets
• from Mark Bittman
• beets
  aluminum foil
• 1. Preheat your oven to 200°C/425°F. 
  
  2. Trim beets and scrub them well, then wrap each one individually in the foil.  
  
  3. Place the foil-wrapped beets on a baking sheet, and bake for 45-60 minutes, depending on their size. Beets are done when you can piece them easily with a knife (they may finish cooking at different times). 
  
  4. Remove beets from the oven and let cool in the foil. At this point, you can either use them immediately, or keep them (still wrapped in the foil) in the fridge for up to 3 days. 
• Note: When you unwrap the cooled beets, the skin should easily peel away.  

• Roasted Beet, Goat’s Cheese and Walnut Salad
• These quantities are per person; multiply as needed
• 3-4 roasted beets (brought to room temperature if chilled)
  small handful walnuts, roughly chopped
  1 tsp. chopped fresh parsley
  1 tsp. lemon juice
  2 tsp. olive oil
  sea salt and black pepper
  30g soft goat’s cheese  
• 1. Peel the beets, chop them into bite-sized chunks and place into a large bowl. Add the walnuts, lemon juice and olive oil and season to taste. 
  
  2. Transfer salad to a serving dish and scatter over the goat’s cheese. Serve.

I always shop for food with the best of intentions: I want healthy, in-season produce with which to make new and interesting meals. Hopefully, these meals are both dinner-worthy and blog-worthy, but of course that isn’t always the case.  

Because of these (quite lofty, really) ideals, I always try to push my boundaries with the food that I buy, often picking out things just because they look interesting or pretty. Therein lies the problem. While I probably like a good variety of vegetables, there are far fewer that I actually know what to do with. So my good intentions can often languish in the vegetable crisper for days, resulting in wilted vegetables and a benign sense of failure.

I hinted on Sunday that I was half-expecting this outcome with the green beans I bought. They always say “side” to me, and as someone far too lazy for anything more than one-dish meals, that never bodes well. My patch for this problem (quite common for vegetarians) is to add starch: grains and legumes can both help to elevate a modest vegetable to something resembling a meal. 

Casting my net around for some inspiration, I saw this salad over at 100 Cookbooks yesterday. I’ve never seen wheat berries in the shops around here, but I figured they couldn’t be that different from my favourite go-to grain, farro. With the rocket thrown in for good measure and a favourite salad dressing to bring everything together, the flavours became perfectly balanced: nutty, sweet, spicy. The slight tang of the dressing and the salty pecorino finished things off perfectly.

I’m already looking forward to having the rest of this for lunch tomorrow, so I guess that makes this meal dinner-worthy, blog-worthy and leftover-worthy. Not bad for a “side-dish veg”, wouldn’t you agree?

• Farro and Green Bean Salad
• serves 3 as a main, more as a side
• Salad
  1 cup (approx 180g) uncooked farro
  225g green beans 
  several handfuls (approx 35g) young, fresh rocket
  black pepper, to taste
  pecorino romano cheese, to serve

  Dressing
  1/4 cup olive oil
  2 tsp. balsamic vinegar
  2 tsp. soy sauce
  1 tsp. honey
  juice and half a lime
  pinch of sea salt
  black pepper 

• 1. Put a large pot of water on to boil. When it boils, add the farro and cook for 25 minutes, until tender but still slightly chewy. 
  
  2. Trim the stem ends of the green beans, and if they’re very long, cut them into manageable 2-3″ lengths. Add to the boiling water (with the farro) for the last 3-4 minutes of cooking. Drain and rinse everything in cold water and set aside in a large bowl.
  
  3. Meanwhile, mix together all dressing ingredients. Pepper to taste, mix well and set aside. 
  
  4. Just before you’re ready to eat, toss the farro and bean mixture with the dressing and rocket. Serve with shaved pecorino and freshly ground pepper on top.