Maybe I’m getting old. (But will forever want to draw at the kids’ table.) Maybe I had one too many Friendsgivings + Thanksgivings this year. (Forever thankful.) Maybe I just like soup best as December rolls in.
Likely it’s all of these and more – but regardless, I was ready to pass on all T-day leftovers this year. Another scoop of stuffing? No thank you.
Soup me, please.
I was ready for a meal like this before the weekend even arrived. And whether you still need a few more days or not to reach that point, this remains one of my favorite cleansing, warming meals as the cool winter days set in.
It’s earthy. Light. Yet full of flavor that satisfies you within just one bowl.
I stumbled upon the recipe over on 101 Cookbooks after doing a quick Google search for turnips. They are still an item that leaves me clueless sometimes. (Although, lately I’ve learned a fast roast in the oven does wonders on the beauties.)
This was first whipped up for a small gathering of friends, and again soon after in the week that followed. I look forward to utilizing the soup as the hefty holidays continue to roll forward.
Feel free to play around with the veggies you put into the pot. We did a steamed eggplant version the other night, which was wonderful. Just be sure to leave out anything too overpowering. There’s a delicateness to this soup that you won’t want to lose.
I can count the number of times I’ve cooked turnips on one hand. Five fingers. Maybe four.
It’s sad, but also exciting, when you realize you’re forgetting an ingredient in life that really deserves attention. Turnips, with their beautiful orchid-shaded skin, are highly underutilized in my kitchen. When finally tasked with a freelance assignment calling on this root veggie, I purposely bought more than I needed so I could do a little extra experimentation on the stove. I settled on this, a breakfast-for-dinner, which a novelty in itself, felt that much more so with the rarity of turnips.
Eggs and potatoes are classic match made in heaven, but I must say, grated turnips make an equally fine partner. It’s one I hope to call upon more often. Here, they contribute an extra, pleasant punch of flavor while holding the similar texture and heartiness of typical hash browns. Their slight bite goes perfectly with fried eggs.
From beer to chocolate to greens, I often like things on the bitter side. If you’re a little shy to this department of taste, consider going halfsies with the turnips and grate a russet potato or two into the mix.
For an extra treat, pocket this in a pita, and top with a spoonful of spaghetti sauce – my solution for turning leftovers into a phenomenal new meal.
Click here for recipe…
I just launched a column with Grid magazine. Each month will include a recipe, and the first from Citron and Rose‘s Chef Yehuda Sichel far exceeded my expectations. I’ve had some great kale salads, but I tend to find that raw kale is hit or miss. This version of it was a definite hit.
The photos here are some outtakes of the dish. For the full recipe, head on over to Grid, or if you live in Philly, pick up the print issue!
Call me crazy, but I don’t like sweet potato casserole. Loved the stuff as a kid, but for some reason now I find sweet potatoes loaded with a sugary marshmallow topping to be somewhat repulsive. Marshmallows, the beloved heart of my favorite toasted campfire treat, repulsive? Yeah, my ten-year-old self would’ve thought that was an unthinkable union of words too. Though I still love the ooey gooey fluff, my growing taste buds have chosen to no longer accept it in every single possible one of its manifestations. Now, come Thanksgiving and Christmas, I actually find marshmallow to be a destructive ingredient, ruining something that’s already so naturally sweet and delicious.
Regardless, sweet potato casserole will be on our table every winter holiday, no matter what side of the family that we are sharing our celebrations with. There’s something about tradition that sticks. Generally, a small spoonful will land on my plate too because my little kid self forgets that I don’t really enjoy that marshmallow tradition anymore.
What I do love, however, is our relatively recent tradition of bringing a huge dish of roasted root/winter vegetables every year. Largely unadulterated and naturally sweetened with a simple caramelization in the oven, this it the way I now crave my root vegetables. It’s refreshing to have something on the table that’s as simple and colorful as a simple array of roasted winter veggies. I find myself making a variation of this dish all winter long to serve alongside protein-centered entrees. However, it’s only on special occasions like holidays where I’ll get it together to combine 5 or more different types of winter vegetables. These are the best potpourris of roasted winter vegetables and certainly make these simply prepared veggies capable of shining among all the other casseroles on the table.
Click here for recipe…