Smoky Quinoa Black Bean Falafel

I adore falafel, but it’s definitely not one of my favorite dishes to make. I put the two-bite morsels in the same boat as sushi: ideal take-out fare, where I can gleefully delight in every transportable component from the tiny side condiments to the just-so placed meal elements inside the rectangular cardboard container, not at an inch of surface area to spare. Fried chickpea patties are probably not the first dish that comes to mind when you think dinner on-the-go, but I happen to live near Taim, which serves sensational herbed falafel nestled against perfectly proportioned dollops of hummus, tahini, Israeli salad, and tabbouleh, plus a za’atar spiced pita bread on the side. The arrangement is nothing short of heaven, and I’ll happily dig into this smorgasbord of flavors with my plastic fork over recreating each of these accoutrements from scratch any day.

I know, I know, falafel isn’t hard to make. It involves a food processor and an oven. (I actually have an excellent recipe for the homemade version here). But let’s be honest, it’s not exactly a “put everything in the food processor!” kind of dish. It involves herbs—usually more than one kind—that have to be carefully destemmed before blending. The bulb, whether it be onions, scallions, or shallots, likely need to be chopped too. Then each patty has to be hand-formed, and before you know it, the whole endeavor becomes quite cumbersome. (On second thought, can I have an extra za’atar spiced pita with my order, please?) 
Quashing all of my grievances with a single recipe is this Smoky Quinoa Black Bean Falafel. Here, we have a true everything-into-the-food-processor patty, no knife required. Even better, it’s a pantry item rendition: you most likely already have the ingredients in your larder. The base is a bean, seed and nut mix (hello protein!) seasoned with ample spices, tomato paste, and chipotle pepper for acidity; and coconut aminos and nutritional yeast for umami. (Don’t fret if you don’t have some of the more obscure ingredients. Soy sauce can easily take the place of coconut aminos—just omit the salt—and nutritional yeast is optional. If you don’t have chipotle peppers in adobe lying around, use one teaspoon of chili powder instead). 

Dana of Minimalist Baker—the quick & easy vegan cooking queen— is behind the recipe, so you know she has a few tried-and-true tricks up her sleeve when it comes to texture. To ensure a super crispy crust without using any oil, Dana bakes the canned beans in advance to rid of excess water, ensuring that the quinoa/black bean base is sticky and unyielding. You’ll feel the sturdiness of the batter in your hands after blending: its appropriately crumbly, but not too pliant; and just gummy enough to instill confidence that each rolled patty will deftly hold its own. Post-baking, this translates to an overwhelmingly satisfying chip-like crunch on the outside, and moist, meaty chew on the inside. 

I was also able to adjust my patty-forming technique to be much more efficient than in the past. The trick lies in rolling each patty with your palms, rather than your fingers. Using a heaping tablespoon of batter per patty, I would scoop the contents into the palm of my hand, where I would roll it into a ball. Then, I would flatten the patty—again, only using the palm of my hand—before transferring to the baking sheet. Each patty took about 30 seconds with this method. 

Try the falafel in a pita or on top of a salad—I always like serving mine with some diced tomatoes and cucumbers, but the second time around I got creative and added some olives and pickled onions, too. For a simple tahini dressing, combine 3 parts tahini, 2 parts fresh lemon juice, 1 part olive oil, and enough water (likely the same amount as the lemon juice) to achieve a drizzly consistency. (Water will thicken tahini before it thins it, so don’t be alarmed if at the beginning you achieve the reverse effect). Then, season with salt and pepper to taste.

Smoky Quinoa Black Bean Falafel (from Minimalist Baker)

Makes 16 falafel patties

Ingredients:

1 cup cooked and cooled quinoa, from 1/2 cup dry (make sure it's cooked and completely cooled before using) 

1 15-ounce can black beans (rinsed, drained, dried) 

1/4 cup pumpkin seeds (raw or roasted) 

5 cloves garlic (skin removed and crushed) 

1/2 tsp sea salt, plus more to taste 

1 tsp ground cumin 

1/2 tsp ground coriander 

2 Tbsp tomato paste 

2 Tbsp coconut aminos (or soy sauce, if using, omit the sea salt)

1 chipotle pepper in adobo sauce (can sub 1 tsp chili powder) 

1 tsp nutritional yeast (optional)

Directions:

1. If you haven’t prepared your quinoa yet, do so now (make sure it’s cooked and cooled completely before use). 

2. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Add rinsed, dried black beans to a parchment-lined baking sheet. Bake for 15 minutes or until beans appear cracked and feel dry to the touch. Remove beans from the oven and then increase oven heat to 375 degrees F. 

3. Add black beans to a food processor along with pumpkin seeds and garlic and pulse into a loose meal. Then add cooked/cooled quinoa, salt, cumin, coriander, tomato paste, coconut aminos, chipotle pepper in adobo, and nutritional yeast (optional). Blend to combine until a textured dough forms (you're not looking for a purée). 

4. Taste and adjust flavor as needed, adding more coconut aminos for saltiness/depth of flavor, adobo sauce for heat, cumin for smokiness, or salt for overall flavor. 

5. Scoop out 1 1/2 Tbsp amounts and gently form into small discs using your hands. Add formed falafel to a parchment-lined baking sheet. 

6. Bake for 15 minutes. Then flip to ensure even baking and bake for 10-15 minutes more or until golden brown and crispy on the edges.

Rainbow Raw Pad Thai

Every time I return from a glutenous weekend away, I gravitate towards vegan food. Maybe my body is going through vegetable withdrawal. Or is it simply responding to the fat- and salt-laden meals with a craving for the total opposite? Either way, it's something I am acutely aware of, since I do generally eat carnivorous or pescatarian protein sources daily.

This vegan inkling emerged again over the weekend, despite having travelled nowhere. Instead, it arose as a reactionary to the gorge-with-abandon attitude I seem to have adopted this holiday season. Party after party, event after event, I've embraced one more cookie, said yes! to an extra glass of champagne. All of which is fine, but clearly, my body is asking for some recalibration.

Enter Rainbow Raw Pad Thai. A silky, almond butter-lime dressing decadently envelopes slivered carrots, cabbage, red pepper, and zucchini; most noteworthy is their crunchy texture and uncooked sweetness. Sesame seeds, hemp seeds, and edamame provide ample protein to ensure each bowl yields a satisfying main course. This recipe is vegan food at its finest—in other words, its so delicious, so flavorful yet nutritious, that acknowledging the lack of animal-based protein comes as an afterthought, if at all.

Let's dive further into the raw aspect of the dish—clearly, the steaming bowl of rice noodles that is associated with pad thai this recipe is not. I've been besottedly watching Salt Fat Acid Heat on Netflix (if you aren't familiar with the docuseries or James Beard Award-winning cookbook, chef Samin Nosrat asserts that the secret to great cooking lies not in measurements and precision, but rather a mastery of these four titular elements.) Shifting from a granular, ingredient-minded approach to a four-pronged fundamental one has reshaped the way I think about my dishes entirely. If we were to apply Nosrat's philosophy here, soy sauce provides the salt, almond butter and sesame oil the fat, lime juice the acid, but heat is missing—intentionally.  Surprisingly, the vegetables' sweet flavors are best showcased without warmth, their snappy texture tempered only by the sleek dressing. In other words, salt, fat, and acid are so boldly represented that the dressing needs the juxtaposition of taut, chomping ingredients to provide the requisite "tension", or contrasting flavors and textures, that make for a great dish. Though I promise eating it is a totally stress-free experience :)


Rainbow Raw Pad Thai (from Oh She Glows)
Makes 2 large portions

Ingredients

For the salad

1 medium zucchini, julienned or spiralized
2 large carrots, julienned
1 red pepper, thinly sliced
1 cup thinly sliced red cabbage
3/4 cup frozen edamame, thawed
3 scallions, thinly sliced

1 jalapeno pepper, seeds removed and diced (optional, added by me)

1/2 cup cilantro leaves (optional, added by me)
1 Tbsp hemp seeds
1 tsp sesame seeds

For the dressing
1 garlic clove
1/4 cup raw almond butter (or peanut butter)
2 Tbsp fresh lime juice
2 Tbsp low-sodium tamari
2 Tbsp water
2.5 tsp pure maple syrup (or other sweetener)
1/2 Tbsp toasted sesame oil
1 tsp freshly grated ginger
hot red chili flakes (optional, if you like heat)


Directions:

1. Prep vegetables. Add the zucchini, carrots, pepper, jalapeno, cilantro, and cabbage into one or two large bowls. Toss with hands to combine.
2. Prepare the dressing by processing all dressing ingredients in a mini processor (or simply whisk by hand). The dressing may seem a bit thin at first, but it thickens as it sits.
3. Top bowls with edamame, scallion, hemp seeds, and sesame seeds. Pour on dressing and enjoy!

Sumac Chicken with Cauliflower and Brussels Sprouts

Where have you been, woman? I know, I know! I have not posted a new recipe in nearly 2 months, and the one below is paired with a single measly photo. So sorry but I’ve spent the past 8 weeks on a sun-drenched tropical island, taking a vacation from technology and clutter to idly wander white sand beaches, stopping to eat the occasional coconut or papaya should it happen to bounce my way. Sike! I’ve been trudging through this miserable Nor’easter-heaped sludge Spring with all you fools, just busy busy busy with the other writing I do (aka the one that is paid). 
I’ve still been cooking up a storm, of course. Jam-packed days mean less involved dinners, and I have fallen in love with the sheet pan method. For the better part of an hour, vegetables and proteins are heaped together on a single wide sheet pan as I go about cleaning/laundry/yoga in my living room. Forty-five minutes later, presto! A deeply roasted, bronzed and bubbling denouement— that looks and tastes as if I’ve been slaving away for the past week— materializes right before my tired eyes.

The namesake of Sumac Chicken with Cauliflower and Brussels Sprouts is definitely the winsome ingredient here. Sumac, a tart, lemony spice featured in Middle Eastern cooking, is humbled with a pinch of brown sugar and smoky paprika. Both the chicken and vegetables get roasted in this sprightly rub, then finished with a lovely drizzle of fresh herbs and lemon juice. The chicken is roasted bone-in and skin-on, giving it that moist, fall-off-the-bone consistency of an expertly done rotisserie. It took my husband and I three days to finish the pan’s offerings (I doubled the recipe), and the flavors only seemed to intensify every day that passed.

A quick note on chicken: as someone who’s been a skinless, boneless chicken breast devotee my whole life, the transition to skin-on, bone-in cuts of both dark meat and light was a bit intimidating. But the fat content of these cuts is nothing to fear here. In fact, its where all of your flavor and succulence will come from. If you cannot bear the thought of drumsticks and thighs, chicken breast is fine, just make sure to follow the aforementioned preparation so it doesn’t dry out. However, I really liked using a mixture of dark and light meat. I was also blown away by the cost-efficiency of buying these cuts: at Trader Joe’s, a “family pack” (2 breasts and 4 drumsticks, all organic) was only $2.99/lb. You can also buy an entire chicken and have the butcher counter cut it up for you, which will give you a nice variety of all these pieces.

Sumac Chicken with Cauliflower and Brussels Sprouts (altered slightly from Cooking Light)
Serves 4

Ingredients
3 Tbsp olive or avocado oil, divided
1 Tbsp sumac
1 tsp kosher salt, divided
1 tsp light brown sugar
1 tsp paprika
¼ tsp red pepper flakes
1 lb cauliflower florets
1 lb Brussels sprouts, halved lengthwise
2 lbs chicken thighs/drumsticks/bone-in, skin-on breast
1 small lemon, halved lengthwise and thinly sliced
1 small red onion, cut into ¾ inch wedges
1 cup finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley or cilantro; preferably, a mix
1 Tbsp fresh lemon juice
1 small garlic clove

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 425°F. 
2. Combine 2 Tbsp oil with sumac, ¾ tsp salt, brown sugar, paprika, and red pepper in a medium bowl. Place cauliflower and Brussels sprouts on a foil-lined baking sheet. Add half of oil mixture; toss to coat. 
3. Add chicken pieces and lemon slices to pan. Rub remaining oil mixture over chicken. Bake for 20 minutes. Stir vegetables. Sprinkle onion wedges over pan. Bake for 20 more minutes, or until chicken is done. 
4. Combine remaining 1 Tbsp oil, parsley, and remaining ingredients in a small bowl. Spoon parsley mixture evenly over chicken and vegetables. Serve with warm whole-wheat couscous, if desired. 

Pan-seared Sirloin with Chimichurri

I don’t know if it’s the cold weather or an iron deficiency trying to communicate with me, but I’ve recently found myself intensely craving steak. Not to mention that I’ve finally learned how to cook it exactly how I order at a restaurant (medium rare), and it didn't involve setting off the smoke alarm (let’s hope that was a one time occurrence) or a 2-day bout of food poisoning from undercooking. My vegetarian-leaning self has finally learned how to flawlessly prepare bovine meat, and now, I can’t get enough; specifically, this Pan-seared Sirloin with Chimichurri. 

I’ve shied away from learning how to cook steak in the past—as if because I rarely ate it I wasn’t worthy of knowing how to prepare it—assuming I was inherently set up to fail. Previously, I’d nervously overcook a piece of meat, making sure I paired it with a flavorful sauce to cover up any of my missteps. Only with a little bit of research did I figure out a few essentials for proper steak cooking. How simple the basic principles are!

1. Temperature matters. Bringing steak to room temperature an hour before cooking ensures optimal heat penetration to the middle.

2. Seasoning matters. A generous rub of salt, pepper, and olive oil will suffice.
3. Flipping matters. Turning the steak every minute promotes an even sear.
4. Resting matters the most. Letting the steak sit for five minutes, plus half the cook-time, lets it finish cooking properly after being removed from the heat.

The last step is arguably the most important because there’s nothing more disappointing than an overcooked slab of beef. Trust me on this one—the steak needs to sit to finish cooking through.

Adding to this enthusiasm was my discovery of Piedmontese heritage beef at the Union Square Greenmarket, produced by Stony Mountain Ranch (full market schedule here). Although Stony Mountain Ranch’s cattle is raised in Pennsylvania, the breed is originally from the Piedmont region of Italy, known for having the best beef in the country due to its supreme succulence and super lean disposition. This desirable combination is a result of the cows’ genetics: Piedmontese cattle naturally carry a unique gene that reduces fat yet improves tenderness. And while the beef is genetically lower in total fat than other breeds, it also has the highest percentage of good polyunsaturated fats within that total fat. Think omega-3s like DPA and DHA. On top of that, its exclusively grass-fed. If looking for a healthy breed, you’ve found your guy.

The quick and easy chimichurri sauce hails for Gjelina, one of my favorite cookbooks for condiments and vegetables. For me, it’s essential for a chimichurri to have the right oil to vinegar ratio—not too slick, not too tart—and this one delivers exceptionally, dotted with spices that accent the grassiness of the herbs.

Pan-seared Sirloin with Chimichurri
Makes 1 ½ cup chimichurri

Ingredients:
Grass-fed, tender cut of steak (i.e. rib-eye, tenderloin, porterhouse, T-bone, skirt steak, top sirloin, filet mignon. Budget 6 ounces, or a little more than 1/3 lb, per person)

1 bunch fresh cilantro, stemmed and chopped
½ bunch fresh flat-leaf parsley, stemmed and chopped
1 Tbsp dried oregano
1 tsp smoked paprika
½ shallot, minced
½ cup extra-virgin olive oil (can use less if desired)
Kosher salt
Freshly ground lack pepper
1 Tbsp red wine vinegar

Directions:
1. Make the chimichurri. In a medium bowl, combine the cilantro, parsley, oregano, paprika, shallot, and olive oil and stir. Allow to stand at room temperature for about 20 minutes. Just before serving, add red wine vinegar. Season with salt and pepper.

2. Make the steak. Heat a hot cast iron pan with oil, and follow the 4 steps above! A medium rare steak should cook for 6 minutes (flipping every minute), and rest for 8 minutes before serving.

Miso Harissa Delicata Squash

Before you accuse me of a typo in the first two ingredients of this recipe—um hello questionable kveller, don't tell me you mean to intentionally combine the all-encompassing umami Asian flavor of miso with the distinctly spicy, capsicum essence of Moroccan cuisine's harissa?— let me assure you it is not. Ever since I saw these two incongruous tastes paired together in Miso Harissa Delicata Squash, I've had my eye on this recipe. Last weekend I came across all the main ingredients at the Greenmarket—kale, radishes, and fingerling potatoes play a supporting role in addition to the delicata namesake— so it was finally time to fulfill my curiosity of the marriage of these bold, distinctly different flavors. The result was a dazzling, daring flavor bomb of spicy, sweet, and salty that transformed these sometimes overplayed fall-forward vegetables into an exciting and edgy novel dish.

It's simple, really. The salad is very good. And the fact that it's dressed in an unusual blend of known, but rarely mixed, flavors makes it even better. There is sweet, thanks to the inherently honeyed delicata squash and sugary miso; and there is earthy, thanks to the starchy potatoes and bitter kale. These two profiles play beautifully off each other, ensconced in tinges of harissa components cumin, coriander, and chili pepper. Biting radishes and toasted seeds give crunch to the tender baked vegetables. The salad is best served warm, though room temperature is fine, too.

The recipe is extremely efficient with its time allotment. You can prepare all remaining ingredients while the squash and potatoes are roasting, so upon their completion (which is only 25 minutes, not the protracted 50 minutes of a sweet potato or spaghetti squash) everything else is already sitting in one large bowl. Their transfer finishes the recipe.

The hearty dish feels like a main, so I added a can of chickpeas for protein to secure that title. The original recipe calls for roasted almonds, but I subbed in the toasted seeds from the delicata. If you don't want to roast those seeds but stay in the squash family, toasted pepitas also suffice. One more note: I doubled all the vegetables (reflected in recipe) but used the called-for amount of harissa/miso, as both ingredients are very pungent. I thought the vegetables were dressed just right, so I suggest erring on the side of less harissa and miso. You can always add more once the vegetables have roasted.

Miso Harissa Delicata Squash (from 101 Cookbooks)

Ingredients:

1 lb small fingerling potatoes, washed and dried
1 1/2 lb delicata squash
1/4 c extra virgin olive oil (OK to use less)
1/4 c white miso*
1-2 Tbsp harissa paste*
3 Tbsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
1/2 bunch kale, de-stemmed and finely chopped
4 radishes, very thinly sliced
1/8 c toasted delicta squash seeds, pepitas, or Marcona almonds

1 16 oz can chickpeas, drained (optional)

*Both of these ingredients are available at mainstream markets like Whole Foods and Fairway. For those who live in NYC, try Taim harissa paste. It's the best!

Directions:
1. Preheat the oven to 400F degrees. If the potatoes aren't tiny, slice them into pieces no larger than your thumb. Cut the delicata squash in half length-wise, and use a spoon to clear out all the seeds. Cut into 1/2-inch wide half-moons. You can leave the peel on these squash.

2. In a small bowl whisk together olive oil, miso, harissa. Place the potatoes and squash in a large bowl with 1/3 cup of the miso-harissa oil. Use your hands to toss well, then turn everything out onto a baking sheet. Bake until everything is baked through and browned, about 25-30 minutes. Toss once or twice along the way after things start to brown a bit. Keep an eye on things though, you can go from browned to burned in a flash.

3. In the meantime, whisk the lemon juice into the remaining miso-harissa oil. Taste, it should be intensely flavorful, but if yours is too spicy or salty, you can dilute it with a bit more olive oil or lemon juice. Stir the kale into the leftover dressing and set aside.

4. Place the warm roasted vegetables in a bowl and toss with the kale mixture, radishes, seeds/almonds, and chickpeas (if using).

Spaghetti Squash with Market Tomato Sauce and Turkey Sausage

Two years ago, I abandoned my quest for the perfect tomato sauce recipe because I found it in a jar. It is Cucina Antica Spicy Arrabbiata, par excellence thanks to robust flavor, whole ingredients, and absence of excess sugar or salt.  I use it for everything, from chicken parmigiana to Shakshouka.

At the Greenmarket, gourds, pumpkins, and Indian corn carouse Autumn’s arrival front and center, but I couldn’t help notice the cornucopia of late-season tomatoes, ripe and bursting in a myriad of shapes and size, that populated the tents.  As excited as I was to jump on the season’s first delicata or acorn squash, I knew these guys would stick around for months, while the tomatoes were approaching final harvest. A raw preparation seemed to a la summer, and I craved a slow-cooked concoction. As I surveyed the rest of the produce, picking at my ratatouille sample courtesy of National Gourmet Institute, it came to me. I would make a ratatouille-inspired marinara sauce! A fabulously chunky, tomato-based fusion of early Fall’s best offerings: slow cooked tomatoes, carrots and red peppers; riddled with fresh basil and thyme.  Part French country, party Italian basic. The sauce would dress spaghetti squash noodles, and accompany DiPaola Turkey Farm hot turkey sausage.

I used Mollie Katzen’s Moosewood Italian Tomato Sauce for the basic recipe, and the end result was outstanding. The carrots and peppers added a sweet, complex flavor to the late season tomatoes, so that the sauce felt unique and interesting without straying too far from a classic marinara flavor.  Notes of hot red chili and fennel from the sausage added a burst of heat to the mild sauce.

The red sauce is a bit time consuming, which is why I fervently recommend you gather a giant haul of market tomatoes and make a huge batch at once. It will keep in the refrigerator for over a week, and in the freezer indefinitely.

If you are a vegetarian? Substitute cannellini beans for turkey sausage.

If you are feeling creative? Add late summer squash, sundried tomatoes, capers, or olives to the mix.

If you are lazy? Sautee onions, carrots, red pepper, garlic, and thyme for eight minutes. Add it to your favorite jarred tomato sauce.

If you are in a time crunch? Substitute spaghetti squash noodles for zucchini noodles, which take only minutes to cook.

If you are human? You can’t deny the undeniable power of a good spaghetti and meatballs…consider this its evolution of sorts. A healthier, more flavorful, locally-sourced cousin of everyone’s beloved classic dish.

 

Spaghetti Squash with Market Tomato Sauce and Turkey Sausage (inspired by Mollie Katzen)

Serves 4

Ingredients:

1 large spaghetti squash

2 to 3 Tbsp olive oil

1 cup chopped yellow onion

2 red peppers (sweet or bell), diced

1 carrot, diced

5 large tomatoes, such as Jersey or beefsteak, chopped

¾ cup loosely packed basil leaves

1 Tbsp fresh thyme

1 tsp dried oregano

½ cup tomato paste

½ cup red wine, or, 1 Tbsp honey or sugar

4 garlic cloves, minced

Salt & pepper

10 to 12 oz turkey sausage

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Cut the spaghetti squash in half, lengthwise, and place (cut sides down) on a baking sheet covered with aluminum foil lightly coated in olive oil. Bake for 45 minutes.

2. While the spaghetti squash is cooking, prepare the sauce. Heat olive oil in a Dutch over or large skillet. Add onion, pepper, carrot, thyme, oregano, and 1 tsp salt. Sauté over medium heat until the onion is soft, 8 to 10 minutes.

3. Add tomatoes, tomato paste, wine/honey/sugar, and black pepper. Bring to a boil, then lower heat and simmer, partially covered, for 20 to 30 minutes.

4. While the sauce is simmering, cooking the sausage. Heat 1 Tbsp olive oil in a medium sized skillet, and cook sausage, turning frequently until it is browned on all sides and cooked through in the middle, about 10 minutes. Set aside.

5. Add garlic to the sauce, and cook about 10 minutes more. The sauce will have a loose, chunky consistency, but if you desire a more uniform thickness, take an immersion blender to the pot once it has cooled a bit. Stir in basil leaves.

6. To serve: scrape out the seeds of the spaghetti squash and discard. Using a fork, scrape out the flesh of the squash—it will dislodge in spaghetti-like strands—distributing evenly amongst four plates (each squash half serves two). Top each plate with two heaping spoonfuls of sauce, and turkey sausage cut into pieces of ½ inch thickness. Garnish with extra basil or thyme, and enjoy with a side of thick, toasted whole grain bread.

Indian Tofu With Lambsquarters

In the history of vegetables, never has one seen such drastic fall from grace than lambsquarters. In ancient times, this leafy green nutrient powerhouse was so highly revered for its vitamins, minerals, and plentifulness that settlements were named after it; colloquially, it was dubbed "all good." Dating back to the late-glacial period, the abundant edible plant remained a staple foodstuff of the Neolithic, Bronze Age, early Iron Age, and Roman peoples. In other words, almost every significant era of prosperity and growth in ancient civilization relied on a diet inclusive of lambsquarters.

And now? The prolific perennial grows rampant in household gardens, labeled an annoying weed to the chagrin of all who maintain them. To fully grasp the magnitude of dislike for lambsquarters, just look to its nicknames: pigweed, fat-hen, goosefoot, bacon weed, dirty Dick, and Much Hill weed are all monikers for the detested plant (officially named Chenopodium album). Oh dear. Lambsquarters, the latter centuries of the past 10,000 years have not treated you well. You are a pariah in a leafy green loving society, the antithesis of your leader, kale. Is there any possibility of redemption?

Here in New York, a small beacon of hope shines for lambsquarters thanks to the efforts of Lani's Farm. Located in New Jersey with a weekly spot at the Union Square Greenmarket, the farm grows popular leafy greens like spinach, broccoli rabe, and collard greens in addition to an abundance of lesser known potherbs such as mitsuba greens, ruby streaks, dandelion, and our runt of the litter, lambsquarters. The farmstand offers a weekly cooking demo to encourage acceptance of the more obscure varieties, sautéing most greens in nothing more than a hint of oil, wild garlic, salt and pepper. The fresh greens are always unequivocally delicious, and what pushed me to abandon my usual swiss chard purchase and dabble with lambsquarters last month.

"Use it exactly like spinach," the produce purveyor told me. While the preparation may be the same, the nutrient profiles slightly differ— lambsquarters actually outclasses its superfood cousin with greater amounts of protein, calcium, phosphorus, iron, vitamin C, A, and B2. One cup of lambsquarters houses 73% of your daily suggested vitamin A intake and 96% vitamin of C, elevating the leafy green to superduper status.

Per instruction, I did a simple swap of spinach for lambsquarters in Martha Rose Shulman's Indian Tofu with Spinach recipe, a quick and easy nutrient and flavor-packed weeknight dinner. The sturdy stalks and husky leaves didn't wilt as much as spinach, giving the dish a much-appreciate texture boost. The lambsquarters were fantastic; at first bite, I had totally jumped on the Neolithic bandwagon. Pesky weed, how dare you!? Lambsquarters is going down as a superduperfood in my book, with "epic comeback" written all over it.

Indian Tofu with Lambsquarters (from New York Times)

Serves 4

Ingredients:

¾ pound firm tofu, cut into 1 inch cubes
2 tablespoons canola oil
½ cup coarsely chopped shallot or red onion
4 lengthwise slices peeled fresh ginger (2 inches long, 1 inch wide, 1/8 inch thick), coarsely chopped
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
½ teaspoon fennel seeds
2 whole dried red chilies, like Thai, cayenne or arbol
1 tablespoon coriander seeds, ground
Salt to taste
¼ teaspoon cayenne
¼ teaspoon ground turmeric
1½ pounds fresh lambsquarters, rinsed thoroughly, stems trimmed, and roughly chopped (or any other dark leafy green)
½ cup drained yogurt
¼ teaspoon cornstarch

Directions:
1. Drain the tofu on paper towels. Heat 1 tablespoon of the oil over medium-high heat in a wok or a large, heavy lidded skillet and add the tofu. Stir-fry until golden brown and remove from the heat.

2. Combine the shallot or onion and the ginger in a food processor or mini-chop and blend until finely minced, almost a paste.

3. Heat the remaining oil over medium-high heat in a wok or skillet and add the cumin seeds, fennel seeds and whole chilies. Cook, stirring, for about 15 seconds, or until the spices are fragrant and reddish-brown. Add the onion and ginger and stir-fry until it is lightly browned, about 3 minutes. Add the coriander, salt, cayenne and turmeric, stir for about 10 seconds and add the lambsquarters in batches, adding the next batch after the first batch wilts and stirring and scraping the bottom of the pan to deglaze.

4. Stir in the tofu, cover, reduce the heat to medium-low and simmer, stirring occasionally, for 2 to 3 minutes, until the lambsquarters is uniformly wilted and the tofu is warmed through.

5. Whisk the cornstarch into the yogurt. Remove the pan from the heat, remove the chilies, and stir in the yogurt. Taste, adjust salt and serve with rice or other grains.

References: 1. Blair, Katrina. "Wild Edibles: How to Use Lambsquarter From Root to Seed." Mother Earth News. Ogden Publications, Inc., Dec. 2014. Web. 15 June 2016. 2. Pollard, Jean Ann. "Lambsquarters: Prince of Wild Greens." Maine Organic Farmers and Gardeners Association. Maine Organic Farmers and Gardeners Association, n.d. Web. 15 June 2016.

Turkey & Zucchini Burgers with Spring Onion & Cumin

Burger lovers and green veggie lovers, rejoice! In a rare display of connubiality, these two epicurean entities have joined together to create one deliciously verdant turkey burger. Be gone, obligatory thin, sad slices of iceberg lettuce and tomato; measly dollop of sautéed mushrooms and onion passing implausibly as an appropriate serving of vegetables. Finally, a recipe to show that vegetables have the ability to enhance, not hinder, a traditional carnivorous burger.

They've got the right idea across the pond. In Ottolenghi's Turkey & Zucchini Burgers with Spring Onion & Cumin, ample shredded zucchini, scallions, herbs, and spices breathe seasonally-appropriate vitality into the petite patties, little in size but certainly not in flavor.  Slather in ketchup, you will not: these viridescent burgers are accompanied by a rich, zesty yogurt-sumac dipping sauce, offering crisp acidity with the burger's flora. Another piece of brilliance by the Brits? They refer to zucchinis as courgettes.  Now, how much nobler does that make this burger sound?

I appreciated the recipe’s effort to keep the burger light; scant oil, absence of bread crumbs, and low-fat sour cream and yogurt all contribute to the dish feeling rich in flavor, only. (For those of you keeping Passover, this is a great recipe to make post-seder and keep for the week!) If you like tartness, I absolutely encourage you to invest in Sumac—it’s worth adding to your rotation of cooking spices—but the recipe definitely still works if you don’t happen to have it. Just make sure not to skimp on the added herbs and spices; these really give pop to the otherwise mild poultry meat.

Ottolenghi refers to the patties as “burgers”, but in reality, his suggested size is more like a meatball. The smaller surface area worked in my favor, because the cook time is minimal, and I was able to easily stuff 2 meatballs per pita-half, the insides of which I smeared with the yogurt sauce and then topped with Greek salad, like a falafel. While pairing with a carbohydrate like bread or bun is not essential, it certainly creates a hearty lunch or dinner—couscous or whole-grain rice are good alternatives, too.    

On the other end of the spectrum, halving the size of the meatballs (and adjusting cook time to match) makes then perfectly bite-sized for a crowd-pleasing appetizer. Stick each meatball with toothpick, and serve the dipping sauce in a bowl on the side. They won’t crumble or fall apart—in Jerusalem, Ottolenghi highlights the patties' portability.

So there you have it! A burger as green, vivacious, and exciting as Spring. Burger, meatball, or courgette-speckled spheroid; whatever you call it, prepare to be wholly satisfied with each bite.  

Turkey & Zucchini Burgers with Spring Onion & Cumin (from Jerusalem; amended slightly to skew towards the healthier)
Makes 12 to 16 meatball-sized burgers

Ingredients:

For the burgers:
1 lb ground turkey (I used Di Paola free-range, antibiotic-free white meat, but dark meat works too)
1 large zucchini, coarsely grated (about 2 cups)
3 scallions, thinly sliced
1 large egg
2 Tbsp chopped mint
2 Tbsp chopped cilantro
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1 tsp ground cumin

½ tsp salt

½ tsp freshly ground black pepper
½ tsp cayenne pepper
3-4 Tbsp neutral oil, like canola or sunflower, for searing

For the yogurt-sumac sauce:
½ cup sour cream* (preferably low fat)
2/3 cup Greek yogurt (preferably low fat)
1 tsp grated lemon zest
1 tbsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 small clove garlic, crushed
1½ Tbsp olive oil
1 Tbsp sumac
½ tsp salt

¼ tsp freshly ground black pepper

*Option to omit sour cream completely and use ½ cup extra Greek yogurt instead.
Directions:

1. Make the yogurt-sumac sauce. Place all ingredients in a small bowl, stir well, and set aside or chill until needed.
2. Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F. In a large bowl, combine all the ingredients for the meatballs except the oil. Mix with your hands and then shape into burgers, each weighing about 1½ oz.
3. Pour 1-2 Tbsp oil into a large frying pan. Heat over medium heat until hot, then sear the meatballs in batches on all sides. Cook each batch for about 4 minutes, adding oil as needed, until golden brown.
4. Carefully transfer seared meatballs to a baking sheet lined with non-stick foil.  Place in the oven for 5 to 7 minutes, or until just cooked through. Serve warm or at room temperature, with the sauce spooned over or on the side.