Tastes Like Chicken Pt. 2

My fascination with foods that look different but taste exactly the same continues with the glorious summer squash. More precisely, it's called the pattypan squash. Pattypans look like the mutant lovechild of citrus and zucchini squished into a mini-tart mold. And they taste just like zucchini.

I had some recently at the Jamie Kennedy Wine Bar, served with some ridiculously juicy pork sausages. I fell in love with their shape (I'm already a fan of zucchini so it follows that I was already in love with their taste). To my delight, the farmer's market had some in yellow and green.

My favorite thing about the yellow pattypan is that nub of green at the tip, plus when you slice into them, they have a faint tinge of green amidst the yellow flesh. It's such a gorgeous color that I wish I could wear it. As you can see, even one of my cats was drawn them as I tried to take a picture.

Also like a zucchini, they don't lose their color when you cook them. Through the heat, they keep their lemon/lime brightness as the bitterness softens and becomes more mellow.

Garlic seemed like a perfect complement. And the color made me want to include some lime juice. I had some fresh kale on hand (from the garden of my occasional co-contributor, Lynn). Everything just fell into place and the end result was the salad below.

Pretty Pattypan Salad
Serves 4

1 Tbsp butter
1 Tbsp olive oil
4 cloves garlic (more if you're a garlic fiend like I am), minced
1 quart pattypan squashes, halved or quartered if very large
6-8 large kale leaves, coarsely chopped
lime wedges
salt and pepper to taste

1. Heat the butter and oil over medium heat in a large skillet.
2. Sweat the minced garlic until just starting to brown.
3. Add the pattypans and kale. Sauté until softened and lightly seared.
4. Squeeze some lime juice over the salad and season with salt and pepper to taste.
   

Tastes Like Chicken

I'm a little flustered to learn that it has been over 3 weeks since my last post and just over 3 months before my unofficial deadline for publication. It's not a "real" deadline because I don't have any publishers banging on my door to get it done. I just know what an incorrigible procrastinator I am without a fire lit under my ass.

So it's time to get back to work. Or play... Cooking and photographing for this blog really doesn't feel like work. Despite the fact that I was far too busy, ill or distracted to post anything in weeks, it doesn't mean I haven't been messing about in the kitchen. If anything, I'm daunted by the sheer volume of pictures and recipes that are now backlogged.

One of my favorite photos is probably this one: rainbow radishes purchased from the local farmer's market. They look like gumballs or jawbreakers. They're just begging to be mixed with other colors and eaten raw (boiling them would drain them of their sprightly color and rob them of their fresh crunch).

Of course they don't taste like candy. If anything, they taste exactly like the regular radishes that most people carve up to use as garnishes. It tastes the same... it "tastes like chicken", which is the generic thing people say when describing most meats.

Some of you pragmatic people may be wondering why anyone would bother growing or eating rainbow radishes. Why spend an extra few pennies to buy something that tastes exactly the same as boring ol' red radishes?

My answers to that are (1) inspiration and (2) fun. It's not often that radishes get the star treatment in a dish, but looking at these orbs of color, I knew a radish salad was in order.

Better yet, the farmer's market was selling the bunch with the leaves and stems still attached. I honestly don't understand why anybody chops off the stems of most vegetables. Asians eat pretty much the entire plant, from root to leafy tip. In some cases the stems and greens are even tastier than the vegetable.

Whole (Rainbow) Radish Salad
Serves 2

a handful of radishes (about ½ cup or less), thinly sliced with leaves washed separately
2 oranges, segmented and the remaining membrane reserved
4 Tbsp good quality olive oil
a handful of crumbled blue cheese
salt to taste

1. Lightly stir fry the radish leaves for a minute or two until wilted but not turned to mush.
2. Toss the radish slices, radish leaves, and orange segments together in a bowl.
3. Squeeze out the orange juice from the reserved membrane.
   
4. Whisk together no more than 2 Tbsp of the orange juice and olive oil then drizzle over the salad.
5. Sprinkle the crumbled cheese and salt on top, then serve.

Note: I would add chopped cilantro if available, or perhaps replace the blue cheese with some goat cheese. Adding ½ tsp of Dijon mustard to the dressing would add an interesting complexity to the flavors.

This recipe is quite spare so if you have ideas for more ingredients, let me know!