Spring

It’s funny how things come together in the kitchen. This week I’ve had lots of fingerling potatoes lying around, as I’ve been developing recipes with them for Vegetarian Times magazine. As it happens, I also treated myself yesterday to a watercress gathering excursion. Nice to be out in the quiet of the early morning under clearing skies, walking along a damp compost-y path beneath a gradually thickening canopy of budding branches. (Buds—finally.) I had my little scissors, a bag, and my camera. Sadly, I couldn’t linger long—lots of recipe testing scheduled for the day. But I crouched low in the black mud, hung over the stream, and snipped enough crisp clusters of Leprechaun-green watercress to fill my bag. And then reluctantly carried on my way. Retreating out of the cool forest, I heard the buzz of cars on the roadway calling me out of my reverie.

Back home at lunch time (after another recipe test—Asian slaw), I looked at the fingerlings and the watercress and thought: Warm salad. It’s no secret that my favorite way to cook fingerlings is brown-braising. But right then, I wanted instant gratification, and I looked at the little knobby potatoes and thought slicing them into coins and quick-roasting them would get me my hit. Sure enough, the little coins were golden on the outside, moist on the inside after 20 minutes at 450 degrees.

One of the wonderful aspects of living in Southern California is the weather. The weather affords us to be outdoors more than indoors, avoiding heavy boots and jackets, and perusing the local farmers market even on those rare days when there may be a light sprinkle in the air.

Last weekend, I hit up two of my favorite markets; the Saturday, Santa Monica Farmers Market and the Sunday, Brentwood Farmers Market. Saturday I loaded up on fruit (my two boys ate 2 of the 3 baskets of strawberries before we got to the car) and on Sunday my bags were brimming with veggies (and some Pupusa’s from the Pupusa guy – Levi loves them in his lunch box).

I am boring when it comes to artichokes. Either steamed with a bit of lemon rind and some peppercorns or grilled. I decided to mix it up and fry them…yes, fry! Covered in olive oil, some whole garlic cloves and a bundle of fresh oregano (from my garden), I must say, I made a very tasty treat. Sprinkled with a little sea salt as they were draining and then smothered in this shallot vinaigrette – they didn’t make it to the dinner table that night. They were eaten, standing up.

Oftentimes simplicity is the answer to most everything. Simple recipes with ingredients cooked in an unadulterated way yield very flavorful and inspiring results. For me that's always the case when cooking fish. Here I'm always reminded of the story of Julia Child's culinary revelation, when she is presented with a sole Meunière at a restaurant where she and Paul are dining after arriving in France. Most of us has read about this or has seen it in the movie Julie and Julia. Can it be so simple that a dish of sautéed fish with butter sauce inspired her to cook? Yes!

Here is my take on that sole dish but served with woodland mushrooms. On a recent Greenmarket trip I purchased a handful of beautiful chanterelles from Honey Hollow Farm, which forages its mushrooms from the wild in Middleburgh, N.Y. These mushrooms are one of the more pricey varieties, but their delicate flavor is worth it. That flavor is best maintained with simple cooking methods. That's why I sauté them in butter. Pair them with a seared mild fish such as sole along with a buttery sauce and it makes for a very nice meal. I bet Julia would have loved this dish for dinner any day of the week.

Pesto isn't just for basil, though traditionally that's what pesto is made of. The word pesto itself means "pounded" in Italian. Famous in Genoa, the pesto of basil, pine nuts, Parmesan and olive oil is a delicious sauce on pasta. But many herbs and/or greens can take the place of basil to create a flavorful pesto. In the past I've made it with parsley, cilantro and even ramp greens. This time I've made a pesto from radish greens.

It may sound crazy but I love using up every last remnant of vegetables. It's not unlike saving vegetables scraps for stock. I mean why throw anything away when it's good for flavor? Radish leaves are not only on the radish for show, they're very much edible as a pesto or even sautéed and tossed with pasta. They offer up a unique fresh and peppery flavor that enlivens the palate.

The next time you buy a bunch of radishes, save the greens and use them—you'll be pleasantly surprised. Try the pesto spread on sandwiches, mixed into pasta, or used as a sauce on pizza in place of tomato sauce.