Winter

Just when I thought fava beans had a lot of names, along comes the kiwifruit (kiwi) originally known as the Chinese Gooseberry. It's also known as the Macaque peach, the vine pear, the sunny peach, the hairy bush fruit, and my personal favorite, "strange fruit."

Call it what you will. Just make sure you eat these edible berries. The kiwifruit is the edible berry of the cultivar group of the woody vine Actinidia deliciosa and hybrids between this and other species in the genus Actinidia, which is native to Shaanxi, China. But who doesn't already know that?

Kiwis are grown in mild climates all over the world. Surprisingly, New Zealand is not the leading world producer of their famed fruit. The land of pasta, balsamic vinegar, and buffalo mozzarella is – Italy. Though I wouldn't recommend eating kiwi with any of the aforementioned foods.

Kiwis are both delicious and nutritious. With a flavor that tastes like a mix of citrus, grapes, strawberries, and bananas, a kiwi is both sweet and tart. Though the hairy outer skin is edible, I'd advise against eating it. That is, unless you really need the fiber – a kiwi's fiber is tripled with the skin on. If you do eat it, then have a new container of dental floss at the ready. You'll need it.

Homemade vinaigrettes just taste better and it's really worth the extra few minutes it takes to shake up a batch in jar.

I like to use this recipe during the winter, when there are lots of great citrus fruits to choose from in the grovery store.

Blood oranges, clemetines, or any favorite orange make a nice additiion to this simple green salad and compliment the marmalade in the vinaigrette.

Sometimes, you just don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. Take my boyfriend, Roy, for example. I’m sure when he met me, he had no idea that one day he’d be standing around the kitchen island (which he built for me) with seven spoons and a heap of roasted squash in front of him. Fortunately, what I didn’t know (but suspected) when I met him, is that he’s a really good sport. Last Sunday, he agreed to do the winter squash taste test with me. Lucky him.

I dreamed up this little experiment after we found ourselves in possession of several different kinds of winter squash. I’ve loved taste comparisons ever since I was introduced to them at culinary school years ago. We did a lot of them at Fine Cooking, too, in order to recommend brands of chicken stock or canned tomatoes or olive oil to cooks. The worst taste test we ever did was butter. Tasting 8 different brands of butter in one morning will make anyone feel sick. The best? Bittersweet chocolate, of course. In fact, I’ve learned so much about flavor differences in both natural and manmade products over the years from taste tests, that I’m constantly urging other cooks to conduct their own at home.

Me and my big ideas. Take rutabagas. I thought it would be just nifty to plant a row of these, late in the season, to use in our winter kitchen. (You can keep them right in the soil—how handy!) They’d be exclusively for us, not for the farm stand. Like the onions. Yes, but onions are a tad more versatile than rutabagas, you might point out. Duh.

There are only so many rutabagas one can eat. It’s not even November and Roy is already looking a little rutabaga-weary. And this despite the fact that miraculously, Roy, who is not a huge veggie lover, is not turnip-averse. (Rutabagas are basically big, purple-skinned, yellow-fleshed turnips.)

I guess I got all rutabaga-smug because I figured I knew a bunch of tasty ways to cook them. This week, in fact, I slipped some into a potato gratin, and that was a definite hit. (Couldn’t have had anything to do with the cream and cheese.) And one of my favorite techniques—slowly caramelizing root vegetables in a crowded pan—works wonders on rutabagas, so I’ve been using this trick frequently. And Fall Veggie Minestrone is another great destination for rutabagas.