Winter

If it’s January, I must be cooking Broccoflower. I picked some up at the grocery the other day because, frankly, our vegetable larder of turnips, rutabagas, kale, and beets is starting to freak me out. Plus, I can never resist the lime-green color of Broccoflower, and I love its nutty flavor when browned, too. (Also, since we live in a small town and I shop at the same small grocery store every day after my post-office run, I’m beginning to worry that people might think we have a really unhealthy diet, since I rarely buy vegetables at the store any more. Checking out with Roy’s donuts, some Lucky Charms for Libby, and maybe some chocolate chips for me makes me a little self-conscious! Hence the need for the occasional head of Broccoflower.)

I’ve sautéed, roasted, stir-fried and quick-braised Broccoflower, but it’s very cold here today and I thought a ragoût would be satisfying. (When I say it’s cold today, I mean it’s calling-all-mice-inside cold. This morning a mouse was in the compost bowl in the pantry. He’d fallen in, obviously in search of yumminess, but since there was little more than coffee grinds and egg shells to feast on—anything green is going to the chickens or Cocoa Bunny right now—he’d tried to scamper back up the sides of the aluminum bowl. No luck. Roy switched on the light about 6:30 and left the little mouse to do a roller derby around the bowl until I got up. I put him back outside (tipping the bowl to let him escape), where he will most likely find his way straight back inside the house tonight. I feel a little bit like Fred Flintstone putting Dino outside the back door. Oh, well. At least Libby is not here to insist on a warm bed for Mousey.)

If it wasn't for citrus fruit, winter's selection of produce would be pretty sad and boring. Once you've had your share of squashes and root vegetables, it's time for something different. Citrus offers a welcome respite. When markets begin to overflow with oranges, lemons, limes, and grapefruit, things finally get exciting. You may even see unusual citruses, such as blood oranges, tangelos, and pomelos. I love them all, but I particularly adore the sweet-tart flavor of grapefruits. This time of year, they replace my apple-a-day routine. But grapefruits aren't just for a dessert or snack, they shine in savory dishes, like this salad.

The classic fennel and grapefruit salad is a wonderful combination. Crunchy and sweet anise-flavored fennel goes well with the tart citrus flavor of grapefruit. This recipe reinvents the salad by adding wheat berries for a wholesome twist. The actual grains of wheat—the berries, as they are called—come in hard and soft varieties, where the hard is higher in protein and the soft higher in starch. Both work fine in this recipe. Once cooked, the berries are chewy on the outside, but tender on the inside. Enjoy them as a side dish like a pilaf or add them to any salad. They are especially nice in this recipe as they absorb the vinaigrette and grapefruit juices.

Velvety smooth, thick and creamy, soft and spreadable, sweet and tart — all characteristics of a good lemon curd. Every year around this time, I pull out my favorite recipe for lemon curd. Last week, I adapted that recipe to create a mouth-watering bowl of mango curd. A kiss of citrus from lemon and lime juices gives this creamy tropical curd just enough tartness to balance the sweet-as-honey mango.

Spread this Mango Curd on scones, banana muffins or bran muffins. Use it to fill tiny tarts or little thumbprint cookies. Sandwich it between butter cookies or spread it on shortbread.

Mango Curd is quite sublime with Tropical Mango Baby Cakes. I baked the cake batter in mini-bundt pans. The next batch of batter was baked in traditional cupcake tins. The cupcakes can be cut through the middle to form two layers. The Mango Curd is a perfect filling. Sprinkle the little cakes with powdered sugar and they are ready to eat.

Some drinks are just good. Some drinks are good stories with provenance. Some drinks are all the above!

My Mimi’s people are from the southwest corner of Georgia. Many of her Bainbridge cookbooks are part of my treasured library of culinary literature. Mimi loves to read them and be reminded of all the loved ones she knew growing up and the delicacies they served from their sideboards. This recipe comes from one of these beloved bindings of culinary delights.

But like any good Southern dish, there is a story with this one. Mimi has made this drink for us many a time while growing up and particularly in the wintertime. With truckloads of Florida’s citrus crop crossing the state line and popping up for sale on street corner, farm stands, and markets, oranges and other various and sundry citruses are at their peak. This drink is fantastic with the freshest of Florida’s finest, and I now serve it with a bit of history too.