Deliciously fragrant home-grown leeks given to me by a neighbor friend last week
Photo: Chronica Domus
The recent and much welcomed rain we have experienced here in northern California has put the late-winter vegetable garden into overdrive. The arugula planted from seed last summer is still going strong. In fact, it has become positively wild, running amok and sprouting peppery leaves in abundance. The piquant bounty is always a welcome addition to the salad bowl where it peps up the milder flavored lettuces.
Back in November, I planted six Tuscan kale seedlings that have matured to an impressive size. Brassica oleracea, to give it its botanical name, is an heirloom variety that was once favored by Thomas Jefferson and grown at Monticello as early as 1777. I can well understand why. This particular kale looks exceedingly graceful as it stretches skyward in its slender dark-green finery. The taste, by the way, is delicious.
Tuscan Kale
Photo: Chronica Domus
The Red Russian kale I planted in the fertile soil alongside its darker cousin has reached its peak with bountiful and appetizing results. This too is an heirloom, boasting painterly purple spines and broad scalloped leaves.
Red Russian kale was introduced to Canada from Siberia by Russian traders in 1885
Photo: Chronica Domus
I'm afraid the impressive kale plants have had to suffer some embarrassingly weedy bed fellows. Below are my very feeble-looking leeks, appearing more akin to diminutive scallions than the statuesque vegetable they are supposed to resemble.
Oh dear, what can the matter be,
two dozen leeks refuse to grow up you see
two dozen leeks refuse to grow up you see
Photo: Chronica Domus
The leeks were started by my good friend and neighbor Gavin, who gave them to me in October and encouraged me to plant them. He promised the leeks would be easy to cultivate. Last week, Gavin came by for dinner and generously shared his home-grown bounty of fragrant leeks with us. I show them in the photograph at the onset of this post. I was agog to discover we had planted our leeks around the same time. As can be clearly seen, the outcome differed wildly to my own. Gavin is convinced that my stunted plants have been denied adequate sunlight for they lurk in shade for much of the day. I suspect he is correct in his diagnosis. Ah well, we tireless gardeners live and learn and are constantly humbled by Mother Nature's tomfoolery.
With copious amounts of kale and Gavin's beautiful leeks at hand, I took the opportunity to cook up a batch of Colcannon, a traditional Irish dish that is a marvelous comfort food during the cooler months of the year. According to the Oxford Companion of Food, Colcannon was introduced to England during the eighteenth century where it soon, surprisingly, became a favorite of the upper classes. I say surprisingly because the primary ingredient of Colcannon is the humble potato, a vegetable surely enjoyed by all classes of society. Perhaps it was the addition of costly cream and butter that precluded the poorer classes from enjoying it as often as the rest of society. By the mid-nineteenth century, Americans came to know the dish through the recent influx of immigrants from Ireland.
Colcannon can be made with whatever greens one has on hand and very often includes either cabbage or kale, scallions, leeks, and onions.
A trug full of delicious Red Russian Kale freshly picked from the vegetable garden
Photo: Chronica Domus
I followed the recipe found here, but added three of Gavin's medium-sized leeks which I sliced thinly and cooked in butter until lightly browned. I then added that to the kale and scallions. I believe the flavorsome leeks really enhance the earthy taste of Colcannon.
The kale, leek, and scallion mixture take but a few minutes to cook
Photo: Chronica Domus
Ah, something smells good!
Photo: Chronica Domus
Colcannon is an excellent substitute for plain Jane mashed potatoes. It is also an extremely tasty way of meeting one's daily vegetable eating allowance, which is especially handy for those picky junior diners that would rather push away their greens than eat them. Thank goodness my own daughter falls firmly into Oliver Twist's "more please" camp.
Photo: Chronica Domus
It's interesting how only very few restaurants serve this properly - a few gastro pubs and a few "British" style michelin restaurants but oddly I always think it is a kiddie dish bc who doesn't love mash and it is a great way to hide the veg almost? What a healthy dish unless you pour in the butter and cream. I always need to add paprika and the like otherwise i have been known to use a whole slab of butter.
ReplyDeleteYou are so lucky to have a veggie patch though and I wish I did!
Hello Naomi,
DeleteThe last time I saw Colcannon on a menu was was at The Wolseley many years ago. I noticed it had disappeared from the menu when I last ate there in December.
Lashings of creamy butter and thick cream is a must, which does make Colcannon slightly less healthy, but all those greens should counteract the artery-clogging effects of the dairy.
Hello CD, You have such a green thumb, that I guess you can't complain too much about the leeks. The last time I was in Cleveland in the springtime, wild leeks (often called ramps) were literally carpeting the woods.
ReplyDeleteYour colcannon recipe looks so good that I am taking it on my next trip home. I think it could be improved even further by not mashing the potatoes, but just dicing them or breaking them up, giving the dish more texture.
Have you noticed how much better people used to be at naming plant varieties--imagine how exotic Tuscan and Red Russian sounded in the Nineteenth century!
--Jim
Hello Jim,
DeleteNot sure if I would call it a green thumb exactly, but thank you. More like "hit and miss" would best describes my gardening antics.
I'm pleased you'll be trying the recipe for Colcannon because I know it will be a hit at your table. I agree about the texture, which is exactly how I make Colcannon; not too mushy (not sure if the photograph does the texture justice).
I would love to have input on naming a new variety of fruit or vegetable. As you say, such lovely names were conceived back when this stuff was new.
OH, you lucky gardeners who step out and gather dinner in February! I so miss that, as we've not had a real garden in perhaps five years, despite a fairly spacious spot out back. We had one year-of-downpours, the grass took heart and took over, and we simply resigned the spot to mower and swing.
ReplyDeleteAnd we haven't had tomatoes in the enormous pots in two years, either---somehow we just don't get things in the dirt like we used to. Our family had about three acres in garden, not including corn field and melon patch, when my children were growing up, and I truly didn't know how to cook straight out of a grocery store when we moved up here.
The Colcannon (which I've been craving, for some odd reason only slightly related---seeing the new Mrs. Carson on Downton, as she dipped and scraped a rather hesitantly-agreeable Bubble and Squeak onto the dinner plates reminded me that we've not had a cabbage/greens/potato dish in quite some time. Our favorite of that type this Winter has been plain old green cabbage and a large onion, sliced thin and stir-fried a bit, with the addition of soy, garlic and a drizzle of sesame oil, then tossed with an equal amount of al dente Farfalle---sublime pairing unbeknownst in Ireland, I'd think.
Your dinner looks delightful on a windy, cold night like this promises to be---the wind chimes and tree limbs are carrying on either concert or concerted effort to take flight all across the back porch, and I think a dish of some such cruciferous concoction would pair mighty well with the planks of fried cod.
Re: your lovely golden presentation: lighting, cheese or Yukons?
r
Hello racheld,
DeleteI used Yukons but often make Colcannon with Russets, both delicious to be sure. We ate this batch with some lovely fresh salmon and broccolini.
Three acres of garden sounds like a mighty tall order to keep going, my goodness! At lest you had the assistance of your children. Perhaps you can start it up again this spring, once the snow has melted. Imagine the possibilities for endless dinners on the fly!
Your cabbage dish sounds lovely and I may try it the next time I have some cabbage in the house, thank you.
CD,
ReplyDeleteYour kale inspired me to try my hand, is it only a winter grown vegetable? I love Colcannon but haven't made it for some time. I think with St. Patrick's Day coming up maybe I'll cook some. Your recipe you shared sounds delicious. I have an old Bon Appetit recipe that is very tasty too.
Karen
Hello Karen,
DeleteYou are right to mention St. Patrick's day as Colcannon is a popular dish cooked up on that holiday. I suppose potatoes and the Irish are well connected.
Do try growing kale in your own garden as I think you'll be pleasantly surprised at how quickly it grows. I think in southern California it is best to plant it in the autumn.
Wow - what a difference in Leek size!! How disappointing for you. Perhaps they'll grow a little more in Spring when it's warmer and you get longer days? Were the Kale from the seeds you purchased at the Seed bank store you blogged about a while ago?
ReplyDeleteThe colcannon looks delicious, and I'll definitely have to remember to make some when our weather turns more wintery. Although I seem to have very odd children as none of them like mashed potatoes! So strange. I'm constantly trying, and they all turn their noses up and decline to eat it. x
Hello Heidi,
DeleteYes, what a huge difference between my friend Gavin's leeks and my feeble examples. I'm not going to give up though and will leave them in situ for the duration of spring to see if they grow any better. Will report back then.
I cannot imagine any child not enjoying their mash. You have an unusual brood there Heidi. You have me wondering what some of their favorite foods are. Please do tell me they enjoy other childhood favorites (sweets, cakes, all the good stuff) or I really will begin to believe you are rearing some very strange little ones!
Love leeks. Have never taken to Colcannon though, because when the potatoes are mashed, the leeks just feel like lumps to me. Perhaps smashed potatoes would be perfect for my finicky about texture self.
ReplyDeleteHello Lisa,
DeleteI make sure to slice the leeks finely and cook them down so they are not "lumpy" but can well understand if you don't enjoy Colcannon as the texture of the other greens will render the dish a bit more "bumpy" than "lumpy".
Ah, to live in California. I will never forget the time I visited my daughter and I saw my first artichoke plant. You should have seen the tire marks I left on the road!!!
ReplyDeleteWhen I first moved this house I pulled out what now look like your leeks thinking they were weeds. I kept smelling this oniony aroma until the light bulb moment clicked. Too late. I think I took care of the scallions too.
I admire you CD. Your garden is an encyclopedia of fruits and vegetables!
I adore artichokes and remember seeing fields of them growing for the first time when I moved to California, just outside Half Moon Bay, where they are cultivated in abundance. I remember my father growing one plant in our house in Kent. He was so very proud of his efforts. I thought the plant quite beautiful as I watched it grow.
DeleteThose wild leeks or onions grow rampant in the bay area in the spring. I've not tried them myself but perhaps I'll sample some the next time I encounter them, and will think of you.
I've always loved your garden so much. And these guys look amazing, especially the first kale. x
ReplyDeleteHello Natalia,
DeleteSo kind of you to say, thank you. Both varieties of kale are delicious and I would have a hard time picking one over the other.
What an amazing garden you have to source your food from! I like the look of the Tuscan kale!
ReplyDeleteHello, and welcome!
DeleteThank you for your kind comment. The Tuscan kale is particularly flavorsome. Perhaps you too are lucky enough to source some for yourself and try it firsthand.
Dear Lady Domus, you have such a wonderful artistic and historic way of writing about your absolutely beautiful garden! It is a visual treat to see as well. Your family is very fortunate to have such wonderful vegetables for the table.
ReplyDeleteI will certainly try out colcannon. (Up until now, I've only made a mix of potatoes with zucchini and onion. I am ready for a bigger step and more pronounced flavors!
It is still chilly here and this weekend we enjoyed a soup of butternut squash, leeks (both fresh from the in-laws' garden) with garlic. It's always so simple to make really tasty dishes with good products.
Dear gésbi,
DeleteYou say the kindest things, thank you. The garden is a labor of love, and one that I try my best to keep on top of (can be a bit of a pain at times, if I'm perfectly honest, especially in the springtime when the dreaded Oxalis raises its acid yellow head).
I like your idea of mixing zucchini and onion in with the potato, which sounds perfectly delicious. I shall make sure to try it for myself in the summer when zucchini is at its best, thank you.
What bounty! I love the lacy leaves of the Russian Red Kale and can't wait to try your recipe. Looks delish!
ReplyDeletexoxo
Karena
The Arts by Karena
Hello Karena Albert,
DeleteI adore the older varieties of kale, not only for their good looks, but for their flavor. The Russian Red Kale looks particularly beautiful, as you point out, with its lacy leaves and vivid purple spines. who needs flowers when you can drop a few of these leaves into a vase for a beautiful and sculptural arrangement.
Those potatoes look divine. I was not aware of the Russian/Canadian Kale connection. Sounds quite intriguing!
ReplyDeleteHello Jen Lawrence,
DeleteI too was unaware of the Russian/Canadian kale connection until I wrote this post. This is a cold weather vegetable so it should not at all surprise me that it thrives in both of those chilly countries.
Just dropping by to say thank you for your visits and the kind words about the recent posts.
ReplyDeleteI will tell you that due to you, I've been upstairs with the door wide, gazing out the screen and mapping out two vast pots for the two corners where sidewalk meets patio concrete---one of Basil (to use great handfuls at a time) and another of Dill with a little necklace round of Chives, for they're used a little more sparingly. And herbs steps from the kitchen---what luxury, what charm!
Hope you're staying well and warm. I've left my card on the salver in the hall, but don't know what it means. Lawzy me---I can NEVAH remember which downturned corner means WHAT any more. I wonder just WHERE I've left Dear Emily Post . . .
r
Dearest racheld,
DeleteI apologize for the late response to your lovely comment above. Know that I am flattered pink that I've somehow played a small part in your planting scheme. You will no doubt enjoy your herbs throughout the long hot summer and benefit from their fragrance and their taste. Summer is just around the corner.
So lovely to see you at Lawn Tea yesterday, and I hope the "tutorial" was not too gruesome in its way. The cutting-up of a chicken was as much a part of our teenage learnin' as ironing a white shirt, making good lumpless gravy and "white sauce"---(bechamel, with three designations: thin, medium and thick), and alas for me, making and rolling out a good piecrust. I just never got the "hand" for that one, so cobblers and crisps and even Bettys have been in my own repertoire since that epic failure.
DeleteAnd I did learn to fry chicken properly, after a youth of watching Mother's gingerly handling and sizzling (her generation learned from Mrs. Beeton: First kill your chicken, and it was all downhill from there for her). I never saw her eat a bit of chicken save for the liver and Mrs. Chisholm's sublime Chicken Salad, from whom Mother purloined the recipe, making it her own in the family forever.
I've missed you, faraway friend, thinking that you were probably out there in your garden, or writing your wonderfully witty thoughts or perhaps traveling in that wonderland that is CA.
Warm and progresssing here, as well, except for a couple of illnesses in the family which scared us out of our wits, and a Dear One back Home who is being laid to rest today. I just had the thought that she, in the same position as I, as daughter-in-law to the family, had learnt that same shake-a-bag, sizzly-black-skillet method from our mutual angel of a MIL.
(Pausing to retrieve a link):
http://lawntea.blogspot.com/2009/01/passing-torch.html
We're working, recuperating, grieving, and looking forward to the warmth and bright which return without fail, without our meagre help.
Do say what you're doing and creating---it always adds glad.
r
Looks intriguing - if you were to fry it it would be a posh Bubble and Squeak. I'm not very familiar with kale. Is it bitter at all?
ReplyDeleteI am a big fan of leeks though.
Hello Lord Cowell,
DeleteKale is all the rage in the United States at the moment, which amuses me greatly as I've been eating this humble leaf since before it was deemed "fashionable". It is not bitter in the least and I encourage you to plant some in your vegetable garden this autumn.
I love your suggestion of a fried Bubble and Squeak. I think I'll try that next time I make Colcannon, thank you.
Kale is on the list for our potager this autumn then!
ReplyDeleteSo pleased. I promise you'll enjoy it. Just today, I harvested enough for our dinner as it keeps on growing.
Delete