April & Asparagi alla Milanese (Asparagus Milanese)

What’s in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.
~William Shakespeare

The sometimes dubious origin of a month’s name. April is the season of spring in the Northern hemisphere and autumn in the Southern hemisphere.

The Roman calendar changed several times between the founding and the fall of the Roman Empire. Prior to the addition of January and February by Numa Pompilius around 700 BCE, April was the second month of the Roman calendar year with March being the first. The city grew briskly, swelled by landless refugees. So, as most were male and unmarried, the then king Romulus (a character of Rome’s founding myth, and one of the twin sons of Rhea Silvia and Mars who were cast into the river Tiber) arranged to abduct neighboring Sabine women. Of Sabine blood, his successor Numa, who was a wise even cunning leader but lived an austere life, was the legendary second king of Rome.

Romans considered odd numbers to be lucky, so Numa plucked one day from each of the six months with 30 days, reducing the number of days in the previously defined months. Then, around 450 BCE, the month of April slipped into the fourth slot and was assigned a mere 29 days. With the introduction of the Gregorian calendar by a similarly named pope in 1582, another day was added et voilà “30 days hath April,” as does September, June and November.

Though April’s derivation is not certain, a common theory is that the name is rooted in the Latin Aprilis which is derived from the Latin aperire meaning “to open” — perhaps referring to blossoming petals and buds. This coincides not only seasonally but etymologically with the modern Greek use of ἁνοιξις (opening) for the word spring. Others posit that since months are often named for gods and goddesses and Aphrilis is derived from the Greek Aphrodite, one could surmise that the month was named for the Greek goddess of love.

The month of April begins on the same day of the week as July each year, and January in leap years; while it ends on the same day of the week as December every year.

Around the 5th century CE, the Anglo-Saxons referred to the month of April as Oster-monath or Eostre-monath, a reference to the goddess Eostre, whose feast occurred during this month. Saint Bede (a/k/a The Venerable Bede), a learned monk from the Northumbrian monastery of Saint Peter, believed this gave root to the word Easter which is often observed then.

Bunches of jaunty green asparagus are harbingers in farmers’ markets signalling that winter has finally given way to spring.

ASPARAGI ALLA MILANESE (ASPARAGUS MILANESE)

Cold water
Sea salt
Medium asparagus spears, tough ends trimmed off

Unsalted butter
Extra-virgin olive oil
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
4 large, farm fresh eggs

Parmigiano-reggiano, grated
Lemon zest

Bring a large pot with cold water to a boil. Add the sea salt and then asparagus and cook until crisp, about 4 minutes. Drain and divide the spears evenly among smaller plates or platters. Tent loosely with foil.

Heat a heavy, large non-stick skillet over medium. Heat butter and a splash of olive oil until just lightly shimmering. But, please do not burn or brown the butter. While the fat melts, crack eggs into a glass cup or saucer then slide them into the shimmering oil. Cover with a clear domed lid and adjust the heat so that the white begins to set. Begin spooning the heated fats over the eggs until the runny whites turn opaque and the yolks begin to set ever so slightly, but remain rather runny. (The white no longer clear and the yolk still loose.) Remove to a plate by simply sliding them out of the pan or use a slotted spatula. Place the egg over the bottom half of the cooked asparagus spears, and then season with salt and pepper to your liking.

Grate parmigiano-reggiano over each serving, along with some lemon zest. Serve promptly. (It is nearly peerless when that orange yolk quietly oozes onto the eagerly awaiting grassy flavored spears.)

Ukiyo-e (Pictures of the Floating, or Sorrowful, World) & Latkes

Dew Evaporates
And all our world is dew…so dear,
So fresh, so fleeting.
~Issa

Ukiyo-e 浮世絵 is a stunning art form that conceives an evanescent world, a fleeting beauty divorced from the mundane — a genre of Japanese mass produced woodblock prints for commoners in the seclusive Edo period. The polychromatic images depict romantic vistas, transient tales, street scenes, kabuki motifs, comely courtesans, bawdy brothels and even shun-ga (erotica). Life’s momentary insights from shadows and dreams.

Each ukiyo-e image was a collaborative effort: a publisher who coordinated the artisans and marketed the works; an artist who plotted and inked the design on paper; a carver who meticulously chiseled the images, now pasted to a series of woodblocks; and a printer who applied pigments to the woodblocks and printed each color on exquisite handmade paper. Reproductions, sometimes numbering in the thousands, could be made until the carvings on the woodblocks became overly worn.

While a rambling discourse on beloved sushi or sashimi in earlier Japanese culture may seem in order, it is hanukkah so…

POTATO AND TURNIP LATKES

2 medium russet potatoes, peeled and shredded
1 large turnip, peeled, quartered and shredded
1/2 medium yellow onion, peeled, quartered and shredded

2 large eggs, lightly beaten
2 T all-purpose flour
1/2 T fresh thyme leaves, finely chopped
1/2 T fresh sage leaves, finely chopped
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

3/4 C duck fat, plus more as needed

Place the vegetables in a strainer over a large bowl and allow liquid to drain. Set reserved liquid aside and allow starch to sink to the bottom. Gingerly pour liquid from the bowl, reserving the milky residue (potato starch) and discard the clearer, watery stuff. Transfer potatoes back to bowl with the starch.

Beat together the eggs, flour, thyme, sage, salt and pepper in another bowl until well combined. Add the egg mixture to the vegetables and mix until evenly combined.

Heat duck fat in a large, heavy skillet over medium high heat until shimmering.

Form some “silver dollar pancakes” and carefully place one in the hot fat to test for temperature — the fat should immediately bubble around the edges. Cook until golden brown, turning once, about 3-4 minutes per side. Remove them from the pan and taste, adjusting the seasoning as needed.

Form more potato patties and place them in the hot fat without overcrowding. Fry (undisturbed) until the latkes hold together and become golden brown, again about 3-4 minutes per side. Adjust seasoning to your taste. Remove to a paper towel lined platter and continue frying more latkes until done.

Nosh on them semi-hot or preferably closing in on room temp. If you are even a touch unfamiliar, you will wonder where in the hell these divine spuds have been for all these years.

Hearts, of Palm

The heart has its reasons which reason knows not.
~Blaise Pascal

A jaunt southward toward misty cloud forests.

Hearts of palm are harvested from the soft inner cores and growing buds (apical meristems) of palm trees notably the palmito, açaí, huasaí, juçara, sabal, and pejibaye varieties. They thrive in tropical climes, needing some 150″ of annual rainfall each year to flourish, and are harvested when the plant is about 5-6′ tall and 4″ in diameter. To harvest hearts of palm, a young tree must be felled and the bark (along with the fibrous outer layers) peeled away to reveal the inner softer core. Once the core is removed from the tree, the tubular white heart is cut into smaller sections, each a few inches long, ready to be sold fresh or, as is more often the case, canned. Unfortunately, the harvesting process of most wild palms results in tree death. Because they have only one stem, extracting the inner core kills the plant. So, several palm species have been domesticated which produce multiple stems, allowing farmers to reap them while allowing the tree to live.

A delicacy in Latin and South American cuisine, they are also heralded in France which remains an exhuberant importer of hearts of palm (coeurs de palmier). Hearts of palm are tubular, have an ivory hue and impart tender, subtle flavors–strikingly similar to artichokes. They are often seen with a myriad of greens, and also make appearances sautéed, puréed, braised, steamed, fried, marinated, on pizzas, in pastas, soups, and so on.

HEARTS OF PALM WITH AVOCADOES & OLIVES

2 plump, fresh garlic cloves, peeled and coarsely chopped
1/2 C fresh cilantro leaves
1/4 C fresh lemon juice
2 t Dijon mustard
1 t honey
Sea salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

1 C extra virgin olive oil

14 oz can hearts of palm, drained
4 ripe Hass avocados
3/4 C Niçoise olives, pitted, sliced
Scallion greens, sliced across in half, then thinly lengthwise
Boston or bibb lettuce leaves

In a blender or processor fitted with a steel knife, purée garlic and cilantro with lemon juice, mustard, honey, salt and pepper. While blade is running or after adding the mixture to a medium glass bowl, add olive oil in a narrow stream, blending or whisking until dressing is emulsified.

Cut hearts of palm and avocado into 3/4″ cubes and very gently fold together with olives and scallion greens and enough vinaigrette to coat in a large glass bowl until combined well.

Line chilled salad plates with lettuce leaves and mound hearts of palm-avocado-olive mixture on top.

Not-So-Jerusalem Artichokes aliased Sunchokes, Sunroots

As I kissed her the heat of her body increased, and it exhaled a wild, untamed fragrance.
~Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez

“Keep it simple, stupid” is an oft heard maxim coined by Kelly Johnson, famed systems engineer and aeronautical innovator. A mise en place freak. The KISS principle often reigns over the kitchen. So many toothsome cuisines — from Italian to South American to Malaysian to French to South Asian to Chinese to Russian to Singaporese to Southeast Asian to Latin American to Japanese to African, and so on — pursue the simplest solutions and tread the simplest paths with both components and techniques. By now, we know a simple plate is far from boring or dull. Food that is nothing more and nothing less than simplicity mastered with hints of restraint.

Jerusalem artichokes (Helianthus tuberosus), aka sunroots or sunchokes, are actually a perennial sunflower native to North America. Fleshy rhizomes (underground stems) bear small tubers which are elongated and uneven, vaguely resembling ginger root. They vary in color from pale brown to white, red or purple. Sun chokes are subterranean tubers which are more difficult to harvest than potatoes because the tubers cling to the roots and become intertwined. Cultivated varieties of sunchokes grow in clumps close to the main rhizome while wild ones grow at the end of root. They can grow from 3-12 feet high with large leaves and flowers that are 1 1/2-3″ in diameter.

Sunchokes were discovered growing wild on the eastern seaboard in pre-colonial days. Samuel de Champlain first encountered sunchokes growing in an Indian garden in Cape Cod in the early 17th century. Because he likened them to artichokes, he dubbed them so. Native Americans called them sunroots and introduced these perennial tubers to the pilgrims who adopted them as a staple. Apparently the French began growing these tubers successfully because they were sold by Parisian street vendors who named them topinambours, the French word for tuber. The origin of the nomenclature “Jerusalem” is rather hazy, although some surmise the name to be a corruption of the Italian griasole, which translates as “turning to the sun.”

I was graced with some of these divine gnarly knots by a kind farmer at the city market, and they are well worth the short trip from oven to table. Simple enough. So, when served or later, don’t forget to KISS the cook…wherever.  If you are cooking/eating solo, just use your imagination.

ROASTED JERUSALEM ARTICHOKES

1 lbs+ Jerusalem artichokes, cleaned and halved
Extra virgin olive oil
Fresh thyme leaves, chopped
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

Preheat oven to 350 F

In a large glass bowl, drizzle halved artichokes with olive oil, working them gently with your fingers (the world’s greatest kitchen tool). Spread oiled artichokes on a sheet pan lined with foil. Sprinkle with fresh thyme leaves and season with salt and pepper. Roast until fork tender, about 40-45 minutes.  Of course, cooking time will vary depending on your oven and artichoke size.

Pourboire: Sunchokes can be prepared mashed (peeled or not) with or without other vegetables such as potatoes, turnips, turnips, or celery root. They also can be served raw, sautéed, or boiled.

Grits — Apple & Mushroom

We are born believing. A man bears beliefs as a tree bears apples.
~Ralph Waldo Emerson

The Meatless Mondays campaign, jointly launched by the Johns Hopkins and Columbia University schools of public health in 2003, has gained traction over the last decade or so. To those who wonder, this simply means to go meatless on Mondays. Awareness of the program has escalated, influencing decisions to reduce meat intake. The campaign has now begun to focus on national institutions like food service providers, manufacturers, chains, supermarkets and schools. Eating with moderation in mind holds real promise.

Tell that to the USDA and the beef association. The Department of Agriculture had published an interoffice newsletter calling for participation in Meatless Mondays by merely choosing among the many meat-free dishes offered in the office’s cafeteria. The newsletter commented that meat production plays a role in climate change, waste water, and demands on fertilizers, pesticides and fossil fuels. It also pointed to the many health concerns related to the excessive consumption of meat. All true.

This prompted an immediate, sermonizing rebuttal from the beef trade association. J.D. Alexander, president of the National Cattlemen’s Beef Association, who wrote in lobby lingo, “(t)his is truly an awakening statement by USDA, which strongly indicates that USDA does not understand the efforts being made in rural America to produce food and fiber for a growing global population in a very sustainable way. USDA was created to provide a platform to promote and sustain rural America in order to feed the world. This move by USDA should be condemned by anyone who believes agriculture is fundamental to sustaining life on this planet.” What a core statement. Politicians from beef states jumped on the bandwagon, claiming that they would eat even more red on Mondays, dubbin’ dem “double rib-eye Mondays.” Where is John Wayne when you need him?

In response, the USDA promptly backed down, withdrawing the newsletter and issuing a retraction via Twitter: “USDA does not endorse Meatless Monday. Statement found on USDA website was posted w/o proper clearance. It has been removed//” Sad and disappointing. Nothing like tweeting a “Dear John” to yourself. As always, caught in the middle of this childish spat are we consumers.

Michael Klag, a dean of Johns Hopkins, expressed his dismay with the hasty USDA recantation with a cc letter to the Secretary of Agriculture, Tom Vilsack. The letter reminded the department, Congress and the administration of the responsibility to represent all segments of agriculture and fulfill the mission of promoting healthy diets.

There should be fewer bones to pick. Remember that far from being a vegan, vegatarian, polo-pescatarian or otherwise, I am by nature an omnivore who savors species from both plant and animal kingdoms. However, temperance should be exercised at the table, and if that involves some rational red meat forbearance then please so be it. Meatless Mondays, without so much political quibble, are a good start at home.

APPLE & MUSHROOM GRITS

4 bacon slices, cut into lardons
1 small to medium red onion, peeled and chopped
3 plump, fresh garlic cloves, peeled and minced
1 dozen+ mushrooms, such as shiitake, chanterelle and oysters, cut evenly

1 C quick-cooking grits
2 C whole milk
Pinch of sea salt
1 C chicken or vegetable stock
1 C water
1 rosemary sprigs
2 thyme sprigs

1/2 C heavy whipping cream, warmed
2 T unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
2 T parmigiano-reggiano, grated
1 pinch freshly ground pepper

1 Granny Smith apple, cored and julienned

In a large, heavy sauté pan over medium heat, add the bacon, onion, and garlic, and then sauté until onions are translucent, about 10 minutes. Add the mushrooms, and cook another 4-5 minutes. Remove from heat and set aside for later.

Combine grits, milk, sea salt, stock/water, rosemary and thyme in a large, heavy saucepan and bring to a simmer over low heat. Simmer for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally, then remove from heat, cover and let stand for another 10 minutes. Remove and discard the rosemary and thyme sprigs.

Whisk the cream, mushroom mélange, butter, parmigiano-reggiano, and black pepper into the grits.

To serve, spoon grits into shallow soup bowls or to the side or partially underneath an entrée. Top with julienned apple.

Couscous with Chickpeas, Mint & Harissa

Just because you do not take an interest in politics does not mean politics will not take an interest in you.
~Pericles

Ancient, mystical lands ever praised for mesmerizing skies, colorful souks (markets) and seductively rugged landscapes, just became critically strategic. Morocco is seen in the West as a bulwark against the threat of instability from the terrorism and violent fundamentalism spreading throughout North Africa. Faced with the challenges posed by the Arab Spring, King Mohammed VI adroitly negotiated and then held a constitutional referendum on political reforms which was soon followed by multiparty elections. One of Washington’s closest allies in the region, the State Department has now been working feverishly to cement relationships with this land of contrast since the recent appalling deaths of four members of the embassy staff in Libya. Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton has even praised Morocco as a “leader and a model” in the region.

Threats from Mali after the northern half of the nearby central African state fell under the control of militant, radical concerns have now been coupled with the perceived peril posed by Al-Qaeda affiliates in the Maghreb. The assassination of the U.S. ambassador in Libya, the almost sudden revolutions that toppled leaders elsewhere (including Hosni Mubarak, the former leader of Egypt who was a long-time U.S. ally), the seemingly unending strife in Syria, and the profound uncertainties in Tunisia, Iraq, Iran and Afghanistan, the region just seems ablaze. The kingdom of Morocco seems a haven of sorts from intolerance and could emerge as a crucial partner there. This makes some sense given recent events and because historically Morocco was the first country to recognize American independence in 1777.

So, on to a memorable Moroccan staple, past and present. Praiseworthy stuff. Couscous should be light and fluffy, not gummy. So, allow the grains to absorb the liquid.

COUSCOUS WITH CHICKPEAS & MINT

1 T coriander seeds, toasted and ground
1/2 T cumin seeds, toasted and ground
1 t caraway seeds, toasted and ground

2 T extra virgin olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
Sea salt, to taste
4 plump, fresh garlic cloves, peeled and minced
1 T turmeric
1 T pimenton agridulce
Pinch of cayenne pepper

2 C chickpeas, soaked in water overnight and drained
1 qt chicken stock
1 qt water, warmed
Bouquet garni of parsley and cilantro, tied with twine

1 T tomato paste
2 T harissa, plus more for serving

2 C couscous
1 T extra virgin olive oil
1 C stock (reserved)
1 1/2 C water
1/4 C dried currants, plumped in warm water, then drained
1 t finely grated orange zest
3 T fresh mint leaves, chopped
Sea salt and freshly ground pepper

In a heavy medium dry pan lightly toast the coriander, cumin and carraway until fragrant. Grind in a spice grinder and set aside.

Heat olive oil in a large, heavy Dutch oven over medium heat and add the onion. Cook, stirring, until it is tender, about 5 minutes, and stir in a generous pinch of salt, the garlic, coriander, caraway, turmeric, pimenton and cayenne. Stir together for about a minute, until the garlic is fragrant, then add the drained chickpeas, stock, water and the bouquet garni. Bring to a gentle boil, reduce the heat, cover and simmer 1 hour. Add the tomato paste, the harissa and salt to taste. Bring back to a simmer and simmer another 45 minutes, until the chickpeas are tender. Strain but reserve and keep warm 1 cup of the broth and set aside for the couscous.

Add the couscous to a heavy large saucepan with olive oil over medium heat and stir. Then add the warmed stock and water. Gently stir with a fork to combine and cover. Remove from heat and let stand for 10 minutes. Add the currants and orange zest and fluff again with a fork. Season to taste with salt and pepper and stir in the mint, tossing gently to combine.

Pass harissa in a bowl at the table.

Harissa

2 T cumin, toasted and ground
1 t coriander, toasted and ground
1 t carraway, toasted and ground

1 lb small hot red chilies, roasted and peeled
2 large red bell peppers, roasted and peeled
Juice of 1 lemon
4 plump, fresh garlic cloves, peeled

1/4 C cilantro, roughly chopped
1 T sea salt
Extra virgin olive oil

Lightly toast and grind the cumin, coriander and carraway. Finely mince the chilies, roasted peppers, lemon and garlic with a knife or food processor. Combine with the cilantro and salt. Transfer to an airtight jar and cover with a light splash of olive oil and place in the refrigerator until needed.

Raita — A Cool Contrast

Fueled by scorching temperatures, a severe to extreme drought has settled over much of the continental United States. The most brutal heat wave in many decades, readings above 100 F have become commonplace. The Midwest is evolving into a dust bowl, while the Southwest and Rockies are becoming tinder boxes, and lakes and rivers across the South are withering up. More than half of all counties have been designated primary disaster areas this growing season. Almost four million acres of conservation land were opened by the Department of Agriculture for ranchers to use for haying and grazing. Crops and pasture lands throughout much of the country have taken more than a drubbing — they have simply become a debacle with little relief in sight. Somber days in the breadbasket as the drought has touched so many, so much.

Beat the heat fare should be trendy this cruel summer. A cooling concoction with infinite variations, raita is a traditional Indian-Pakistani-Bangladeshi condiment used as a salad, relish, spread, dip or side dish. Other versions include tomato, diced veggies, avocado, chutney, beet, masala, potato, sweet potato, onion, chile, chickpea, etc.  Although always finely mated with Indian dishes, versatile raita need not be relegated to south Asian eats.

RAITA

1 t cumin seeds, toaasted and ground
1 t coriander seeds, toasted and ground
1 t black mustard seeds, toasted and ground

2 C plain Greek (strained) yogurt
1 t sugar
1/2 t crushed red pepper powder or flakes
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

1/2+ large fresh English cucumber, peeled and diced
1 C fresh mint leaves, chopped

In a heavy dry medium skillet, toast cumin, coriander and mustard seeds until just aromatic. Allow to cool and then grind the seeds in a spice grinder or mortar and pestle.

Whisk together yogurt, sugar, red pepper, cumin, coriander, mustard, salt, black pepper, cucumber, and mint. Chill, covered, until ready to serve.

Pourboire: a brief word about measuring. Although baking demands precise measurements, savory cooking generally allows some laxity. So, unless you are as OCD as Ina Garten, just mete out ingredients with your eyes. Use that oversized 3 lbs of meat between your ears (and hippocampi) to judge and recall amounts — simply pour a carefully measured, even brightly hued, chosen spice into an open palm in order to ascertain the quantity of a teaspoon, tablespoon, cup or portion thereof and take note. Then, use that memory forward.

Egg Curries

Selfishness is not living as one wishes to live, it is asking others to live as one wishes to live.
~Oscar Wilde

Given India’s eloquent history, vivid traditions, varied cultures, diverse and burgeoning populace and potent economic position, it often seems baffling, if not disconcerting, that news from there rarely travels here. Well, unless the info is perceived to somehow affect Joe the plumber. Of course, sadly the same can be said of most all Asian and African lands — as if these places are outmoded artifacts. To our detriment we have been, and will remain, profoundly ethnocentric. What follows is civic and social ignorance. Sometimes it seems food is the only refuge from the depths of this self-inflicted punishment.

Ranging by region, this dish is far from standard across the subcontinent, but supposedly originates from Northern India, particularly Punjab. It is sometimes known as Anda Bhaji, Punjabi or Mughlai Curry there, while in south India it sometimes bears the names Andhra, Chettinad Mutta, Mangalore or Kerala egg curry depending on locale, cuisine and ingredients. Within those subsets there are even more species which differ from kitchen to kitchen, cook to cook. No doubt, the varieties have been given short shrift here.

Captivatingly aromatic, there is a nuanced burst of spice with each chew.

EGG CURRY

9 eggs
Water, to cover

2-3 T grapeseed oil
1 T fresh ginger, peeled and minced
3 plump, fresh garlic cloves, peeled and minced
1 T serrano chiles, stemmed, seeded and minced
1 T honey

1 T garam masala
1 T turmeric
1 T pimentón agridulce (Spanish paprika)
1 T cumin seeds, roasted and finely ground
1 T coriander seeds, toasted and finely ground
1 T cardamom seeds, toasted and finely ground
1 T fennel seeds, toasted and finely ground
1 t fenugreek, toasted and finely ground
Pinch of sea salt

1 C fresh tomatoes, cored, seeded and chopped
1 C chicken broth

1 C Greek yogurt
2 T chickpea flour

Cilantro leaves, chopped

Gently place the eggs in a saucepan and add enough cold water to liberally cover the eggs. Bring to a boil over high and then immediately remove from heat and cover until done, about 12 minutes. Uncover and flush with cool running water and then briefly place in an ice bath to cease cooking. Dry promptly on paper towels, peel and reserve.

Heat the oil in a large, heavy pan over medium high and add the ginger, chiles and garlic. Cook for about a minute and then add the honey, and cook about a minute more. First mix, then add the garam masala, turmeric, pimentón, cumin, coriander, cardamom, fennel, fenugreek, and sea salt to the pan, and again cook until fragrant, about a minute or two. Add the tomatoes and cook for another 2-3 minutes. Add the chicken broth, bring to a quiet but steady simmer and reduce, about 5 minutes.

In a separate bowl, whisk the yogurt and chick pea flour together and then slowly stir into the tomato sauce. Bring to a gentle boil and then reduce heat to low and continue to cook, stirring gently, for about 15 minutes. Slice the reserved boiled eggs in half lengthwise and gently place them in the sauce, cut side up, to reheat spooning the sauce on top.

Finish with a light sprinkling of chopped cilantro and serve alongside basmati rice, paratha or naan.

Pommes de Terre Sarladaises (Potatoes in Duck Fat)

Art is not what you see, but what you make others see.
~Edgar Degas

Several months after the fall of France in 1940, four teenagers and a dog, Robot, stumbled upon the now renowned Upper Paleolithic wall paintings in the Lascaux valley. With that chance find brought a wondrous era of knowing prehistoric art, touching our origins and realizing the awe of humanity and nature. The timing seemed ironic.

This complex of decorated limestone caves, La Grotte de Lascaux, is located in the Vézère river drainage basin in the département of the Dordogne. Magical messages from the depths of prehistory are encoded on these walls. Stunningly, there are nearly 2,000 painted figures, which can be grouped into three basic images: animals (bulls, bison, equines, stags, felines, et al.), human figures and abstract signs. Rooms include The Hall of the Bulls, the Passageway, the Shaft of the Dead Man, the Nave, the Apse, and the Chamber of Felines.

Many of the painted animals are depicted with multiple heads, legs or tails, which according to Marc Azéma of the University of Toulouse–Le Mirail and Florent Rivère, an artist based in Foix, intended to give life to and show beasts in action. Flickering torches and flames which passed over painted scenes would have heightened onlookers’ sense of seeing animated stories. The Lascaux cave has the greatest number of cases of split-action movement by the superimposition of successive images. These Stone Age images were likely the precursors to comic strips, motion picture cartoons, and modern animation — even cinema — according to their research which was published in the most recent issue of the journal, Antiquity. News of these findings has taken the art history world by storm. “Prehistoric man foreshadowed one of the fundamental characteristics of visual perception, retinal persistence,” noted Azéma and Rivère.

This is a canonical French potato dish originating in the gastronomically flush southwest (Le Sud-Ouest). Duck fat, a pantry staple in the Dordogne, imparts silkiness inside and golden crisp edges to the spuds.

POMMES DE TERRE SARLADAISES (POTATOES IN DUCK FAT)

1 lb fingerling potatoes, halved lengthwise or Yukon Golds, sliced about 1/4″ thick

1/2 C rendered duck fat
4 plump, fresh garlic cloves, peeled and thinly sliced
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
3 sprigs fresh thyme
2 sprigs fresh rosemary

Fresh parsley leaves, chopped (optional)

Rinse potatoes whole under cold water, then dry thoroughly and slice. Heat a large, heavy skillet or Dutch oven (une cocotte) over medium high heat add the duck fat until just melted. Then add potatoes, garlic, salt, pepper, thyme, and rosemary. Toss together to coat well over medium high heat. Reduce heat to medium and gently sauté, stirring occasionally, until fork tender, about 20-25 minutes. Remove and discard thyme and rosemary sprigs. Finish with optional chopped parsley.

Lentils & Walnuts

God gives the nuts, but he does not crack them.
~Franz Kafka

Not to be confused with other nuts or wingnuts…those outspoken, irrational people with deeply ingrained, deranged, flagrantly ignorant political beliefs, e.g., Rush Limbaugh, Michele Bachmann, Fred Phelps and their ilk. The lunatic fringe.

Rather, walnuts are edible seeds harvested from deciduous trees of the genus Juglans, especially the Persian walnut a/k/a English walnut, Juglans regia. Walnuts are rounded, single-seeded stone fruits enclosed in a leathery green, fleshy, inedible husk. Inside the husk is the wrinkly, hard walnut shell, which encloses that kind kernel, which presents as two halves separated by a partition. Walnuts, like all seeds, are living organs which respirate. After harvest, the seeds continually consume oxygen and release carbon dioxide, so storage is crucial.

The common walnut is native to the mountain ranges of Central Asia, extending from western China, into the ranges of Nepal, through present day Afghanistan and Iran, and finally Turkey. Alexander the Great introduced the tree to Greece and Macedonia, so it became known as the Persian nut. Later, ancient Romans imported the walnut tree into nearby conquered lands, such as Gaul and Brittania, where it has thrived since. Some espouse that North American walnuts assumed the moniker English walnuts, since they arrived in the colonies aboard English merchant ships.

The potential health benefits of walnuts cannot be understated — abounding with nutrients, particularly proteins, vitamin E, and essential fatty and phenolic acids, tannins, and flavonoids. They are also rich sources of antioxidants, anti-inflammatories, monounsaturated fats and omega-3 fatty acids. A so-called superfood.

LENTILS & WALNUTS

2 C green lentils (preferably du Puy)
1 1/2 C cold water
2 C vegetable or chicken stock
1 bay leaf
3 fresh thyme sprigs

2 T extra virgin olive oil
1 large yellow onion, peeled and diced
3 plump, fresh garlic cloves, peeled and minced
Splash of sherry or red wine vinegar
Sea salt and freshly ground pepper

Walnut oil, to taste
3/4 C walnuts, toasted and roughly chopped
3/4 C artisanal chèvre (goat cheese), crumbled

Put the lentils in a medium, heavy saucepan with the bay leaf and thyme. Pour over water and stock, bring to a boil, then reduce the heat, cover and simmer until tender, about 20-30 minutes. If the liquid is not totally absorbed, simply drain off any excess through a fine colander. Discard bay leaf and thyme sprigs.

Meanwhile, heat the olive oil in a large, heavy skillet over medium high heat and sauté the onion until soft. Add the garlic for another 1 minute, then deglaze the pan with just a splash of sherry vinegar. Remove from heat. Toss the cooked lentils with the onion mixture, and then season with salt and pepper. Drizzle with walnut oil, add the walnuts, toss with crumbled goat cheese and serve warm.