Homemade Potato ...er, I mean Turnip Chips

A couple of days ago, I picked up my son from school, and immediately upon climbing in (amid my usual, "Come on, there's a long line!") he excitedly hands me a note. Like most things he brings home from first grade, it's rolled or folded into the smallest package possible. Maybe he thinks that makes it easier to carry. I unfolded his note and read the precise school teacher handwriting which said, "Recipe for turnip chips?"

Hmm.

I had never actually made turnip chips before. It was time to ask the boy. It went something like this:

Me: Am I supposed to find a recipe for your class? Are you studying turnips?

Boy: My teacher wants the recipe you make. I told her about it.

Me: But I've never made turnip chips.

Boy: You know, the ones you make where some are really crispy and some are really soft, and they're really delicious. Those turnip chips.

(I must interject here. What mother doesn't glow when her son waxes poetic about a vegetable?)

Me: Oh -- you mean the potato chips I make?

Boy: Those are potatoes?

This went on a while, and we ended up deciding to roast some turnip chips. The original potato recipe isn't something I would have blogged about. It's not really even a recipe; I just slice potatoes and roast them. But here goes -- this is for the boy:

I peeled three turnips, and sliced them into rounds. I do this by hand for two reasons: I like the rustic look of irregular slices, and the way they cook up (that's what the boy meant when he said some were crispy and some were soft); and just looking at my mandoline makes my fingers instinctively curl up in self-preservation mode.

I toss them in a large bowl with 3 Tablespoons olive oil, salt and freshly cracked pepper, and dried thyme. Any combination of dried herbs will work here. (Rubbed sage might be great this time of year, Herbes de Provence would be nice earlier in the season...go wild.) Use a large enough bowl to really throw them around. It's not a bad idea to reach in there with your hands and make sure all the slices are seasoned on both sides.

I spray a baking sheet with non-stick spray, and arrange the slices as evenly as possible. They will overlap a bit; just let them.

Roast them at 375 degrees. After about 15 minutes, rotate the baking sheet. After another 15 minutes, turn the "chips" over with a spatula, then roast 10 or 15 minutes more. They will shrink up quite a bit.

These chips don't quite make it to crispy. They are so absolutely delicious, however, that it doesn't matter. The slow-roasting brings out incredible sweetness and the caramelized edges develop a lovely chewiness. Now that I know how they behave with this treatment, I can't wait to fan them out over a serving platter and top them with grilled fish. Or roasted chicken. Or whatever.

Kale (my way)

I love me some kale.

Not the soft, tender kale with bacon fat so customary on soul food and comfort food menus. (Not that I haven't bellied up to that counter more than once.) I want my kale to have a little fight left in it. A little less fat. Tons of flavor. And I ain't afraid of that other F word either. (Fiber -- what were you thinking?)

If you've been known to reach past the velvety, baby spinach leaves for that wrinkly, full-bodied curly spinach, then keep reading. This toothsome recipe is for you.

Clean and dry one bunch kale, and discard the thick center stems. In a hot pan, drizzle about 2 TBL olive oil. Let it get hot, and then add as much kale as will fit. Turn it over with tongs, and as it shrinks in your pan (amazingly, I might add) add the rest of the kale.

After about 5 minutes on medium heat, clear a spot in the middle to add 1 - 2 cloves chopped garlic. (I usually add a bit more olive oil with it.)






Once the garlic is golden brown, sautee everything together, adding salt and fresh cracked pepper to taste. (It's dangerous to salt kale too early -- the sheer volume at the start practically guarantees over-salting.) When the bottom of the pan developes a good color, you know it's time to de-glaze.

I used about 2 TBL balsamic vinegar, and a dash of hot sauce isn't a bad idea at this point.

The finished product...

If you don't enjoy quite so much of that delighful texture, top it with a lid after the de-glazing, and let it steam in very low heat for 5 - 10 minutes. Enjoy!

Garden Updates:

Still cleaning up and discovering what has come back. I found this dill...



the sage flowers

Here is the herb garden, ready for new plantings.
The weeds and thistles filled my wheelbarrow (but not my assistant's...hmmm). Here is a newly-tilled patch, ready for tomatoes and...we'll see. I'd better get busy -- as usual, I'm a little late.

Sesame Vinaigrette

Sorry. I ate it all before I could get a picture. It didn't even get to a plate. I think salad just tastes better right out of the bowl anyway.

I've been buying spring mix at Sam's lately. A person really can't eat too much salad, right? I love sesame vinaigrette, and until recently I've mixed it in a bowl, tasting and adding a little of this, and a little more of that. As a favor to my mother, I finally took notes. Here is a basic, easy recipe:

Simple Sesame Vinaigrette

2 Tablespoons sugar

1/4 cup rice vinegar

1 Tablespoon Soy Sauce

1/8 cup sesame oil

1/2 cup canola oil

I place the first three ingredients in a tightly sealed jar and shake it like the dickens. When the sugar is dissolved, I add the oils and shake some more. Voila! (It will settle -- who cares.)

This recipe has the four corners covered: sweet, salty, tangy and slick (the oils). Don't get me started about those fat-free dressings...boring! If you pay attention to those things (as I should) simply use less dressing on your salad. This is also a great recipe to adapt. Add fresh ginger, garlic, peppercorns, crushed red pepper flakes...go wild.

Pink Lentils

These lovely pink pearls (actually more of a salmon color) are a true "triple threat": healthy, delicious, and easy. The first time I snuck them in as a main course, my meat-and-potatoes husband slid the bowl closer to his plate as he said, (surprising him and relieving me), "These lentils are irresistible!" I think you'll agree. Make extra; they're even good cold, right out of the fridge.


Years ago, after my move from New York to Seattle, a friend from my home town in Ohio offered to drive across country and bring my little car to me -- my dear Buick Somerset. Her partner in this adventure was her college roommate Anjum. I have no idea where that little car is today, but this recipe card, written in my 20-something hand, has been cherished and lovingly cared for all these years. Thank you Anjum, for this wonderful Pakistani recipe. It was handed down through your family, and it has found a permanent place within mine.

The general directions on the card have worked well for me over the years, but tonight I took the time to actually measure my ingredients. Here's a more precise version:

Place 1 cup lentils in 2 1/2 cups cold water.

Add 1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon turmeric

and 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper.

Cover, bring to a boil, and simmer until tender and slightly soupy (about 20 minutes).

In a small saute pan, heat 3 to 4 Tablespoons olive oil on medium heat, and add one clove garlic, thinly sliced lengthwise (don't mince or chop), and simmer until it just starts to brown.

Quickly add the garlic and oil mix to the lentils (enjoy the "Ka shhsh!") and serve immediately -- with crusty bread, fluffy rice . . . or just a spoon.