Beans, Beans, the Magical Fruit

These Dragon's Tongue, purple and flat bean pickles were inspired by Ruth Reichl, who featured the Wynad peppercorns used in this recipe in last week's Gourmet newsletter. In Ruth's words, "everything else is just dust." This $23-a-bag spice is fragrant enough to sew into sachets and store with your unmentionables--if you're into that kind of thing.

I spent days wandering the thousand-year old spice market in Kerala last year, but never encountered these rare peppercorns.wild Balinese long peppers, which I've used instead of bay leaves (per Big Tree's rec). It's an experiment, so don't go cursing Pickle Girl come fall. Have fun with your pickles, people.

1 lb. unusual beans
1 Qt. white vinegar
1 c. water
6 Tb. kosher salt
1 clove garlic
1/2 jalapeno
1 long pepper, snapped in two
1/2 tsp. Wynad peppercorns
1/4 tsp. dill seed
1/4 tsp. black mustard seed
1/4 tsp. red pepper flakes

You know the drill.

'Scape from New York

In this New York City heat, I've been dreaming of stowing away to the country on a farm truck at the Union Square Greenmarket, like some lucky little Pixar character. Instead, I spent an evening standing over a boiling canner while my husband tried to pickle me with mojitos.

Dangle these pickled garlic scapes in cocktails, chop them up in lieu of capers in salsa verde, or serve them alongside grilled meats.

1 qt. white vinegar
1 cup water
6 Tbs. kosher salt
2 bunches garlic scapes
1 tsp. mustard seed
1 tsp. celery seed
1/2 tsp. peppercorns
1 bay leaf

1. Wash scapes and trim ends. Line up a handful of scapes and wrap around your wrist, knotting the tops through the opening. This should yield two or three knotted groups of scapes, which will help you wrangle them into a sterilized quart jar.

2. Boil vinegar, water and salt for five minutes, then keep warm.

3. Add scape bundles and spices to the jar, then pour hot liquid over to within 1/2 inch of the top. Wipe rim clean and seal with a new lid.

4. Process in a hot water canner for 10 minutes, or refrigerate for a few months. Scapes will be perfectly pickled within three weeks.

Will the Real pickle girl Please Stand up?

In what, admittedly, was pure narcissism, I Googled "pickle girl" with the hope that maybe--just maybe--somebody besides Ned reads this blog. I was gobsmacked to learn pickle girl (ahem... the real pickle girl), has an evil twin--one Maury has the chutzpah to call Pickle Girl.

If you want a good laugh, check out what is either heinous acting or an honest-to-goodness phobia of pickles.

Pickles in the News: The Electric Kool-Aid Pickle Test

I've decided it's high time pickle girl shared news from the world of pickles beyond the pantry. Yesterday's NY Times article on Kool-Aid dill pickles in towns along the Mississippi Delta inspired me to get on my Mason jar box and say it loud... power to the pickle.

Here's a telling snippet from the article:

But she did eat dill pickles impaled on peppermint sticks, and she remembers how friends sucked the juice from cut lemons through peppermint sticks repurposed as straws. “That’s the same kind of taste,” she said. “Same as how they used to dip pickle spears in dry Kool-Aid mix for that pucker.”

Ramping up

Pickled ramps seem to be ubiquitous in foodie cirles these days, so it's no surprise these wild, fledgling leeks are easier to find with every passing spring. If you live in NYC, you'll find ramps at your local Greenmarket through May. They can also be found at Whole Foods, Chelsea Produce, and Garden of Eden.

The following recipe for sweet pickled ramps is adapted from Tom Colicchio's Think Like a Chef:

1 pound ramps, cleaned and trimmed
1 cup white wine vinegar
1 cup sugar
1 tsp. mustard seed
1 tsp. coriander seed
1 tsp. fennel seed
1 tsp. red peppercorns
1 bay leaf

1. Combine the vinegar and sugar with 1 cup of water in a saucepan and bring to a boil. Add the mustard, coriander, fennel seeds, peppercorns and bay leaf. Keep warm over low heat.

2. Meanwhile, blanch the ramps in a large pot of boiling salted water until the leaves turn bright green, about 2-3 minutes. Drain, then shock the ramps under cold water. Dry, and arrange in a clean jar.

3. Pour the hot vinegar mixture over the ramps and set aside to cool. Cover and refrigerate for at least 3 days before serving.

Pickled ramps will keep in the refrigerator for several months.

Preserved Meyer Lemons

On a recent business trip to San Francisco, I picked up 2 lbs. of California's sweet Meyer lemons at the Ferry Plaza farmers market, so I could preserve them in Mason jars as Christmas presents. Preserved lemons are commonplace throughout the Middle East, and are especially integral to the cuisines of North Africa, where they perfume tagines and add a piquant zing to meze.

When I first started making these years ago, I loved the look of them on my shelves, but only used them once or twice a year. With more daring experimentation, I've come to rely on preserved lemons in my Bloody Marys, a quinoa salad with pine nuts, feta, and mint, and in this no-brainer preserved lemon dip when guests drop by unexpectedly.

1. Use as many lemons as you like--Meyer lemons are preferable, as their skin is thin and somewhat sweet.
2. Cut each lemon 3/4 of the way, horizontally. Now make another cut, perpendicular to the first one, also only cutting 3/4 of the way through the lemon. The fruit should now open like a flower that's held together at the base.
3. Pack the lemons with kosher salt (be sure to fill both cuts), and layer snugly into a clean Mason jar.
4. Cover with freshly squeezed lemon juice and store in the refrigerator.

Preserved lemons will be ready after one month and can be stored for up to one year in the fridge.

The Dog Ate My Pickle

It seems that I have committed the Cardinal Sin of blogging: it's been months since my last post. However, I have a good excuse, as I've been traveling for work and pleasure since August.

I have returned home to NYC inspired by the pickles and preserved foods I encountered in Peru, Argentina, Chile, Uruguay, and San Francisco. Though not technically a pickle, ceviche is one of the most fascinating cured foods in the world. For starters, it's a pickled protein, not a fruit or vegetable, and it's "cooked" with lemon or lime juice, then mixed with slivers of red onions, enormous Peruvian corn kernels, and slices of sweet potato, which absorb the tangy marinade.

If you're heading to Peru, be sure to spend a few days in Lima--everyone will tell you to skip it, but it's home to some of the best ceviche in the entire country. Nobu Matsuhisa learned to master ceviche and sushi at Toshiro's, where the Japanese-Peruvian fusion is clean and vibrant (try the ceviched scallops on artichoke hearts). Gaston Acurio, gets adventurous with bold combinations, such as the black scallops with yellow pepper sauce, at La Mar, a sophisticated al fresco cevicheria with cement floors, Bossa y Stones tunes, and palm trees. Pescados Capitales, a clever play on the Spanish phrase, pecados capitales--the seven deadly sins--is another urbane spot with impeccably fresh tiraditos and cebiches. Buen provecho!

Au Courant: Pickled Red Currants

The ban on growing black and red currants is officially over! Actually, it’s been over since 1966, but I suppose being out of sight, out of mind for nearly a century makes for a slow resurgence. At $4 per ½ pint in the NYC Greenmarkets, they’re clearly back in vogue.

Cluster branches of vivid berries on a charcuterie board; toss them with a salad of wild greens, toasted hazelnuts, and Maytag blue cheese; or test their gleam alongside a glistening roasted chicken.

1 pint red currants
1 cup dry white wine (I used Lillet because that's what I had in the fridge)
1 cup Champagne vinegar or white vinegar
3/4 cup muscovado sugar or brown sugar
1/4 tsp. black peppercorns
A few allspice berries
1 bay leaf

1. Combine all ingredients except currants and bring to a simmer for 5 minutes.
2. Allow brine to cool, and pour over cleaned currants into a pint jar. Cover and refrigerate.

Yes, it really is that easy. Refrigerated pickles last for one year.

A Peck of Pickled Peppers

There’s nothing modern about these heirloom hot peppers, but I had to post them as an ode to our pickle heritage. These garlicky, tangy pickles will be ready just in time for football season’s Bloody Marys, pulled pork sandwiches, and duck confit nachos.

1 lb. hot peppers--any kind you can find (Bulgarian carrot, Bacio di Satana, Serrano, Tabasco, jalapeno, habanero, etc...)
1 Qt. white vinegar
1 cup water
6 Tbs. kosher salt
8 garlic cloves
1 tsp. mustard seeds
1 tsp. Tellicherry peppercorns
3 dill heads

1. Wash peppers and cut an inch-long slit in each one.
2. Simmer vinegar, water, salt, and spices for 5 minutes.
3. Pour hot brine over pickles in a sterilized quart jar. Process for 10 minutes in a hot water canner.

Pickled Scuppernong Muscadines

When I came across these oversized, green and bronze grapes in Chinatown (for $2.50/lb.) I thought them to be newfangled plum-grape hybrids from China. Not so: Scuppernong muscadines were first discovered by the early colonists along the Georgia and North Carolina coasts. They've been used to make wine and jams since the 17th century, but today, I'm going to make them pickles.
At a recent James Beard House dinner, chef Joseph Truex (of Georgia's Château Élan Winery & Resort) served these with smoked foie gras roulade with vidalia onion relish and cane sugar gastrique--the inspiration for the sugar cane vinegar, which can be purchased from DeanandDeluca.com.

1 lb. Scuppernong muscadines
1 cup sugar cane vinegar (or Champagne vinegar)
1 cup dry white wine
3/4 muscovado sugar (or brown sugar)
8 allspice berries
1 Turkish bay leaf

Simmer all ingredients and stir until the sugar is dissolved. Fill a quart jar with washed muscadines and cover with hot pickling liquid. Allow to cool to room temperature, screw on lid, and refrigerate for at least two weeks (and up to one year).