Cauliflower is a brilliantly versatile vegetable. Besides for being yummy in its own right, it can craftily be utilized in previously carb-crazy recipes. Such as pizza. Or sushi. And—which, like, totally blew my mind—potato salad. Potato salad! POTATO SALAD!!!
I served steamed cauliflower with Ta's paprikás, and he, the pasta lover, actually affectionately referred to it as "nokedli." High praise indeed. One doesn't use the term "nokedli" idly.
Inspired by a NY Times article, I tried roasting cauliflower whole. It was daubed with a concoction composed of olive oil, nutritional yeast, mustard, and garlic. One can just stick to oil, salt, and pepper, though. Then a little time in a 350 oven.
Now, ain't that purdy?
For the Purim seudah I tried a Cauliflower-Parsnip-Leek Soup, and holy mackerel, was it delicious. I based it off a few recipes, so the ingredients (and cooking times) aren't an exact science. Since I blended it, nothing has to be chopped beautifully.
I thoroughly sweated (not browned) 1 onion and 3 leeks (green parts too), along with a few shakes red pepper flakes, in some oil for 10-15 minutes. I then added 6 chopped parsnips, and stirred them thoroughly in, and let 'em go for a bit, too, until nice and fragrant. 4 cloves of garlic around now, too. Then 2 chopped heads of cauliflower. Another stir into the divine oiliness. Some salt, too, to help everything wilt.
I leisurely let it all sweat some more, then eventually added some soy milk (water is also fine). I was cautious with the liquid because one can always add more water; taking it back is not possible (vegetables also let out tons of H2O). Simmer, simmer, simmer. At some point, the stinkiness of the cauliflower morphs into a deliriously sweet aroma. When everything is nice and limp, sprinkle in some black pepper (and more salt if desired), and blend. The results may be thick enough to require more liquid; do add and blend, until ideal texture is reached.
For the Purim seudah I tried a Cauliflower-Parsnip-Leek Soup, and holy mackerel, was it delicious. I based it off a few recipes, so the ingredients (and cooking times) aren't an exact science. Since I blended it, nothing has to be chopped beautifully.
The pot before . . . |
I leisurely let it all sweat some more, then eventually added some soy milk (water is also fine). I was cautious with the liquid because one can always add more water; taking it back is not possible (vegetables also let out tons of H2O). Simmer, simmer, simmer. At some point, the stinkiness of the cauliflower morphs into a deliriously sweet aroma. When everything is nice and limp, sprinkle in some black pepper (and more salt if desired), and blend. The results may be thick enough to require more liquid; do add and blend, until ideal texture is reached.
. . . the pot after. Licked and scraped clean, I kid you not. |
I had been nervous about freezing it, that maybe the pretty paleness would go all dingy, but no. It remained an appealing cream shade, not a hint of gray.
Don't forget about cauliflower fried rice. And cauliflower popcorn! There's mashed cauliflower, too. OMG, OMG, cauliflower shepherd's pie!!! We have a winner!
Pesach doesn't have to mean potatoes. This non-brocker has been redeemed!
Don't forget about cauliflower fried rice. And cauliflower popcorn! There's mashed cauliflower, too. OMG, OMG, cauliflower shepherd's pie!!! We have a winner!
Pesach doesn't have to mean potatoes. This non-brocker has been redeemed!
2 comments:
Roasted cauliflower, yum!
I just went to visit a friend and she made cauliflower mushroom soup, really good. Did not even need salt.
That sounds like a wonderful combination. And heck no, it wouldn't!
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