Red Cabbage, Orange and Date Salad

Red cabbage is one of the best winter vegetables by far. It last forever but has a wonderful earthy sweetness, perfect for a late night quick stir fry. But I find that cooks often don't know what to do with red cabbage. Besides your typical braising (which, let's not lie, is phenomenal) and the aforementioned stir fry, what's to be done with it? Yes, yes, coleslaw will work in a pinch but the loads of mayo the dish requires completely masks the glory that is the red cabbage.

Well, Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall may have found the answer. In his section on the Guardian's "Best Christmas recipes" he features a salad that was so unusual in its ingredients that I simply had to try it. Who would have thought to combine raw cabbage, *grated* parsnip and orange juice for a salad? To be honest, I was dubious. But the wonderful sweet mixture of dates with the root vegetables, not to mention a healthy dose of white truffle oil and some nuts, was absolutely divine. In Hugh's recipe, he sticks to the simplicity of only the orange juice, olive oil, and thyme. But add in some walnuts or pecans, not to mention the secret weapon of truffle oil, and the dish becomes sublime.
Another bonus point?
It takes five minutes to make.
This makes the second of the glorious "raw food" salads I've stumbled onto over the years (the first being Bittman's raw butternut squash salad). And I've yet to find a reason to dislike them. Curse them for their simplicity.

Serves: 4

Ingredients
2 oranges
1/2 small red cabbage, core removed and finely shredded
3 parsnips, peeled and grated
2-3 small handful dates, chopped

2-3 handfuls of walnuts or pecans, chopped
3 tbsp olive oil

1 tbsp white truffle oil (optional, if you don't have some lying around, just up the olive oil by a tablespoon)
1 tsp fresh thyme leaves

Squeeze the juice from the oranges into a small bowl.

Combine the parsnips and cabbage in a large bowl. Add the dates and nuts. Trickle the olive oil and truffle oil (if using), then sprinkle the thyme leaves on top. Serve at once.

Crisp Potato Cake (Galette de Pomme de Terre)

My household suffers from an abundance of potatoes. Thanks to the glorious veg box, we get a bag of "spuds" every week. Now, we try and get our starches in when we can, but we've simply gotten lamentably behind and now we have a pile of unused and unloved spuds piled high on our kitchen counter.

This called for immediate action.

Thus: the galette (courtesy of the NY Times). Which seems to be nothing more than France's answer to a plethora of potatoes. And in true French style: you slice them and arrange them prettily in a saucepan. Oh, and add heaps of butter.

Unsurprisingly then, this recipe was delicious and an amazingly easy way to use up potatoes quickly. And  how pretty! You get to invoke your hidden Michelin starred self and crow about the joys of neat spiralled spuds. And you get to pull out the old mandoline slicer and strive not to cut your fingers off with it. It's a win, win.

Ingredients

2 pounds (about 3 medium) potatoes, peeled and sliced very thinly
1 tablespoon olive oil, or as needed
Freshly ground nutmeg
Freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon minced fresh parsley
1 tablespoon minced garlic
Salt
Fresh thyme leaves for garnish (optional).

Method

1. Pat potatoes dry if very starchy or moist. In a sauté pan large enough to fit potato slices in just two layers, spread 1 tablespoon oil and sprinkle with nutmeg and pepper to taste. Starting in center, arrange potato slices in a closely overlapping, attractive spiral. When pan is filled, repeat to make a second layer.

2. Place pan over medium heat and cover. Slowly cook potatoes until well browned on underside, about 15 minutes, occasionally shaking pan gently to avoid sticking. Wipe inside of lid as needed to keep it dry.

3. Press potatoes down with a flat spatula and remove from heat. Place a larger platter over pan and flip it upside down, transferring potatoes to the platter. Check pan to make sure it is clean and has enough oil to keep potatoes from sticking.

4. Slide galette, raw side down, back into pan, and return to medium heat. Cover and cook until well browned, about 15 minutes. Meanwhile, prepare a persillade by combining parsley and garlic in a small bowl. To serve, slide galette onto a serving platter, season to taste with salt, and garnish with persillade or thyme.

Yield: 4 servings.

Blue Cornbread

There are a few things that I've brought with me from my home state of Arizona. A tortilla press. A precious bag of ground chiles of various heats. And a full bag of blue cornmeal, pride of Arizona farmers. The English seem not have realized  but corn in America comes in a variety of shapes, sizes, and, most importantly, colors (yes, yes, beyond the various shades of "yellow" and "white"). Any harvest festival will feature the ubiquitous "Indian corn", which features a fabulous variety of dark purples and reds. But there is also the famous "blue corn", found almost exclusively in Arizona and New Mexico, which is so dark on the cob that it almost looks purple to the naked eye. When ground into meal it gives tortillas and breads a wonderfully nutty quality, a bit more earthy than any other kind of cornmeal I've ever experienced.

I don't use my blue cornmeal often (although I technically I need to before its "sell by" date), but Thanksgiving is the perfect excuse to show the Brits a thing or two about American corn. And what better  way than with cornbread, another typically American concoction? Like biscuits, there are about a thousand and one recipes for cornbread, some involving actual corn kernels, some just sticking to the meal itself. I decided to pick one that emphasized just the cornmeal. Once the Brits decided that the blue coloring in the bread WASN'T mold, it went down a treat. Of course, there's no real reason for blue cornmeal in this recipe, plain ol' yellow cornmeal will work just as well. But, if you do happen to have some of the blue stuff lying around, why not use it?

Ingredients

5 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and cooled
2 cups cornmeal (preferably stone-ground and most preferably blue)
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 1/4 cups well-shaken buttermilk (not powdered)
1 large egg

Method

Preheat oven to 425°F with rack in middle.

Whisk together cornmeal, salt, baking powder, and baking soda in a large bowl.

Whisk together buttermilk, egg, and melted butter in another bowl, then stir into flour mixture until just combined.

Scoop batter into a well-oiled loaf or cake tin (mine was 9" diameter). Bake until puffed and golden-brown and a wooden pick inserted into center comes out clean, about 20 minutes. Let cool in tin for about 10-15 minutes. Turn out onto a rack to cool. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Sage Parmesan Crackers

Everyone likes to have at least one "crowd pleaser" recipe in their collection. And if that recipe happens to be the easiest thing in the world? So much the better. These sage crackers were a spur of the moment decision a few years back, taken from Mark Bittman's gloriously helpful "101 Head Starts to the Day" (the NY Times has apparently been helming the culinary delights of Thanksgiving for years). I wasn't quite sure what to expect of them, as they were honestly too simple to be trusted. But when they disappeared out from under me, I realized I had a goldmine on my hands. Now they're trotted out every Thanksgiving. I've also taken to doubling the recipe, because of the thin crumbly nature of the crackers, they tend to yield a fairly small amount once cut into squares. They also may provoke moments of panic when you realize there's no physical way to "roll these out" as Bittman suggests. I've taken to literally patting them into shape on the baking sheet and cutting them afterwards. It saved me a mountain of frustrated rolling and allowed me to enjoy these little sage-y parcels even more.

Ingredients
1 cup flour
1 tsp salt
1/2 cup grated Parmesan
4 tbsp cold butter
1/4 cup cream
2 tbsp finely chopped sage.

Method

Preheat over to 400 F. 

Mix 1 cup flour, 1 teaspoon salt, 1/2 cup Parmesan and 4 tablespoons cold butter either in a large bowl or in a food processor. Add 1/4 cup cream and 1 tablespoon finely chopped sage.

When just combined, roll as thinly as possible (or simply pat into the baking sheet), score into squares, sprinkle with salt and bake at 400 degrees until golden.

Let cool, then break into pieces.

Cranberry-Quince Chutney

Cranberry sauce. You can't have Thanksgiving without it. Although a (small) part of me holds a fond remembrance for the canned sauce (you know, the one that held the "can" shape), there is something true and good about making your own. And thankfully, unlike pumpkin, England embraces the cranberry (as they also feature cranberry sauce as part of their traditional Christmas meal) which makes it relatively easy to find in the markets around this time of year.

Along these lines though, I can't help but yield to the experimentalist when it comes to cranberry sauce. Every food website even marginally connected with the US right now features at least 10 recipes for varieties on the sauce. Thick, thin, spicy, sweet, you can find almost any ingredient or style you could imagine. After spending way too many hours on the internet scrolling through versions of the "world's best cranberry sauce", I ended up going with the recipe found in my ancient copy of the Thanksgiving 2009 issue of Food & Wine. This was perhaps the last physical copy of a recipe magazine I ever purchased, but it has proved its use for two years now and I can't fault it yet. Although I would never make a quince cranberry sauce in the US (good luck trying to find them in Arizona), England also seems to be busting out all over with the fruits currently, making tracking down ingredients a cinch. It did make an absolute vat-full of sauce however, so if you're NOT planning on feeding 30 people at your next Thanksgiving, you might want to think about halving the recipe.

Time: 1 hour

Makes: 6 cups

Ingredients
1 tbsp. canola oil
1 small onion, minced
2 tbsp. minced fresh ginger
1 garlic clove, minced
1/2 teaspoon ground allspice
1 star anise pod
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 cup cider vinegar
3 quinces (8 ounces each), peeled, cored, and finely diced
1 Granny Smith apple: peeled, cored, and finely diced
1 12-ounce bag fresh/frozen cranberries (or 340 grams)
1/2 cup golden raisins

Method
In a large saucepan, heat the oil. Add the onion, ginger, garlic, allspice, and star anise and cook over moderate heat, stirring, until the onion is softened, about 5 minutes.

Add the sugar, vinegar, and 1 cup of water and bring to a simmer. Add the quince, apple, cranberries, and raisins and cook over low heat, stirring occasionally, until thick and jammy, about 25 minutes.

Discard the star anise. Serve the chutney warm or chilled.