July 2010 Archives

When I was very young my family lived in Northern Indiana. We would go for walks through fields and woods near my house and would pick up acorns and leaves and milkweed pods along the way. I loved playing with the silky threads inside those pods, which I would use to make hair to go under the hats of the acorn people I created. Today I saw milkweed for the first time since those days- at the New Amsterdam Market of all places! The foragers at Wild Gourmet Food were there from Vermont, nestled in among the cheese mongers and bread bakeries and wineries under the FDR expressway near the South Street Seaport- right in front of the now defunct Fulton Fish Market. They were selling wild mushrooms, wild ginger and -yes!- milkweed. I had no idea it was even edible, and when I asked the purveyor about it she told me that it could be steamed, sautéed or roasted just like asparagus. Or, she suggested, a more adventurous cook could split the pods along their spine, remove the silky strands, and boil them to make a cheese-like sauce for vegetables or pasta. Then the empty husks could be steamed or blanched and then filled with cream cheese for a unique party food. I couldn't resist. We bought a baker's dozen for $3.50 and were off on a culinary adventure.

Among foragers who write on the internet there is some debate as to whether milkweed needs to be boiled in multiple pots of water in order to remove its bitterness. Since the woman who sold the pods to me didn't mention anything about such onerous undertakings, I just sautéed the things for a couple of minutes in olive oil, added a generous sprinkle of salt and pepper, took a deep breath, and sampled. So how does it taste? The pods have a very mild taste and salt, pepper and olive oil were lovely on them. They do have a slight bitterness, but nothing that made them outright yucky. It is not dissimilar to okra, but instead of the mucosal slime those pods produce, the inner fibers take on a cheesy texture (only slightly slimy) when cooked- so in a way it's like eating a cheese-stuffed okra pod. They were an interesting adventure, but something about the texture is definitely an acquired taste. The Brain Trust declared that if he were "stranded in the wilderness and needed sustenance, these would be ok." I pretty much agree.

This was a fabulous year for strawberries! Early June farmers markets were stocked to the gills with green quart cartons of small, sweet-tart darlings. We bought six quarts for $20 and I set about preserving a taste of early summer. In Kazakhstan I learned to make a traditional style jam from my Turkish host family: 1 part fresh fruit to 1 part sugar. It makes a jam that is thin--more like fruit preserved in thick, sweet, flavorful syrup. We would eat it spooned onto fresh bread or stirred into a strong cup of black tea.

My book on preserved foods, Putting Food By, seconds this method. I added rhubarb to cut the sweetness and lemon and ginger to capture that summer-fresh taste. The Brain Trust had an inspired suggestion for a few jars- jalapenos! I boiled the mixture on the stove until it seemed to be thickening. Meanwhile I prepared my jars, washing them in scalding hot soapy water and boiling the lids. I also prepared a water bath for the filled cans.

I ladled the cooked jam into the pint jars and processed them in a boiling water bath for 10 minutes. The result--delicious! The non-jalapeno version is an excellent jam--perfect on a slice of bread with some cultured butter or cream cheese! And the jalapeno version... well it's just out of this world. About 5 years ago in Austin Raspberry-Chipotle sauce was all the rage poured over cream cheese and served with crackers. This Strawberry-jalapeno jam is perfect for that purpose but instead of the dark richness of chipotle it has a bright fresh zing of fresh jalapenos. Definitely a summer recipe we'll keep for years to come!