Measure Free Recipes Book

The Measure Free Blog

Summer Soups, Smoothies & Strawberry Mint Ice

19 June 2009 by Jean Johnson

It started with Cucumber Melon Soup in Cooking Beyond Measure–this business of whizzing up delicious concoctions in the blender. Historically, of course, my affair with blended things began with smoothies in the Sixties–the old faithful banana-yogurt-honey-wheat germ routine.

Given such a sagacious history, it hasn’t been too much a leap to start riffing around on Cucumber Melon Soup. I’ve got a recipe for Mango Mint Ice coming out in Hippie Kitchen, and at the moment I’m playing with a Strawberry Mint Ice that most likely will make the pages of the third in the measurefree trilogy, Grow Your Own: From the Garden to the Table.

But Grow Your Own won’t be out until next year, and it’s strawberry season right now. So here’s the skinny on Strawberry Mint Ice. Blend berries, a little water or milk, mint leaves, tiny pinch of salt, conservative splash of balsamic vinegar, and sugar with lots of ice. Then spoon it right down.

strawberrymintice

That’s it except for the Spicy Watermelon Ices I’ll be sampling out for Fourth of July down at Whole Foods in The Pearl. I could spell out my approach to this number as well, but I’m thinking that if it gets hot and you’re in the mood, you’ll come up with something pretty cool on your ownsome. Yes?

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Grandma-GK’s Rhubarb Pie for Birthdays & Graduation

7 June 2009 by Jean Johnson

I’ve got Hippie Kitchen on the brain since we’re winding up the last edits for the printer. So here’s another sneak preview. I broke with my usual whole grains mode and made this pie with 100 percent white flour. That’s because we were celebrating Laura’s 60th, and her health has temporarily insisted on paleface food. The excuse was nice, though, and all of us marveled at how flaky the crust was. If it sounds good to you, rhubarb’s still in season and you might even know someone that’s graduating. There really is nothing better than homemade pie, and it’s not that hard.

rhubarbpie

Grandma-GK’s Rhubarb Pie

There’s the clump of rhubarb Grandma planted out back. Then there’s decades of listening to Prairie Home Companion’s Garrison Keillor talk about how Beebop-A-Rebop Rhubarb Pie “takes the taste of humiliation out of your mouth.” Between Grandma and Beebop-A-Rebop, I had to give a nod to the institution of rhubarb pie.

Recipe Note

Use a ratio of two parts flour to one part fat for your crust. In this case, I used two cups of unbleached white flour and two or three pinches of salt to two cubes of cold butter pared off in bits with a small knife. That way the butter’s fairly easy to work into the flour by pressing the bits flat with your fingers. Then little splashes of ice water, using your hands to help the dough come together gently. All the recipes I consulted call for glass, nonreactive pie plates for rhubarb, so I used one, although as you can see, I set it in a giant cast iron pan to help the cause of getting the bottom done.

A couple pounds of chopped rhubarb—or enough to mound nicely into one large pie shell—takes a little less than a cup and a half of sugar and around a third cup of thickening like tapioca flour or just regular flour. Use a nonreactive bowl to keep the rhubarb from darkening. Then a little bold spice is fun. I used allspice that I ground fresh in the coffee grinder. And once I got the lattice on and painted with a wash to make it shine—an egg white stirred up with a little water—I sprinkled more allspice on the crust as well.

Bake in a hot, 425 degree oven for ten minutes to jump start the bottom crust. Then back the heat off a good hundred degrees for a slow cook on the fruit and the top crust. Check your pie fairly often and turn it, since if your oven’s like mine it’s hotter at the back.  Pies are done when the tip of your sharp knife signals soft fruit within.

Details

When I worked at My Mom’s Pie shop way back, I’d make pies during my off hours and take wedges into the owner, Jean McLaughlin, for critique. Her main tip was to not get up tight about working the fat into the flour perfectly.  And I did find that my crusts got flakier when I trusted the dough and myself more. I started getting two thumbs up from Jean as well, who wondered aloud at one point if I was planning on opening my own pie shop and turning into her competitor. I didn’t do that, but I kept up with the pie making, even learning to flatten the rim of the crust some after you crimp the top and bottom crusts together. That way the edges won’t burn and there’s no need for those strips of aluminum foil some want you to mess with.

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Flash Cooking and Asparagus

23 May 2009 by Jean Johnson

Flash cooking is the term I’ve coined for getting veggies ready pronto. Here’s the way I describe the technique in Hippie Kitchen, the second in my measurefree trilogy due out this fall:

“To flash cook vegetables, start with a puddle of water, spices if you’re in the mood, and high heat. The idea is to use just enough water to cook your vegetables, adding small pours as you go—making sure to get things that take the longest to cook in the pot first.

My favorite vehicle by far for flash cooking is a cast iron wok because it holds the heat so beautifully and turns the vegetables crisp tender in minutes. But as I’ve discovered cooking in other people’s kitchens, regular woks, heavy bottomed skillets, and generally any pot or pan rattling around in the cupboard will be your friend.”

Since I’m drawing from Hippie Kitchen, I might as well give you a sneak preview on my approach to flash cooking asparagus, our beloved spring vegetable that’s everywhere at the moment.

flashcookasparagus

“Put a skillet or wok on high heat with a good pour of water. Snap the tough ends of your asparagus off and put the spears in the skillet. Splash in more water now and then to keep the moisture going while the gus cooks. The goal is to wind up with tender asparagus just as the last of the water evaporates—but if you don’t, just save the remaining broth for your next batch of rice—or drink it right up. When the end of one of your thicker stalks is soft to the tip of a paring knife, cut the heat and dress your gorgeous green spears with olive oil, fresh lemon juice, salt, and a grind of pepper.”

If you’re intrigued at this ultrafast way of cooking but would like to see how it works, I’m doing a quick noon class on Saturday, May 30 at Whole Foods Market in Portland’s Pearl District. They’re only charging $10, plus they’re knocking 20 percent off Cooking Beyond Measure, the first volume of the trilogy.

Here’s what Whole Foods in The Pearl has to say about the event: You don’t have to be gourmet to eat well-and affordably! Join cookbook author, Jean Johnson, for a quick class on quick cooking. Take home ideas on making ultrafast everyday food with fresh seasonal produce. Please RSVP to hold a spot to: sandra.hemsworth@wholefoods.com

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Crepes for Mother’s Day

8 May 2009 by Jean Johnson

Crepes if you must, but as I say in the recipe below from Cooking Beyond Measure, we just call these easy babies Rolled Ups. Crepes have an aura of being special–and hard to make. Special, yes. But au contraire on the latter.

For those who really think crepes are beyond them, read on or better yet cruise over to the Hillsdale Farmers Market this Sunday at noon. I’ll be in action, and you can have a taste. If you can’t make the market and want a rolled ups class, I’m doing one in June at Whole Foods Market in The Pearl as part of their “You Don’t Have to be Gourmet to Eat Well” series. (Date TBA on the Where’s Jean page.)

In the meantime here you go, straight from Beyond Measure:

rolledups

Rolled Up Pancakes

They’re called crepes today, but when I was growing up we just called them rolled ups. Mom made them on weekends because although they are easy, they do take time. If you give these a try and get some confidence going, know that they’re great for corralling cooked vegetables as well.

Recipe Note

Beat in one egg for every cup of milk you use. Sprinkle in a little whole wheat pastry flour at a time and whisk. The goal is a silky batter comparable to a thin gravy. Add a pinch of salt and some vanilla, and let it set ten minutes or so.

Bring your pan up to medium heat and oil with a dab of butter. Then get ready to be quick on the draw. Ladle on some batter, very quickly lift the griddle, and swirl the batter around to coat the surface. Cook until the edges start to lift. Flip the thin pancake so the other side gets golden brown as well.
Details

Mom, and Aunt Kirsten Wilson who was also known for her rolled ups, used white flour for theirs. But once I got swept up in the late-1960s and its Appetite for Change—a phrase coined by Warren Belasco as the title for his book on “how the counterculture took on the food industry”—I’ve favored whole wheat pastry flour. Buckwheat flour also works as the world of blini makers well know. Actually, finely ground flours from the range of whole grains will work in rolled ups: cornmeal masa, quinoa, brown rice, millet, you name it.

The secret to rolled ups is being quick once the batter hits the griddle.  It takes some practice, so expect rolled ups that look more like maps than perfect discs at first. Even these, though, will work since the edges are hidden once you roll them.

It’s often the case that you have to go back and add more milk or flour to get a batter that flows just right.  With patience, though, you’ll find that making this special breakfast is not hard—only so time consuming that if you’re cooking for a crowd you’ll inevitably want to get two griddles going.

When I was young we ate rolled ups with butter and sugar, but these days a filling of warmed poached fruit and cottage cream sends me over the top. Sometimes I’ll even go for pear wedges and beanpaste (p. 33).  Then again, there’s the Scandinavian way that Aunt Kirsten favored: butter and raspberry jam—or the more traditional lingonberry.

On Learning Curves—

If rolled-ups sound daunting to you, all you have to remember is to make them the next time grandpa’s around. Then just whisper to him that no matter how they turn out, he’s supposed to ooh and ahh. That’s what they do in Hopiland. Cooks learning to make piki bread, something much more difficult than rolled-ups, always present their first efforts to grandpa. That’s the patriarch’s cue to tell the fledging cook how delicious her creation is and eat the offering with great delight, even if it’s thick and the ladies are teasing her about how it looks a map.

On the Griddle—

There’s nothing like a cast iron griddle. Not only does it carry heat that cooks evenly and browns beautifully, all there is to cleaning is a quick wipe with a cloth. Between my griddle and cast iron wok, each of which have staked out rather permanent claims on the stove top, there is little washing of pots and pans going on in my kitchen.

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User-Friendly Kitchen Counters

25 April 2009 by Jean Johnson

keepingthingshandy

This post is for one of the women at the last cooking class I did. I was talking about how much it streamlines cooking when you keep things you use a lot out handy. She wanted to know what was out on my counter.

Well, here it is–at least this is how it looked at one point not long ago by the looks of the unheaded cabbage from the garden that I was getting ready to flash cook.

Mainly there’s a bunch of vinegars and even a wedge of lime left from the last go round. Beyond that in the fun yellow dish is salt, red chile pepper in the green depression glass, a black pepper mill, cinnamon and a pretty spoon in the orange pot, soda in the tiny powder blue dish, and whole nutmeg in the white dish with the piano score.  Oftentimes there are bouquets of fresh herbs too–big ones of parsley and cilantro when I get those herbs store bought and a small one of mixed herbs from my garden, the various sprigs of summer savory, mint, thyme, rosemary, and sage each clamoring to be chosen. There’s usually a bottle of good oil sitting there as well to complete what are essentially the components for making vegetables taste good–whether you’re dressing a cold salad or dolling up a soup or warm salad.

This is just my scene at the moment, though. You can count on it to change as I get on a roll with this and that. Sometimes the dry mustard will come out of the cupboard and take a handy place. Other times there might be a bottle of fish sauce lurking about–since after being in Thailand I discovered how fabulous a conservative squirt of this anchovy elixir makes so many dishes, Thai or not, taste. Then again, sometimes the spices aren’t around at all when I switch into a mode of working mainly with the classic quartet our grandmothers understood so very very well: oil, vinegar, salt and pepper.

Having things out handy. It doesn’t take much. You get to be an artist if you want and stash your bits and bobs in pretty vessels. Mostly, though, when it comes time to cook, things are at the ready and you’ll find yourself less inclined to grab bottles of prefab dressings and sauces. As my grandmother used to say, “Here’s hoping…”

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Cooking for the New Economy, Thai-Style

10 April 2009 by Jean Johnson

thaislaw

Who better than to take cues for economizing than the Thais. For centuries these creative southeast Asian cooks from  have used local, seasonal ingredients and a flair for building flavor right in the bowl to regale eaters far and wide. Americans, in particular, have fallen in love with Thai food with it’s enticing balance of salty, sour, spicy, and sweet.

This Thai Slaw is out of Beyond Measure, and I patterned it after a green papaya salad I learned to make when I was in Bangkok. It’s easy, affordable, healthy, and delicious–so much so that I’m featuring it in a number of cooking classes this spring along with a hot and spicy shrimp soup, Thai-style.

Green papayas, of course, are plentiful in Thailand. But here, you have to go to an Asian market to get this exotic fruit. So what I’ve done is acted like a Thai would and substitute the ubiquitous, cheap cabbage for the papaya. From your base of shredded cabbage, it’s easy to add shredded carrots, onion, and ginger. Then just toss the vegetables with minced garlic, a chop of fresh cilantro and dates, and some tiny dried shrimp if you can find them–if not, the fish sauce will take care of the salty scene.

Push the flavors in this Thai Slaw over the top by dressing with fresh lime juice, fish sauce, and crushed red chile. And if you want a garnish, toss on some chopped peanuts and coconut–and enjoy your local-seasonal trip to the tropics.

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Wall Street Journal Plumbs Depth of Measure Free Trend

2 April 2009 by Jean Johnson

No joke, we got coverage in the Wall Street Journal on April 1st. The story consulted many big names, although it danced around the empowerment issue of measure free cooking. Nonetheless, word’s getting out. Momentum’s building. Yes! Leave your measuring cups behind and take back your kitchen!

Here’s the article in all it’s glory–plus photos we inserted just for fun here on the blog. Thanks to Laura Berg and Thea Pyle for posing with our dear, sweet Cooking Beyond Measure:

THE WALL STREET JOURNAL

“A Shift to Recipe-less Cooking: Some cookbook authors are moving away from the rigidity of recipes and advocating improvisation in the kitchen”

By PERVAIZ SHALLWANI

Since the late 1800s, when recipes as we know them today were first widely introduced, home cooks have been increasingly creating dishes using line-by-line lists of measured ingredients and detailed directions.
[improvisational cooking] Maria Robledo

Sally Schneider, author of “The Improvisational Cook,” with cookbook author Jim Peterson (”Sauces”).

But as people look for quicker and easier ways to make everyday meals, some are moving away from the rigidity of recipes and advocating improvisational cooking, where measurements are approximations and ingredients are interchangeable.

Among them: Marc Matsumoto, a freelance writer and marketing consultant, who launched the Web site NoRecipes.com a year ago. The site’s motto: “No recipes: Cooking is more fun without them.” Mr. Matsumoto focuses on technique and inspiration, rather than detailed instructions, when he writes about his off-the-cuff creations that include spicy lemongrass soft-shell crab, and shrimp and duck gumbo.

“I think 50% of cooking is technique and a lot of people don’t learn the technique and rely on recipes as a crutch,” says Mr. Matsumoto, 32, who first learned to cook from his mother. His advice: “Throw yourself in the kitchen. Learn about ingredients, not just knowing that fennel is green with the white bulbs, but fennel tastes like licorice and goes well with other flavors like citrus and beef.”

laurareading1

Food historian Jean Johnson is also advocating improvisational cooking as she tours the country promoting her measurement-free cookbook “Cooking Beyond Measure,” published in August by Seventy-Sixth Avenue Press. She teaches home cooks to be “fluid” so they can look to their cupboards instead of the grocery store when a dish calls for an ingredient they don’t have. “I find that after the work day, to have to follow one more set of directions before dinner seems to hit a nerve,” she says.

Indeed, improvisational cooking “is a reaction, in a way, to super-programmed cookbooks where everything is legislated down to exact measurements,” says food historian and author Anne Mendelson, whose most recent book, “Milk,” looks at the history of dairy. “Recipes didn’t used to be necessary. They are sort of lab manual cookery in a way.”

The rise of recipes that use precise measurements is widely credited to Fannie Farmer, a student, and later, director of the Boston Cooking School, who published “The Boston Cooking-School Cookbook” in 1896. Until Ms. Farmer’s manual, cookbooks were written in prose, calling for a pinch of this or a handful of that.

“The Boston Cooking-School Cookbook,” which survives today as “The Fannie Farmer Cookbook,” featured nearly 2,000 recipes that gave detailed instructions using a standardized system of measurement (teaspoon, cup, etc.). Ms. Farmer also included scientific explanations with her recipes, and wrote essays on housekeeping and cleaning. The rising middle-class and subsequent growth in the number of women looking to homemaking as a profession turned Ms. Farmer’s book into a hit — it has sold more than 4 million copies to date.

Today’s recipes are still built on Ms. Farmer’s model of listing level measurements for each ingredient and directions that include exact temperatures and times. But with more people having little understanding of the basics of cooking and how to adapt it, plus the advent of chef cookbooks featuring hard-to-recreate restaurant recipes and stylized photos, some home cooks are overwhelmed by what they call excessive details.

“I think we have gone too far in making recipes too rigid,” says cookbook editor and author Judith Jones, vice president at Knopf publishing house, who brought to life Julia Child’s “Mastering the Art of French Cooking,” among many other cooking tomes. Ms. Jones says “persnickety” details in recipes, such as asking for a specific size onion, mandating “fussy” ways of cutting vegetables and listing expensive or hard-to-find ingredients, are frustrating home cooks.

In response, she’s writing an upcoming book, “The Pleasures of Cooking for One,” to be released in October, which will feature simple recipes and give tips for different ways to use extra ingredients or leftovers over several days. She plans to address some of the basic tenets of cooking, such as understanding what a teaspoon of salt feels like in your palm so you don’t have to measure it every time. “You get a freedom and it gives you a feeling to be more creative,” Ms. Jones says.

But the reason cookbooks are loaded with details these days is not without warrant. Home cooks more than ever today don’t know the basics of cooking — once learned by watching parents or grandparents in the kitchen. Frozen entrees and instant meals have left many needing exact instructions when trying to cook a dish from scratch.

“The food editors had to educate,” says former chef Sally Schneider, who has written two books on the subject of improvisational cooking. “The way they did that was to be more explicit with their recipes.”

Ms. Schneider focuses on teaching cooks to deconstruct dishes into their basic tenets: know how different ingredients taste, build on successful meals and be okay with making mistakes.

“Once you learn to look at recipes, you can see that there is a structure to them,” Ms. Schneider says. “That might be the thing to respect until you learn the variables. Suppose you see a recipe that has peas in it, and you go to the market and don’t see peas, but you see lima beans. Using similar ingredients is a way to start.”

theareadingbook2

Ms. Johnson also suggests experimenting with variations on a dish. “Cooking starts with building a foundation, for example, taking leftover steamed quinoa and dressing it with fruits, nuts and honey for breakfast,” she says. “Add vegetables or a cooked piece of meat and a little salad dressing to make a light lunch or a hearty dinner.”

But improvisational cooking may not be for everyone. Mark Bittman, author of “How to Cook Everything,” says that for someone who doesn’t have some grounding in basic cooking methods such as roasting a chicken or properly heating a pan before searing a piece of meat, recipe-less cooking will probably be a loss. And baking, which often requires more precise measurements and temperatures, can be difficult to execute off the cuff.

“I think beginners want and need recipes,” he says. “You do have to know some things when you start cooking.”

Thomas Griffiths, associate dean at the Culinary Institute of America, says that even his chefs use recipes as a guide. But he teaches formulas that allow them to adapt existing recipes.

“When I teach a cooking class, I leave lots of blank pages for notes,” Mr. Griffiths says, “because when you cook a recipe, there is so much gray area. You make a change by experimenting.”

Five Tips For Improvising in the Home Kitchen
Taste

Figure out what flavors you like, and also which ones pair well together. But remember that not every ingredient tastes the same each time. Also, know what ingredients taste like before they are cooked — it will help you to spot the flavor in a dish. “Taste real sour cream and low-fat sour cream and describe the difference,” says author Sally Schneider. “A whole world of senses opened up,” which helps one know how to improvise with a dish.
Focus on Techniques

Using the right kind of oil or heating the pan to the right temperature is going to result in a better piece of meat than any amount of fancy spice rub or marinade, says NoRecipes.com’s Marc Matsumoto. Learn some of the basic skills, such as how to beat eggs or sauté vegetables, which you can apply to multiple dishes. Also, cook different vegetables and meats so you get a sense of cook time for various ingredients – this will come in handy when throwing together a sauté or adding extras to a pasta.
Learn to Make Versatile Bases

Most stocks and sauces that come out of a jar are easy and cheap to make. Cook yourself a big batch at home, and you can freeze it use in a variety of dishes. For example, instead of throwing away chicken bones, turn them into a broth that can then be made into a soup or used to make risotto or a flavorful pot of rice. Or make a marina sauce that can be used in a variety of pastas, pizza or egg dishes.
Substitute Ingredients

Beans are often interchangeable, cauliflower can usually take the place of broccoli, and chicken can many times replace pork. This is how new dishes are often created. Experiment!
Don’t be Afraid to Make Mistakes

Most every dish started out a mistake somewhere along the road, where someone threw ingredients together and adjusted to meet his or her own tastes, says cookbook author Mark Bittman. If you don’t make mistakes, you’ll never know what works — or not.

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Soupy Soup with Cauliflower and Limas

28 March 2009 by Jean Johnson

cauliforsoupysoup
Soupy Soup, a brew on p. 100 of Beyond Measure, is named after the elderly lady doggie who used to live next door. The spring day I first pulled the soup together, the weather was warm enough to draw me and my bowl outside. Who was waiting by the daffodils but the lovely, slow-moving Soupy. It was a contemplative moment supping in the presence of a soul beyond her prime, but still a creature so enthralled by life that every subtle whiff on the breeze was cause for fascination.

In Soupy’s company, I found fascination too. Fascination for the feel of the warm bowl in my hands. Fascination for the smell of the broth wafting upwards on slender tendrils of steam. And deep appreciation for the wintry favors that melded together in this pale shade of spring offering.

To make Soupy Soup add a chop of cabbage, onion, and cauli to nothing more than a boil of water and a pinch of turmeric for color. Finish this cleanly flavored soup with cooked lima beans, a drizzle of good oil, some zest and juice from a fresh lemon, and a chop of flat leaf parsley.

( I know the picture I found for today’s posting has garlic, ginger and some asparagus as well. That’s why I didn’t use it in Beyond Measure. But it’s such a nice shot that I wanted to share it with you. All that said, I imagine that Soupy Soup would benefit handsomely by these additions.)

If you’re not vegan you can even gild the lily with some freshly grated Parmesan and a some paprika. And if you need more salt than the limas I cooked at home brought with them, of course, bring it on.

Also if you’re into exploring the world of flavor some, put the onion into the water first and give it some time. Then taste the broth, and see what you think about onion power. Similarly, I’ve found tasting before and after the lemon and parsley rather revelatory–and empowering, since now I use these things not because some authority says to, but because I understand their ability to make food taste fabulous.

Finally, for those of you who’ve not seen Soupy immortalized in Beyond Measure, here she is.

soupy

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Spring Salad on a Theme of Tabouleh

16 March 2009 by Jean Johnson

springsalad

Who says tabouleh must always be made with bulgar wheat and the requisite parsley and mint. Surely not a creative cook who understands grain salads. Ditto for Spring Salad on a Theme of Radishes and  Jicama from Cooking Beyond Measure. No need to start with spaghetti squash if there’s a pot of quinoa all cooked up and just waiting to be chosen in the fridge.

That’s what I did at two cooking demonstrations hosted by the Multnomah County Library recently. Paired quinoa with all manner of fresh spring vegetables plus a few surprises. The dish earned rave reviews at each event, and everyday cooks in attendance said they were inspired to try Spring Salad at home. I hope you are as well. It’s easy. It’s delicious. It’s very polite to our bodies and the planet.

Here’s the Recipe Note from Beyond Measure:   Grate radishes and peeled jicama into some fluffed spaghetti squash and chopped spring onions. Dress with olive oil and red wine vinegar. To please the tepid and the intrepid, garnish with parsley, chile flakes, soynuts, and Parmesan.

Here’s what I did at the libraries:   Grate radishes and peeled jicama into some leftover quinoa, chopped spring onions, and minced cabbage. Dress with olive oil and red wine vinegar. To please the tepid and the intrepid, garnish with parsley, chile flakes, and a bit on whatever sweet you happen to have on hand, be it raisins or white chocolate chips. (I know the chocolate sounds like sacrilege, but it works when you feel like being naughty.)

Radishes, of course, are those early spring stalwarts from the garden that Americans throughou history have relied on. Here’s the peon I wrote to them in the side bar for this recipe:  

I’ve long since forgotten the name of the novel, but I remember the radishes. They were prized as the earliest vegetables the spring offered, and the lead female character in the book who was of  embarrassed financial circumstances wished above all other things, for fresh radishes. Oh, how she yearned for them after a long dark, winter. Crisp, crunchy, fresh radishes.

A world on more classes:

For Portlanders interested in the free library classes, there are three more coming up.

  • Fairview-Columbia Public Library, demo and signing, “Leave Your Measuring Cups Behind and Take Back Your Kitchen,” 3-4p, March 28, Troutdale, Oregon
  • Rockwood Public Library, demo and book signing, “Lighten Up in the Kitchen for Health and Wealth,” 2-4p, March 22, Portland
  • Northwest Public Library, demo and signing, “Easy Spring Eats for the New Economy,” 6:30-8p, April 15, Portland

There are also two hands-on Thai classes at Whole Foods Markets in the Portland area. There is a $30 fee that includes a copy of Beyond Measure for these limited seating events, so if you’re interested, call ahead to reserve your spot.

Here’s the scoop on those:

    HANDS-ON CLASS: COOKING FOR THE NEW ECONOMY WITH JEAN JOHNSON
    Saturday, April 4th 3-5pm $30
    Learn to eat well and tighten your belt by getting into the Thai groove. We’ll make “Hot and Sour Shrimp Soup, Thai-Style” and “Thai Slaw” from Johnson’s new book, Cooking Beyond Measure. The price of the class includes a copy of the book. Limited seating available.

    Call 503.645.9200 x260 to register for the April 4th, 3-5p class at Whole Foods Market, Tanasbourne in Hillsboro.

    Call Mea at 503.645.9200 to register for the May 1, 6:30-8:30pm class at Whole Foods Market on Fremont in Northeast Portland.

To round out the Pacific Northwest spring offerings, I’m in Seattle mid-April at Whole Foods Stores. We’ll also do Thai dishes there. If you want info on those please shoot me an email at thecook@measurefreerecipes.com or cruise over to The Cook page here on this website to view my complete schedule.

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From the Sick Room to the Signing Table, Vegan-Style

3 March 2009 by Jean Johnson

marchparsley

I talked to my pal Matt yesterday. His kids have both been down with the flu. It’s almost the same here as I’ve been nursing a cold. What to do other than get the soup pot on. I always make Golden Noodle Soup when I’m sick. It’s from that great vegetarian cookbook, Laurel’s Kitchen.

For the broth, saute some onions and garlic in oil. Add water, turmeric,  and yellow peas. Once the peas are soft, strain off the clear golden broth as a base for the soup, and either freeze the peas for later on or send them off to the compost.

The soup is as you’d expect: diced carrots, potatoes, and celery. Then once the vegetables are done some noodles–and when they’re done, some fresh parsley. I always have to have a pat of butter in my soup bowl too. It makes all those golden beads like on chicken noodle soup. Still, if you skip that, or use olive oil, you’ll have a proudly vegan soup.

Aside from this soup tasting great and being so healthy I was able to make it to a book signing, it’s a pleasure to make as well. Your chopping board starts looking like a still life. It helps, of course, to have a menagerie of wooden animals hanging about in your kitchen. As you can see, on this occasion the resident bird, Persia, was overseeing operations even as her flat back made for a handy place to put the garlic.

jeanyardandgardenshow

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