Posts Tagged ‘chard’

A nice way with chard — sweet and sour

18 October 2021

A caponata-inspired, quick chard dish to tackle the enormous amount of vegetables that have, again, accumulated in my fridge.

On Wednesday I had a brief moment of panic when I opened the refrigerator. Vegetables crammed in each drawer, wedged on every shelf, and a few days coming up ahead with no time to cook.

Thomas and I put on some music and proceeded to wash, peel, cut through most of it: onions, kilos of leeks and courgettes, a whole bunch of celery, mizuna, spring onions, chard. The simplest battle plan, in such cases, is usually soup, and that is where I was headed. But there was barely enough room in my big pot, I needed to find another idea for the chard.

My thoughts wandered towards caponata, sweet and sour, pared down to the minimalist treatment: raisins and vinegar. I had a bunch of spring onions too… I’ve become a bit fixated on sautéed vegetables with spring onions.

The soup was good — speckled green on green, herby and blended smooth (always a great cause of debate in this house, as there are those in favour of blending, and those vociferously against!).

While the chard, practically an afterthought, turned out really great!

A nice way with chard recipe

One large bunch of chard, about 400g
Two bunches (about 12) spring onions
Olive oil
A handfull of sultanas (I’m quite partial to sultanas but raisins would be fine)
2 Tbsps red wine vinegar
1 Tbsp sweeter white wine vinegar, such as moscatel (or use cider vinegar)
Flaky sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

Trim the stalks of chard off the leaves, then cut off and discard the dried very end bits. Wash the stalks, cut them into 1cm (1/2 inch) pieces.

Cut the chard leaves into strips, roughly 5 cm (2 inches) wide. Wash them well — this might require two passes in cold water, as chard can be gritty.

Trim off the roots and any damaged leaves from the spring onions. With the flat of a large knife, squash the onions along their length. Cut the flattened onions into 5cm (2 inch) pieces.

Heat a couple of tablespoons of olive oil in a large skillet/frying pan. When hot, add the spring onions. Leave them on medium heat, without stirring, until they begin to turn brown — just when they start sticking to the pan. Now stir, add the chard stalks, lower the heat and cover the skillet with a lid (my skillet doesn’t have its own lid so I use one from another big pot, even if it doesn’t cover the pan completely). Cook gently for 7 to 10 minutes, until the stalks become slightly translucent.

Toss in the sultanas and the vinegars and cook for 2 to 3 minutes uncovered.

Now add the chard leaves, salt, and pepper, cover once more with a lid, and cook, still over low heat, mixing through occasionally, for 10 to 15 minutes. The chard (both stalks and leaves) should have softened completely.

Cool, then refrigerate, and ideally let come to room temperature before serving. This keeps in the fridge for a few days.

Chard and smoked salmon quiche

4 October 2021

I was writing about sloes, and then, this weekend, I made this quiche, sort of at the last minute. It is so good that I wanted to commit it to memory.

Quiches have come and gone in my kitchen over time, but they have always occupied a space of special affection because it was what I made the very first time I invited friends over for dinner. I must have been 15 or 16 and I can guess who was invited, though I don’t remember for certain, but I do know that I made one leek and one salmon quiche, both recipes transmitted from the mother of a friend.

This weekend, we had neighbours over for brunch. I say ‘neighbours’ because they were not yet friends, in fact I had never met them. Thomas parks his motorcycle next to his at the end of our road, and they have been chatting for years. We decided to finally meet for brunch, which is more casual than lunch, and better suited to her pregnancy than apéro. But what do you cook for people whom you don’t know? I usually have my friends in mind when deciding what to make, it’s where the inspiration sparks. The idea this time had to stem from elsewhere, it came barely a couple of hours before they arrived.

Just like that very first dinner so many years ago — when in doubt, make quiche.

Chard and smoked salmon quiche

1 pie pastry (or store bought)
4 shallots
1 large bunch of chard (rainbow or green)
Olive oil
200g smoked salmon
4 eggs
200g crème fraîche
Squeeze of lemon
Salt and freshly ground pepper
Gruyère or other hard cheese (optional)

Preheat the oven to 175C (350F) and generously butter a pie dish.

Peel and finely dice the shallots.

Prepare the chard: trim and discard the ends; slice off the stems, wash them, and cut into 1cm (1/3 inch) chunks; cut the leaves into 5cm (2-inch) strips, wash thoroughly in cold water, drain well or spin dry in a salad spinner.

Heat a large frying pan with a generous drizzle of olive oil. Add and shallots and chard stems and fry over medium to low heat, stirring regularly, until the shallots become translucid. Add the chard leaves, reduce the heat, if possible cover with a lid. Cook gently until the leaves are wilted, no longer.

Meanwhile:

Cut the smoked salmon into strips.

In a medium bowl, crack the eggs and beat well with a fork. Add the crème fraîche and beat some more. Add a generous squeeze of lemon, a pinch of salt, and generous grind of black pepper.

When the chard has wilted, transfer it from the pan to the egg/cream mixture.

Add a little olive oil to the pan, fry the salmon very briefly (one or two minutes) over high heat, so it takes on a golden tinge but doesn’t really need to be cooked through. Transfer the salmon to the egg/chard mixture with another squeeze of lemon and mix well to combine everything.

Roll out the pastry and transfer it to the buttered pie dish. Poke holes into the pastry with a fork. Carefully pour the filling into the pie, and smooth over with a spatula. Sprinkle some grated cheese over the filling if desired.

Slide the quiche into the oven and bake for 40 to 45 minutes until it becomes puffy and golden brown.

Can be served warm or cold, with just a big green salad, or alongside other dishes for lunch, or brunch, or a picnic!

Chard gratin

8 October 2020

October 8th. I’ve developed quite a crush on this dish since this August, when our friends brought us a big bunch of chard from their garden. I made a gratin, Louise had SIX helpings, which echoed what everyone was feeling, though we were perhaps not as quick. It has now settled into our regular weeknights.

Chard gratin

750g chard
75g butter
3 Tbsps flour (I usually use spelt though a traditional béchamel would be with wheat, and white or wholemeal depending on my mood)
500ml milk
Sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper
Freshly grated nutmeg
1 garlic clove
A little olive oil or butter for the pan
Grated cheese, preferably gruyère

Preheat the oven to 175°C.

Trim the rough ends of the stalks and any bits of damaged leaves, chop the chard into roughly 2cm (3/4 inch) strips, wash in cold water, and dry thoroughly ( I use a salad spinner).

To make the béchamel: Melt the butter in a medium saucepan. Add the flour and stir continuously with a wooden spoon until the flour and butter lump together and create a mass. Continue cooking briefly, then add the milk, one large splosh at a time, stirring continuously, until all the milk is used up. If the béchamel still looks quite thick, add some water until the consistency is edging towards runny.

Now season the béchamel with a generous pinch of salt, pepper, and freshly grated nutmeg. Taste and adjust.

Rub an ovenproof dish with the garlic clove and grease the dish with a very little bit of olive oil (or butter). Add all the chard, it should seem as if it’s too much => It will reduce a lot while it cooks. Pour the béchamel over the chard as evenly as possible so everything is covered. Now sprinkle enough grated cheese to cover the whole gratin in a thin layer.

Slide into the oven and bake for 30 to 40 minutes, until the top is golden.

Goes well with good sausages or a sturdy fish such as salmon.


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