Eat Food. Not Too Much. Mostly Plants.

I'm thinking of getting an inspirational Michael Pollan poster for my kitchen.  I assume there is such a thing, the foodie equivalent of a kitten dangling from a branch with the caption "Hang in there."  My Pollan poster would say, as Michael does, "Eat food.  Not too much.  Mostly plants."


Simple to the point of smugness, right?  But this slogan has become a touchstone for me.  I hear it in my head and sometimes even say it out loud while I am cooking.  I didn't previously think of food as plants, or plants as food.  Plants were the African violets in pots on the windowsill, and food was meat, vegetables, fruit, or worse, fat grams and carbohydrates.  A tragedy to reduce bread and pasta and similar wonders to mere "carbs" and a nice, oily vinaigrette to fat.  But now I realize (duh) that spinach is a plant, eggplant is a plant, wheat is a plant, beans are a plant, soy is a plant, even olive oil is a plant.  Everything that I heap on my plate now, where the meat used to be, is a plant.

Last night I made one of my favorite things, a White Bean Jumble from my beloved little orange guide, The Student's Vegetarian Cookbook by Carole Raymond.  I love this cookbook.  Every recipe in it is easy, serves one or two, and features real food, mostly plants.  The White Bean Jumble is composed of potatoes, white or red, cut in chunks and steamed until tender, onions and garlic sauteed in olive oil, one tomato chopped, and whatever green vegetable you have on hand.  The recipe calls for kale, which I love but do not always have in the fridge, so spinach (raw) or broccoli (steamed) would be good additions.  This time, I used Brussels sprouts.

I am a Brussels sprouts convert.  As a child, I would have endured torture before voluntarily consuming a Brussels sprout, although I was a pretty good, non-picky eater for the most part.  Even as an adult, I had avoided Brussels sprouts, partly because they were linked for a time in my mind with a man I dated.  We'll call him Mark, and he lived in a church home (that is, he was one of several boarders in the house that his minister owned; my roommate and I called it the Reformed Presbyterian Home for Wayward Boys), and on Wednesday nights, everyone belonging to the church (some 12 people--it was a small sect) would attend a prayer meeting and then eat Brussels sprouts.  Not quite like that, of course, there were other foods on the table, brought by well-meaning souls, but the most earnest of all of the offerings were the Brussels sprouts, a big bowl of shiny, cabbagey-smelling, boiled Brussels sprouts.  I stuck instead to the mac and cheese, which in the South counts as a vegetable anyway.  

Now, though, I love Brussels sprouts, and also turnip and collard greens and many other foods which I previously disdained.  How does this happen?  My boyfriend's tastes were mostly set, and in stone, in childhood, which is why he will still eat Fruity Pebbles and beef jerky, and also McDonald's, which I think I am off now for good.  Several of our friends agree that a McDonald's hamburger and fries "tastes like childhood" to them, which is an alarming commentary on American childhood, although I have no right to judge: my childhood tasted like Krystal's cheeseburgers and Arby's Jamocha shakes.  My adulthood tastes, though, have evolved, maybe because I have not in adulthood been confined to the dinner table and ordered to finish my peas.  I also eat fresh food, prepared differently than it was in the 1960s and '70s (I still can't eat canned spinach, for example).  But for whatever reason, I am now a huge fan of Brussels sprouts, and especially love them oiled, salted and roasted, or steamed lightly and tossed into the jumble.

White Bean Jumble

2 large red or white potatoes
1 cup chopped firmly packed kale leaves, with stems removed OR 1-2 cups of brussel sprouts, quartered
2 - 4 teaspoons olive oil
1/2 cup chopped onion
1 clove garlic, chopped
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
1 tomato, chopped
1/2 - 1 cup canned white beans, rinsed and drained
Salt and pepper

1. Wash the potatoes, cut them into 1/2-inch chunks and steam until tender, about ten minutes.  If using Brussels sprouts or broccoli, steam with the potatoes.

2. Heat oil over medium heat.  Add the onions, garlic and thyme.  Saute until the onion softens, about three minutes.  Add green vegetable and tomato and saute 1-2 minutes more.  Add potatoes and beans and heat through.  Salt and pepper to taste.

I sprinkled with fresh grated parmesan and served with Country Cornbread (whole wheat flour along with the corn meal makes it "country," and very good), also from the Raymond cookbook.  And there was my meal, real food, not too much, mostly plants.

And then I had a cream cheese bar (familiarly known to some as Ooey Gooey Butter Bars) with homemade vanilla ice cream and a splash of lemon liqueur.  But hey, I used organic dairy products, it's still vegetarian, and I am still vegetarian (mostly) and feeling good.

Dinner with the Girls and a Butternut Squash

So, I am planning a dinner party, very casual (which is to say that I will vacuum but probably won't dust or mop), with some girlfriends on Saturday night.  No boys will be present, so I can serve vegetables as the main course.  That's unfair, probably, to suggest that all boys dislike vegetables just because my boy does.  But it does seem that men need, or think they need, meat in a way that women just don't.  When I was a child, whenever my father traveled for work, Mom and I had meatless meals like cheese souffle or waffles for supper, and it seemed a particular treat to skip the pork chop, the steak, the meatloaf.  How backwards this is from the olden times when meat was scarce--because animals were hard to catch or expensive to raise--and people lived a plant-based diet by default.   Now, meat is easier (at least easier on the consumer, still pretty hard on the animals) than vegetables.  I could buy a piece of meat in a plastic tray covered with cellophane, throw it in a hot pan, and there's dinner (for a man, anyway).

Instead, for the girls I am going to make Butternut Squash and Parmesan Bread Pudding, and it will be a bit more work, mostly because of the squash itself.  For me, butternut squash falls into the category of how-did-anyone-think-to-eat-this foods.  Oysters are another obvious example.  In fact, how did anyone ever think to eat animals in the first place?  Probably by watching other animals, I suppose.  I realize that predation is a fact of life.  But if I had been the first human in charge of finding food, meat would not have been on the menu.  Not just because I am soft-hearted and squeamish (which I am) but because I lack that particular kind of imagination.  If I didn't know about meat, I simply would not look at a cow in a field and think "food."  I might wonder if the cow would mind if I joined her in the field for foraging.  Perhaps there would be berries or edible flowers out there.  And I am observant enough to see that cows produce milk, and it would occur to me, I am pretty sure, to drink the milk.  I might even make the leap to butter and cheese, and thank goodness that someone did, I love butter and cheese.

But it is not in my nature to think, "You know, that big hairy animal out there, if I cut its throat with a knife, and then skinned it, and disposed of the feet and the horns and any other pointy parts or potentially squishy inside bits, then carved it into large chunks and heated those chunks over fire...well, that might be dinner."  It is enough for me that I can take a squash, the impervious butternut squash, and make it a meal.  But I can, no one has to get hurt (at least if I carve carefully, no one does), and it is a delicious and healthy supper.

Here is the recipe for Butternut Squash and Parmesan Bread Pudding, from my wonderful Cooking Light Complete Cookbook (2006), which has a good Meatless Main Dishes section.  You should totally serve this with kale. 

• 3 cups (1/2-inch) cubed peeled butternut squash  (Click here for tips on how to cut the darn thing.)
• Cooking spray 
• 1/2 teaspoon salt, divided
• 1 teaspoon olive oil 
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• 1 cup chopped onion 
• 1 garlic clove, minced
• 2 cups 1% low-fat milk (I use whole milk, more on which later)
• 1 cup (4 ounces) grated fresh Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, divided
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper 
• 1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg
• 3 large eggs 
• 2 large egg whites (Or just use 4 - 5 whole eggs)
• 8 ounces (1-inch) cubed day-old French bread, about 9 cups.  I used up bread that I had in the house, some of which was whole grain.  I think it made the pudding heartier and tastier than just French bread would have.   

Preparation

• Preheat oven to 400°.
• Arrange squash in a single layer on a jelly-roll pan coated with cooking spray. Sprinkle with 1/4 teaspoon salt. Bake at 400° for 12 minutes or until tender. Remove from oven; reduce oven temperature to 350°.
• Heat oil in a medium nonstick skillet over medium-high heat.  (Use more oil if you need it; olive oil is a healthy fat!) Add onion; sauté 5 minutes or until tender. Add garlic, and sauté 1 minute. Remove from heat; cool slightly.
• Combine remaining 1/4 teaspoon salt, milk, 1/2 cup cheese, pepper, nutmeg, eggs, and egg whites in a large bowl, stirring with a whisk. Stir in squash and onion mixture. Add bread, and stir gently to combine. Let stand 10 minutes. Spoon into a 2-quart baking dish coated with cooking spray. Sprinkle with remaining 1/2 cup cheese. Bake at 350° for 45 minutes or until pudding is set and lightly browned.

Marie Simmons, Cooking Light
OCTOBER 2004