Swiss Chard Tart with Pine Nuts and Raisins

The end of February marked the 3 year anniversary of this blog. On 2/21/2011 I wrote my first post, about an eggplant dish I made from one of the first vegetarian cookbooks I bought after Michael decided to eat vegetarian.
I have been reflecting about my motivation on writing here, posting recipes, taking pictures of my food, and honestly felt a bit demotivated about it all for quite some time now. Nothing good can come from comparing your writing, your recipes, your pictures and your life in general to that of other bloggers.

I'll spare you all the self-criticizing thoughts I had in the past weeks/months, because what I mainly want to say today is: I just love to cook. Basta. That is the reason I started writing here those 3 years ago and still, this is the reason I come back to this space after being absent, again, for quite some time.
I realize it is already March, but back on New Year's Eve Michael and I talked about the highlights of 2013, and mentioned Marcella Hazan's Torta di Biete, or Chard torta as one of the best things I had made in 2013. It's been a while since New Year's Eve, so I am really sorry to have kept this recipe for myself for so long. (Although it is published in The Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking, so it is hardly a secret) You really should have had the opportunity to make this since January 1st, with Swiss chard being in season and all.
The original torta is crustless, but there is a whole mess of toasted breadcrumbs involved. You could definitely make the recipe as Marcella Hazan wrote it (I found a closer version to the original here) and there is absolutely nothing wrong with it with this sort of breadcrumb crust. I came to prefer the version with a crust though, if only because the crust makes it easier to steal a slice here or there out of the fridge.

Fall Minestrone

Autumn Day

Lord: It is time. The summer days were grand.

Now set your shadows out across the sun-dials

And set the winds loose on the meadowland.

Bid the last fruits grow full upon the vine,

do them the good of two more southern days

then thrust them on to their fulfillment, chase

the final sweetness into bodied wine.

Whoever has no house yet will build none,

Whoever is alone will stay alone

And stay up, write long letters out, and go

Through avenues to wander on his own

Uneasily when leaves begin to blow.

Rainer Maria Rilke (Translated by A.Z. Foreman)

And to go with the poem I love so much, here is a autumnal minestrone, to enjoy on one of those short and somewhat dreary fall days we happen to have here. (Though the temperatures are supposed to go up for the weekend, yay!)

Fall Minestrone
Adapted from the minestrone alla romagnola by Marcella Hazan, and this minestrone I found on the Dinner: a Love Story blog.

120g dry cannelini beans (or 400g of the canned variety)
1 bay leave
salt

8 tbsp olive oil30g butter
3 onions, sliced
4 carrots, diced
2 stick celery, diced
2 large fennel bulb, diced
200g potatoes, peeled, cut into small squares
150g shredded Savoy cabbage
150g Swiss chard, chopped into small pieces
1,5l vegetable broth, or bean cooking water (but do not use the liquid that is in the cans, if using canned)
160g canned, whole Italian tomatoes
1/2 tsp smoked paprika (optional, if you don't already have it at home)
parmesan crust (optional)
parmigiano-reggiano to serve

If using dried cannelini beans: Cover the beans with 3cm of water and let soak over night.  In the morning, or before starting your soup, cook them, adding a bay leave, salt and some smoked paprika, until done, for about an hour. Set aside the cooking liquid to use as the broth for this soup.
In a large saucepan, put the olive oil, butter and onion on low-medium heat. Let the onion cook, uncovered, until it becomes soft and fragrant and starts to colour slightly.
Add the carrots, and cook for 2-3 minutes, making sure to cover it with the oil. Then add the celery, fennel and potatoes one ingredients at a time, stirring a few minutes before adding the next. Cook for another few minutes after adding the potatoes, add the cabbage, let cook for 5 minutes, then add the broth, the tomatoes, the parmesan crust if using and a little salt. Give the soup a good stir, then cover the pot, turn the heat to low and let the soup cook for as long as you can manage. Marcella Hazan says 2 1/2 hours, I'd say 1 hour should be more than enough to get a least a decent pot of soup. Add the cannelini beans and stir and cook for another 30 minutes.
Just before serving, remove the cheese crust and add freshly grated parmigiano-reggiano, about 3 tbsp. Only then taste for salt and add more if necessary. Let the soup cool down a bit before serving.

Serves 6-8 (According to Marcella, but for us two it made just enough to serve for dinner twice)

Brussels Sprouts, Celery and Chard with Tofu

There are very few things that I did not like to eat when I was a kid. (A fact that is probably related to my mothers insisting on us eating everything she cooked, no matter what). So I liked most things that landed on my plate, expect for a period of time when I did not like beets, the phase of aversion against a salad called Chinese cabbage here, and the Brussels sprouts I was only confronted with when I visited my great grandmother together with my grandma.
There are only a few things I remember of her. She spent the last few years suffering from Alzheimer's, unable to talk or to recognize her daughters. But years before that, I sometimes went to visit her, together with the grandmother I wrote about last week. And one thing I distinctly remember is the small of boiled Brussels sprouts wafting all through her apartment. Still to this day, Brussels sprouts remind me of her and the house she lived in with its garden and the girls in the neighbourhood I used to play with.
I did not like Brussels sprouts back then, but thanks to my boyfriend, I came to really like them. Sautéed until slightly crispy, drizzled with a little maple syrup, they are completely different from the Brussels sprouts I was served in this apartment all those years ago. Maybe you never like them, either. But they are a totally different vegetable when not cooked to death, still crunchy in some places, caramelized in others, sweet and salty at the same time.

Linguine with Red Chard

When I saw Red Chard in the supermarket I was intrigued by its color. I just had to take it home with me. After looking through my cookbooks I came up with this recipe. It was inspired by a recipe I found in "tibits at home". (tibits is a small restaurant chain that only serves vegetarian food, and this is their cookbook) The original recipe called for a creamy sauce with lots of milk and cream, but since I wanted to highlight the flavor of the chard I made something simpler.