by Cynthia Graber
I’d so been looking forward to Ana Sortun’s class. Not only was it a cooking class with one of my favorite chefs, owner of Oleana, but it took place at the spin-off bakery, Sofra. I adore the space, and there’s a big, open kitchen. On top of that, the topic was one that filled me with frissons of excitement—early spring greens! True green, living edible morsels that were just starting to grow in New England! For late April, that felt like an elusive dream. Not only were these New England’s first greens, but they were some I’d never used before: sorrel, ramps, and the infamous stinging nettles. Could it get any better for a color-starved New Englander?
At first, I have to say I was disappointed. Somehow, I imagined a cooking class meant we’d be, well, cooking. In Sofra’s gorgeous kitchen. As Maura Fitzpatrick (baker and pastry chef extraordinaire) and Ana took their places by the cooking utensils at the front of the room, I began to regret spending money just to watch them cook. But, on second thought, it mad sense: there were about 15–20 of us, and how could they ensure that we’d take appropriate care of all their carefully honed knives?
So I swallowed my temporary disappointment, and my enthusiasm increased as the cooking got going. We perched around the small, Middle Eastern tables and listened raptly as Maura poured hot rosewater syrup over rhubarb to create a compote for milk pudding with labne. I’ll be making both in the weeks ahead.
Ana Sortun took over the induction hot plate (yes, the cooking all happened on a super duper hot plate, which fires up in no time at all). And here’s where things really took off. She made cooled mashed parsnips with green garlic and sugared almonds. Sorrel was pureed with butter for a bright green, lemony flavor, perfect to cook with fish. She pickled ramps by first braising them in oil with some water to keep the temperature down and prevent the ramps from being fried. Then she cooled them and stirred in balsamic vinegar. I asked questions about her techniques and about the vegetables, scribbling down nearly illegible notes alongside the pages of recipes.
But for me, the highlight of the afternoon was the simplest dish of all: nettle soup. Stinging nettles, to be exact, and they do in fact sting. To deal with nettles, one must wear thick gloves. Who ever made it past the discomfort of touching them to try to eat them? But whoever that is, I long to grasp their well-stung hand in thanks.
The soup was straightforward. Drop the nettle leaves into boiling water and leave them for five minutes, long enough to soften and defang them. The resulting water is vegetal and rich with nutrients, while the leaves remain brilliant green, no ice bath needed.
Once the nettles are cooked and cooled, Ana pureed them in a blender with some of the cooking water and a little bit of salt. The final ingredient was a dollop of cream. If it’s possible, the whipped nettles glowed an even brighter shade of emerald against the pale creamy globules of fat.
That’s it. That’s everything you need to prepare nettle soup. Ana suggested heating it and spooning it over fresh peas, or wild mushrooms, or bits of noodles. She served the soup with bits of noodles and peas. Any and all would work. But the nettles! The nettles! They embodied spring with all its green grassiness, the fat softening and enhancing the flavor. I crave nettle soup.
Ana assured me that if I ask, her husband Chris will bring nettles to his Siena Farms stand at the Copley Market. The market open the week of May 20th. I’ll be asking. That weekend I’ll be cooking. I’ll let you know how it goes, gloves and all—and I’ll share the recipe once I recreate it myself.
Photo: (cc) Annie&John on Flickr
I'm so excited about your blog, Cynthia! Will you add your lovely CSA's URL to your site? www.heavensharvestfarm.com
Farmer Laura (Held)
Posted by: Farmer Laura | 07 May 2009 at 08:11 PM