Green Season
We often joke that, in the Pacific Northwest, there are only three seasons for cooking: red, brown, and green. Red season is the carnelian wave of late summer and early fall. It brings tomatoes, peppers, corn, and stone fruit. Brown season - the long, rhythmic march of winter - is only just receding. Now we’ve sprung into the lush embrace of green season.
Spring is fashionably late up here, north of the 40th parallel, often waiting until June to shed the overcoat, throw open the doors, and sashay into the party. But that makes us savor it all the more. And once it gets here, well…the party doesn’t really start until Spring arrives. I was just back in Minnesota for a wedding, and the city was dancing - swept up on tiptoe by the dashing arms of sunlight and trees overflowing with fresh green leaves.
Dancing. That’s what springtime cooking should feel like. Don’t think too much. Grab as many green vegetables as you can find, and if you just move your hips a little bit, close your eyes and feel for the rhythm of the flavors, you’ve got dinner. This week we’re serving the greenest green salad with an excess of crunchy vegetables, all tied together with a bushel of fresh herbs and a rich, herbaceous green goddess dressing.
It’s not like we’re going to eat nothing but salads until the end of July. But the tender abundance of green season is a good reminder to try our vegetables raw before we jump right into sauteing, roasting, and blanching. The “greens” of this week’s salad provide some good examples.
I usually think of asparagus as something to be cooked. But if the spears are fresh, young, tender, trimmed, and sliced very thinly, they’re wonderful served raw. The only way to know this, however, is by tasting. If the bunch you bring home ends up being a little woody, blanch them for a minute. Always be tasting.
English peas can go either way. Snow and snap are usually tender enough to eat raw, shells and all. But English peas can be a bit starchy. A quick blanch will render them perfectly tender. Again, the only way to know this is by tasting. Baby bok choy is almost always tender enough to eat raw, but sometimes, if I’m eating rice and dumplings, I want it steamed, wilted a bit.
Knowing how vegetables behave in their raw state informs the cooking technique. Close your eyes, trust your senses, and do what feels right. And if you choose poorly, don’t stress. It’s just dinner. And it’s nice outside.
We’re glad you’re cooking with us.
Cheers,
Sten and Mac
KITCHEN TIP
Never say “it’s just dinner” to a chef. I know I just said it. But that’s the point: it’s my line. At my core, I do believe this. We’re not EMTs - mistakes do not result in tragedy. Knowing this is how we remain calm and encourage our staff (after years of practice) when service is not going particularly well.
Once, when I was taking a beat to survey the house floor, squinting like Clint Eastwood during the three-way gunfight at the end of Once Upon a Time in the West, fingers twitching just a little bit, one of our regulars walked by and said “take it easy, man, it’s just dinner.” To be fair, he was a little drunk. To be clear, he is still alive. But let’s just say I haven’t forgotten.
