Archived entries for chickpeas

Roast Eggplant and Chickpea Salad

Perhaps our diet has been lacking, perhaps I’m over the braises and stews of winter, perhaps it’s the slow way spring is toying with us, but all I want for dinner lately is a really good salad.

I’m not talking just cold greens. Main-course salads have been good to me lately–big bowls of refreshing, bright, clean flavors that no takeout can really satisfy. I could live on taco salad, steakhouse iceberg saladsquash panzanella, and I haven’t even gotten around to a giant duck salad yet this year.

This weekend’s iteration was a keeper: spinach and cucumbers tossed with a garlicky goat-cheese dressing, with piles of crispy, Moroccan-spiced chickpeas and silky, rich slices of eggplant. Depending how long you cook them, the chickpeas are almost like spiced nuts: rich, crispy, snackable. Take them out of the oven a little earlier if you prefer them soft.

You could add a dollop of hummus to the top of this salad if you wanted, or even some chunks of lamb, but that might be overkill. A garnish of mint and parsley wouldn’t hurt. In summer, this dish will be all the easier with the use of a grill; just slather each eggplant slice with oil and herbs and throw them on, turning once.

Of course, in summer, I’ll be all tomatoes all the time.

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Spice up your life: Chana Masala

I must have missed a memo.

You know, the one where Mother Nature announced that, owing to budget cutbacks and a shaky economy, we simply couldn’t justify having an autumn this year; that we would be heading straight into winter. I must have missed it, because Holy Good Goddamn, was I not prepared for the sudden nosedive that the temperature took last week.  At all. Nor was I pleased.

chana masala

I’m not ready for this, you may have heard me shrieking all the way in Iowa. I don’t even know where my sweaters are! Where is my hat?! My anguish rattled the windows and made ceilings collapse. It made small children cower and small dogs cower even more. It made poor Bench’s life a misery, until I made one stunning realization: now that the weather’s cold, I have an even BETTER excuse to spend entire Sundays in front of my stove, brewing up the time-consuming braises, stocks, and other delights that I never, ever have time for during the week. On this last Sunday, it meant I had time to make a real, live pot of chana masala–something I’ve been meaning to do for ages.

Ok, I know: chana masala does not necessarily require an entire day of stewing and futzing; unlike many curries, it is possible to build an acceptable depth of flavor in less than an hour. I, however, wanted to see what happened when it received the full treatment. So, I cleared my schedule and started with the spices, frying them in oil over low heat for about 40 minutes to draw out every iota of flavor (seriously–they didn’t even have a smell when I removed them from the oil) and then moved on to the onions, caramelizing them slowly over about three hours before hurling in the tomato paste, chickpeas, and yogurt. Time consuming, but absolutely worth it–the difference between this dish and my usual, weeknight-special chana masala was so pronounced, I’m not sure I have the words to describe it. The spice-infused oil gave the dish a deep savoriness, and the onions added a buttery sweetness–a perfect background for the tangy yogurt and tomato sauce. The flavors actually melded together (as opposed to my usual chana masala, which just kind of remains a collection of flavors as opposed to a cohesive new one), and it was utterly irresistible. Plus, it made the house smell AMAZING.

spices

So, while I would never be so foolish as to invite Mother Nature to bring on more weather-related heartbreak, if this dish is an indication of things to come…maybe I’ll make it through another one of these winters with my sanity intact. Maybe.

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Like Peas in a Pod: Orecchiette with Pancetta and Fresh Green Chickpeas

While we’re talking about fleeting seasonal produce, let’s talk about chickpeas. I mean, not what you think of as farm-fresh, right? Usually, I shake them out of a can, rinse, and proceed. I never even thought of what they might look like before canning.

But there they were, sitting pretty at the market: fresh, unshelled garbanzos. They look a bit like fuzzy edamame pods, stuffed full with chubby chickpeas. (Two per pod, usually.)

I had to have them. (I think you’ve heard that one before.)

Fresh chickpeas are delightful raw: a bit crispy, a bit sweet, tasting of green sweet peas almost as much as they remind you of the garbanzos you know and love. If you find them at your market, make sure to eat a few raw while you’re popping them out of their pods. Or, eat all of them that way.

That’s where the novelty is; I have to be honest. Once cooked into a pasta dish, I’m not sure these tasted that much different than my usual canned ones. They have a slightly better texture, and a slight sweetness, but I’m not sure that’s worth the trouble.

Not that this wasn’t delicious—it was rich and salty and savory and filling. Who would turn down pancetta and garlicky pasta, stirred with enough pasta water to make the sauce silken? Not you or me, we’re like two peas…

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Moroccan Chickpea Stew: Reliving a Memory

A few years back, we were at a group dinner celebrating the end of the semester when I asked our friend Adrian about his summer plans.

“I’ll be home in England for a bit,” he said, “and then we’re going to the south of France!” He began regaling me with stories from the previous year’s trip. I told him that Matt had a conference coming up in Europe and we were scheming a vacation there together, but hadn’t decided on a specific destination. “You should join us!” he nearly shouted, inviting us then and there to stay with his family and a crew of his university friends in Mediterranean paradise. When I said I’d never won a contest or sweepstakes, I may not have been entirely honest. Scoring that invitation was like winning the lottery.

gigaro, france

We spent mornings wading in sparkling water and attempting to paint the scenery, then enjoyed leisurely lunches topped off with slices of plum tarts from the nearby farmstand. One friend played Spanish guitar while the others philosophized and occasionally threw each other into the pool. Evenings, we took turns cooking decadent meals that started with pastis and local saucisson, anchoide and tapenade that we picked up at the outdoor market. Adrian grilled spicy merguez over charcoal, and we made huge platters of couscous piled with vegetable stew to pass around the long outdoor table. We drank rosé from the vineyard down the road, and devoured cheeses which melted as we cut them. I cannot imagine a better week.

When I heard that one of the boys from the trip was visiting New York, I schemed a dinner party that might remind us a little of those late summer outdoor meals in France. I put Adrian and Ed in charge of cheese, and delegated dessert to another guest, making my responsibilities pretty stress-free.

We started with a sweet and savory olive-fig tapenade recommended by Kari from Anticiplate. (Here’s the recipe.) Topped with creamy Humbolt Fog goat cheese, it made the perfect accompaniment to a flute of sparkling wine.

Since they’re Adrian’s favorite, I fried up some merguez in my heavy cast-iron pans (it was too rainy to grill). But I think the star of the show was the Moroccan braised vegetable dish I made to serve with couscous. Smoky with cinnamon and harissa, sweetened with fresh apricots, carrots, and tomatoes, this easy stew was deeply satisfying, inexpensive, and perfect for making ahead of a weeknight dinner party. It definitely improved with a day’s rest, as many braised dishes do: the flavors deepened and blended overnight. You could add butternut squash, zucchini, cauliflower, or whatever vegetables you have on hand. Just make sure they are cooked through before you chill the stew.

It may look like I’m asking you to add a million spices to this dish, but believe me, it’s worth it. The original recipe is simple and perfectly nice, but the added spices make the sauce haunting and deeply flavored. If you happen to have Ras el Hanout on hand, you could substitute it, but most of these spices should be in your pantry already, so there’s no need to hunt down a premixed blend. (If you’re looking to use up some Ras el Hanout, check out this recipe from Shiv for spicy glazed carrots!)

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Sunshine in a bowl: Triple garlic chickpea soup

soup

In my neverending quest to poke Winter in the eye, I have three stalwart friends: sharp cheese, sunny citrus, bright garlic. The holy trinity of deep winter, if you will. Rare, however, is the occasion where I manage to give them all equal prominence; usually one will take the wheel while the other two bicker in the backseat. So, I’m sure you can imagine my thrill when I devised a recipe that allowed all of them to shine equally.

I was inspired by Orangette’s chickpea salad, a quick recipe that, in its simplicity, transforms the humble ingredients to something ethereal in its deliciousness. It being Winter, I decided to transform it from a salad to a soup; being me, I also opted to chuck in plenty of garlic, done up three ways: roasted, sauteed, and raw (I know, I know–raw garlic sounds kind of scary; but I promise you, it just adds a wonderful sharpness to the flavors).

chickchickchick

The triple garlic action gave the soup a wonderfully heady, complex flavor (at once mellow and sharp), while the parmesan imbued a creamy saltiness that balanced it perfectly. The lemons sang without screaming. All the flavors were present and accounted for, clear without being overwhelming.

Next time, I think I might add a bit of sauteed pancetta–I think the salty chewiness of it would accent the rest of the flavors beautifully–but I would not go so far as to say that this tangy bowl of sunshine NEEDS such an accent; I’m just a little greedy that way.

Triple garlic chickpea soup

3×15 oz cans chickpeas, rinsed and drained
2 heads garlic (1 roasted, one separated into cloves, peeled and sliced)
1/2c shredded parmesan cheese
juice and zest of 1 lemon
1-2 medium sized onions, peeled and diced
2 quarts water or stock

  1. Preheat your oven to 350.
  2. Slice the top off one of the heads of garlic; drizzle it with olive oil and wrap loosely in foil. Meanwhile, rinse and drain one of the cans of chickpeas; toss with some olive oil and salt and place on a rimmed baking sheet. Bake until the garlic is soft (about 1 hour) and the chickpeas are golden but not burnt (about 20 minutes)
  3. Meanwhile, heat some olive oil over medium-low heat in a heavy-bottomed saucepan; saute the onions until translucent and then add half the sliced garlic. Sautee for another minute or two, until everything is extremely aromatic.
  4. Add the remaining two cans of chickpeas to the saucepan and let cook for a moment with the onions.
  5. Add the water (or stock); bring to a boil then reduce heat. Add salt and pepper to taste.
  6. Add lemon juice, parmesan cheese, roasted garlic, and the remaining garlic.
  7. Using a hand blender, puree the soup until a nice smooth consistency, adding more water/stock if it seems too thick
  8. Add roasted chickpeas
  9. Serve with a garnish of lemon zest and parmesan cheese.


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