A fiery autumn feast for all the senses
Roula Khalaf, Editor of the FT, selects her favourite stories in this weekly newsletter.
I live an eight-minute bicycle ride from New York’s Union Square Greenmarket. I generally go at least once a week. When you go as often as I do, you form relationships with the farmers. You remember their names, and with time, they remember yours. Beyond putting a face to a name, you become familiar with each other. They get to know your taste and tell you about the new bean variety they’re growing. They’ll sneak half a dozen eggs into your bag when it’s raining and you look like you could use a treat.
And you form habits. I’m in and out by 9am. I lock my bike in the same place. I get my coffee from the same place. And I walk the market from top to bottom before buying anything. This is the time to notice that the first aubergine has appeared on the same day as the last lily. You see the growth cycle of each fruit and vegetable. The aubergines start off small and more of a Byzantium purple. They are sweet and have thin, delicate skin. As the days go by, they become robust – almost black-purple, and more plump and round with thicker skin.
I’ve noticed that the market generally follows a chronological colour chart. The order follows the rainbow. The season starts in mid-April with shades of pale green – asparagus, spring onion and garlic, and then comes string beans and peas. Next is yellow – courgettes galore, followed by orange with carrots, peaches and apricots. At this point the season isn’t yet in full swing, but within a couple of weeks the colour transitions to red and the market really starts to explode with tomatoes, and myriad varieties of peppers, radishes and beetroots.
Now I’m enjoying a moment bursting with fiery reds and oranges. So a celebration of the bounty is in order.
Early this summer I visited a small restaurant in Nice called Chez Davia where the chef served small stuffed vegetables that looked like glistening little jewels. I took inspiration from that, as well as the rice-stuffed dishes I grew up eating in Egypt, and made a version that highlights the vegetables as an homage to the farmers, inviting eight friends to celebrate the earth’s generosity. I found that cooking one big dish (that happened to be vegetarian and didn’t contain gluten) was an easy way to make one meal that everyone around the table can enjoy with a couple of bottles of chardonnay.
End-of-the-season stuffed vegetables
When shopping for the vegetables it is important to select small ones that would be good for stuffing. Plan for each person to have two to three each depending on size.
Add 1tbsp of salt to a pot of boiling water and boil the rice for five minutes. Drain and wash with cold water, then set aside.
Prepare the vegetables for stuffing. Using a small sharp knife, chop off the tops and save – they will act as little hats after you stuff the vegetables with the rice. Using a teaspoon, scrape the insides of the vegetables and save the bits in a bowl.
Combine the parboiled rice with the chopped onion, parsley, coriander, basil leaves, allspice, lemon zest and juice, 3tbsp of olive oil and ½ tbsp of salt. Mix well.
Using a teaspoon, place a couple of teaspoons of filling into each hollowed-out vegetable and place their “hats” back on top to cover them.
Look for a pot that will fit all the vegetables together snugly side by side.
Add 2tbsp of olive oil to the pot, followed by the onion rings and the discarded vegetable membrane to create one layer.
On top of that layer, line the stuffed vegetables side by side until the pot is filled.
Add 120ml of boiling water to the pot and cover with a lid. Cook for 30 to 45 minutes or until the vegetables are tender and the rice is cooked all the way through.
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