The Omnivorous Fish

“What, you’re eating spinach?” you gasp! Yes, dumbass, I never stopped eating spinach. The spinach I’m eating was grown in Shushan, NY, and it went from the field to a crate to a truck to me. End of supply chain. There wasn’t a packing plant with migrant workers living in and around it to impregnate it with E Coli, and even though nobody likes getting something free more than me, that is one thing I’ll pass on. Do you have any idea where your food comes from? I do.

Holy christ, I love Le Creuset. I remember seeing those enormous enamelware beauties on The French Chef and Today’s Gourmet when I was a kid, wondering how much better they would cook than much of the disappointing cookware my mother had around the house. Her basic pots (from when she got married) were pretty good, but other than those 3 or 4 pieces, the cookware at our house was lacking. Assorted nonstick pieces bought at the supermarket, and crap, flimsy stainless steel inherited over the years made up the balance. Revereware was a highlight.

Now I have several Le Creuset pieces, and I know why Julia and Jacques were so wild for them. They are heavy, but lighter than their counterparts in copper, excellent conductors of heat, move effortlessly from stovetop to oven to table and are exceptionally easy to clean. Besides, you can get them in different colors. Come on.

I have a few sizes of round oven, and they’re great in a small kitchen, because they often become my second sink. The 9 quart oven was filled with soaking spinach all morning waiting to become spinach strascinata. After trimming and two changes of water, the gorgeous iron-laden spinach was ready for cooking with leeks and garlic. It all made an excellent lunch over crostini drizzled with a little extra virgin olive oil. Vinegar would perk this up, too, but wine or cider vinegar, not that root beer-like concoction you bought at the supermarket, speciously labeled as “Balsamic Vinegar.” That garbage is not worth cleaning your toilet with, and I don’t know why people buy so much of it. Even cheap wine vinegar has much more flavor, and that black-tinted garbage bears no resemblance to real balsamic vinegar anyway. If you really have to know, drop the $30 it will take to get a tiny bottle and eat it on fantastic bread or with grana.

Crostini of Spinach Strascinata
Strascinata means “dragged”, literally vegetables dragged around the pan with garlic and olive oil. You can strascinare just about any vegetable, blanching if necessary, or steaming in the pan. I tend to prefer steaming, except broccoli when it’s being served with pasta. Then, I have to wash another pot anyhow, and I like the broccoli for pasta a little softer than broccoli for a side dish or main. Mainly, it’s about not having to clean another pot.

I personally don’t think there is ever a reason to blanch spinach, unless you’re making a puree out of it. In full winter, the whole stem can be removed, since it pretty much taste like crap no matter how long you boil it, but the rest of the year, just tear away the thickest part of the stem and drag that bad boy around the pan.

Serves 4 as lunch

1 small loaf semolina bread or other Italian bread (this is an excellent use for bread that is day or two old), sliced ¾” thick, on the bias if using a narrow loaf
2 pounds fresh spinach, trimmed judiciously
3-4 cloves garlic, peeled and chopped
1 medium onion, peeled and chopped (on this particular occasion, I used leek, you could use about 1 cup of any onion relative, chopped)
4 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, plus more for toasts
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 pinch freshly grated nutmeg¹

Preferably an hour ahead of cooking, wash the spinach in several changes of cold water, lifting the spinach out, leaving behind the dirt collected in the bottom of the sink or pan, until no dirt is left behind by the spinach. Drain in colander while you listen to All Things Considered. If you must cook the spinach immediately, spin dry half of it, or shake the water from it vigorously by the handful. The residual water will steam the leaves, but too much will make your dish soupy.

Heat a large dutch oven, with a lid, over medium high heat. I like how Julia Child always called dutch ovens “kettles.” I don’t think I can get away with it.
When the pan is hot, add the olive oil and heat for one minute. Add the onions and cook, stirring occasionally, for about five minutes, until softened. If the onions begin to brown, lower heat and cover the pan. They should soften and stay white. Season onion with salt and pepper.

Meanwhile, in a toaster oven, broiler or hot oven (450 degrees), toast the bread slices until crisp and lightly browned on both sides. Drizzle with extra virgin olive oil and, if desired, rub with a cut piece of garlic.

When onions are sufficiently soft, turn heat up to high, add garlic and stir. When garlic is fragrant and barely beginning to brown, add the spinach, season with salt and pepper and cover (if all the spinach won’t fit, relax- read on). After about thirty seconds, stir the spinach vigorously to prevent the onions from burning. If the spinach wouldn’t all fit, add the remaining spinach now. Cover and cook, stirring once or twice, until the spinach is wilted, but still green, about 2 minutes.

¹I feel like I give you the real deal when something is bullshit, so I hope you’ll believe me when I tell you this whole fresh nutmeg thing is for real. I keep a little bowl on the shelf with the spices, and in it are a teeny tiny little grater and nutmegs, LOW MAINTENANCE.

Listening: Chris Smither “Desolation Row”