Vegetarian

I was a green goddess once, sort of. It was in high school, where I had a very brief solo in the school play. I cannot for the life of me remember what that play was, but my part involved me singing a little song while wearing a sea green toga and gold slippers in the latest goddess fashion.

Daniel and I spent our honeymoon in Istanbul, a magical city with heavenly food. One of the most distinct and memorable dishes was one we sampled at the house of a friend of a friend. Engin Akin, an expert on Ottoman palace cuisine and a crackerjack cook, invited us over for a historic meal inspired by what the sultans ate during Ottoman times.

One of the most gratifying things for a home cook is to scrimmage a meal together out of leftovers. It’s enormously satisfying to ransack the fridge and use up what lies under plastic wrap or is lounging about in the vegetable drawer; it always provides a relaxed, unforced creativity. I certainly would never have thought of using horseradish as a dressing for a tomato salad if I hadn’t wanted to find a way to use up a horseradish root staring beseechingly at me every time I opened the fridge.

Growing up, I was always served collards prepared the same way: some kind of pork and stock, with maybe a tomato, some onions, and always cooked until they were dark olive-green. I love collards and, like all other greens, want them to be a bright color and have some texture. This quick, simple recipe highlights that strong collard funkiness and tastes deceptively rich for a vegetarian dish.

We strongly recommend that you bake the beetroot [Ed. note, beets in North America] for this recipe according to the instructions below – baked beetroot have a stronger flavour, deeper colour and a denser, crunchier texture. Having said that, you could use boiled and it will still taste really nice. We use regular purple beetroot, but do try multicoloured ones if you wish. And if you don’t have time to make the labneh, you could use a smear of oat crème fraîche.

It’s an unlikely scenario—early season vegetables cooked at a low simmer to amplify their fresh flavors—but it works.

This vegetarian play on tuna salad relies on white beans as the base. The beans become so creamy when smashed that only a touch of mayonnaise is needed to bring it together, and celery seed and tangy lemon juice intensify the flavor. It’s ultra versatile: slather it on thick bread slices as a sandwich, mound it on top of salad greens, or spread it on a croissant for an impressive brunch. In the summer, we add chopped basil, chives, or tarragon for an herby kick. It’s unassumingly tasty, and we make it for quick lunches or dinner in a pinch.

When it comes to beet salads, it’s hard to escape the ubiquitous combination of beets and goat cheese. The pairing works because the tangy, creamy, salty goat cheese is a great foil for the beets’ earthy sweetness. (Interestingly, beets’ sweetness is actually the result of a winter survival strategy. The sugars in beets act like antifreeze, keeping the fluid in their cells from freezing and forming destructive ice crystals.) But that doesn’t mean the combination hasn’t gotten a little tired. To reinvigorate the classic beet salad, we looked for ways to deal with the sweetness itself. By charring the cooked beets—essentially burning some of the sugar—we cut down on sweetness and add some complementary bitterness. We amplify that bitterness with crisp radicchio and toss it all with a dressing made from the beet cooking liquid. And to replace the goat cheese? A simple spread of feta and Greek yogurt adds plenty of creaminess. A final flourish of tart pomegranate seeds provides pops of bright acidity (while staying on message with the ruby color scheme), while fresh dill and tarragon round things out with some herbal notes.

The more limited produce offerings of colder months encourage me to get creative with salads. In place of fresh greens, I’ll often use a base of radicchio, chicory, endive, or even thinly shaved root vegetables. I brighten up dressings with citrus zest, parsley, or flavored oils and vinegars, which offer a nice contrast to the earthiness of winter vegetables. Walnut and hazelnut oil are my favorites: they’re pricey but intensely flavorful, so a small amount goes a long way.