Although tomatillos are only a distant relation of the tomato -- they're actually in the same genus as cape gooseberries and husk cherries -- it's true that the similarities between the two can't be missed. Their affinity for salsa, for example, or the complex flavors they take on after roasting. After all, they're both members of the nightshade family. But the similarities end there.
They're beautiful, they're rich with history, and...they're slimy. For many, memories of okra begin and end with their signature mucilage, caused by the sugars and proteins inside the plant that are activated by heat. (Don't worry: we'll be discussing the best ways to avoid okra's goo. Unless it's gooeyness you're after, of course.)
The nightshades we know best are tomatoes and potatoes, but eggplant has its own rightful spot on the list. Bulbous with waxy, shiny skin, eggplant can be a little daunting -- and that's not mentioning the spikes that can grow on its top stem! Beneath that tough exterior, though, lies creamy white flesh waiting for you to blitz into dip or simmer into sauce. Today we tackle eggplants -- also called aubergines, also called delicious.
Like tomatoes, corn takes on sacred status in the summer -- we herald its arrival and gobble it up cooked into polenta, salads, soups, and even just on the cob. And like tomatoes, corn isn't exactly what it seems to be. It's a grain, not a vegetable! The corn we know and love is actually harvested far ahead of its starchy, dry mature stage -- think of the dried-out stuff you see at the hardware store or in birdseed that is so different from the fresh, milky, just-picked ears that we crave. Harvested after the kernels have been pollinated but before they reach physiological maturity, corn is late summer's sweetest treat.
Tomatoes are the beauty queens of summer: beautiful, a bit high-maintenance, and occasionally prone to bursting. And they're not afraid to break your heart: tomatoes just aren't worth eating in any season but the summer. As red as a hothouse tomato looks, it can't compare to the juicy, intense flavor of a sun-ripened sungold at farmers' market.
We asked for your haiku, we read veggie burger-themed haiku, and the FOOD52 staff even threw their hats in the ring. Now it's time to declare a winner. The only problem? You're all amazing! We couldn't pick just one -- and there's no prize, anyway -- so we thought we'd highlight all our favorites. You all blew us away with your eloquent words -- add "poet" to the list along with "home cook"!
You'll be hearing from the staff at FOOD52 every week in Too Many Cooks, our group column in which we pool our answers to questions about food, cooking, life, and more. While we prepare our favorites from your haiku this week, we thought we'd share our own -- the FOOD52 staff (and Amanda's husband Tad, who wanted in on the fun) put on our thinking caps this week to bring you our best 17-syllable poems. The results were surprising -- we have more than one closet poet among us!
We've been amazed and impressed at your poems in this week's Food Haiku Contest -- you're all closet poets! Unrelatedly, several of you have already tried Gena Hamshaw's Zucchini-Quinoa Veggie Burgers and loved them.
The Olympics may be over (and the Summer Food Fights, too) but that somehow our competitive urges still haven't ebbed away. That's why we're announcing the Feed52 Haiku Contest.
Summer squash -- from zucchini to pattypans -- get a bad rap. They grow like crazy (what home gardener hasn't discovered a baseball bat-sized squash hiding in their garden in late August?) and produce squash for as long as the weather holds, which means the harvest keeps on coming. Jokes about ditching baskets of zucchini on your hapless neighbors' doorsteps aside, there's a lot to love about the much-maligned cucurbit.
Did you know that melons are in the same family -- Cucurbitaceae -- as cucumbers, winter squash, and zucchini? Their leaves, flowers, and stems are all similar, though of course the end product is very different. (And no, you can't cross-pollinate a pattypan squash with a honeydew!) Today we're talking all about melons, to give you plenty to think about next time you lug one home from the farmers' market.
This week we're celebrating stone fruit -- any fruit with a fleshy exterior surrounding a shell that harbors a fruit seed. Does that sound complicated? Just think of peaches, apricots, plums, and nectarines: delicious flesh on the outside, hard pit on the inside, tiny seed inside of that. (Cherries, which we got down and dirty with last week, are also technically stone fruit!)
Cherries, whether sweet or sour, are as cute as they are versatile. They play well with booze (Merrill likes to soak them in liqueur), they skew savory when paired with duck breast, and for hot summer days, nothing is better than a cherry snow cone. Today we're discussing cherries, stem to pit -- everyone's favorite tiny stone fruit.
Garlic is a funny -- and extremely versatile -- plant: it's planted in the late fall, after most other plants are done for the season, and sleeps all winter long before sprouting come springtime. The bulbs aren't ready to harvest until summer -- and even then they need a weeks-long curing period to dry them out for long-term storage. Fortunately, there are other ways to get your garlic fix in spring and early summer. Young garlic is one -- the bulbs are soft, mild, and not yet hardened into cloves -- and garlic scapes are another.
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