Prosperity in a Pot

“People are so worried about what they eat between Christmas and the New Year, but they really should be worried about what they eat between the New Year and Christmas.”--unknown

Fresh food instead of fast, an attainable endeavor that reaps tremendous rewards. Kick off with prosperity-producing provisions, a gorgeous stew of fresh greens which symbolize green paper currency and black-eyed peas which resemble a handful of shiny coins.  It might not make us rich or thin, but it’s easy, aromatic, delicious, and fresh. 

The moment I started planning the New Years Day feast with black-eyed peas on the menu, the crew in my kitchen broke out into song, belting out the hits from The Black Eyed Peas and reminiscing about their performance at The Greenbrier a few summers back. It’s a full blown dance party in the kitchen, cue “Tonight’s Gonna Be a Good Night.”  After a bit of chopping and a long simmer, we have steamy bowls of satisfying soup.  And a perfect start to another great year.

Cue the playlist, gather your group and start chopping.

I hope you’ll enjoy the cooking routine.  When the next holiday season rolls around, you can enjoy and indulge without worry.

Prosperity in a Pot

Loosely adapted from a classic Persian recipe Aash, as shared by my friend Cosima Amelang.  Chop the greens once you get the black-eyed peas simmering

• 1/4 cup olive oil, plus additional for serving
• 1 medium onion, chopped
• 1 teaspoon ground turmeric
• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1 tablespoon chopped fresh ginger
• 3 cups dried black-eyed peas, rinsed
• water
• 1 large bunch Swiss chard, leaves chopped and stems reserved for another use
• 1/2 pound fresh spinach, chopped
• 1 large leek, chopped*
• 1 bunch green onions, chopped
• 1 bunch fresh parsley, leaves chopped
• salt and pepper
• 1 teaspoon hot sauce (Sriracha is nice here)
• 2 tablespoons honey
• 1 tablespoon lemon juice
• *for best results with leeks: trim the ends, remove the top greens and reserve for other use.  Cut the leeks in half lengthwise, slice thinly crosswise and rinse well in water.  Lift them out into a strainer to drain.

Heat the 1/4 cup olive oil in a large stockpot over medium heat. Saute the onion until translucent. Add the turmeric, cinnamon, and cumin and saute 1 minute. Add the chopped ginger and cook another minute. Add the black-eyed peas and enough water to cover (about 2 quarts). Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer, partially covered, for 30 minutes. Add the chopped chard, spinach, leek, green onions, and parsley.  Stir well to combine and add additional water if needed just to cover the greens.

Cook over low heat for one hour, until black-eyed peas are just tender. Season with hot sauce, honey and lemon juice, and salt and pepper to taste. Continue cooking for 15 minutes to infuse with the seasonings.

Serve, topping each portion with a swirl of olive oil.

Happy Cooking!

Makes 8 servings

Blackened Mahi Mahi

Growing up in Florida with the warm Atlantic ocean in my backyard was the best possible environment for a kid, except when it came to dinner.  I flat refused to savor its bounty when it was served on my plate.  This delicacy, fresh from the salty sea, was a near-daily offering and I would have no part of it.  Eighteen years of no.

Then I went to college, an hour and some change from my beloved playground.  I craved the salt, missed having sand between my toes.  I longed for my mom’s home cooking and forgot all about her spectacular fish dishes.  I craved home.

When my older sister moved to the Virgin Islands, I couldn’t wait to visit her.  Independent college student, going to the Caribbean!  I invited my surfer boyfriend/now husband, and off we went to ‘America’s Paradise’ for a Spring Break getaway. Every day adventure and a return to home cooking.  It was such a treat to eat ‘real food’ for a change.  

One night my sister and her husband offered to treat us to dinner out to their favorite little restaurant, The Fishnet.” On our way there, I wondered if I would let my guard down and give fresh fish another try.  It had been a few years since my mom had tried to force feed me.  Maybe this was the time?

We entered the quaint fresh air eatery with a fishnet draped above, serving as a roof.  We were seated at a four-top overlooking the sparkling sea.  Paradise. The waiter in his island t-shirt and tattered ankle-length jeans served us tropical drinks as I ogled the plates passing by.  “That looks delicious!  I’m having THAT!” I decided.  It was the house specialty, the day’s freshest catch, completely encrusted in a sheath of spices. “Do you even like fish?” my sister asked.

At that moment, I completely got swept up in the ‘when in Rome’ phenomenon and placed my order.  “I’d like the fresh catch, blackened,” I said, feeling incredibly grown up.  No one was there cajoling me, mom wasn’t there forcing me.  This was my decision and it felt really good.

Still smoking hot from its cast iron skillet, this gorgeous, crispy black filet was elegantly delivered before me.  Cracking my fork through the aromatic crust, I took the first bite.  Tender, flaky, crunchy, spicy.  Delicious.  From that moment, I realized that I had been missing out my whole life. I mentally apologized to my mom, one of the best cooks on earth, for all those years of rejection.

Returning home for a summer visit, I asked mom what she was planning for dinner.  “I have some fish,” she said apologetically.  My eyes lit up.  “Where’s your iron skillet?”

Looking ahead to an upcoming trip home to the coast, I offer you a taste of fresh fish that is sure to convert you! How sad that when I fell in love with fresh fish, I also moved far away from the coast.  Lucky for us in Charleston, we can head to Joe’s Fish Market for really great fish and service to match.

You can find brothers Joe and Robin Harmon behind the counter at Joe's Fish Market year-round. Robin took a quick break to wave my "30 Days of Kitchen Fun" calendar and I hear he's quite a fisherman when his work schedule allows.

Blackened Mahi Mahi

Most firm-fleshed fish work well in this preparation.  At Joe’s, the mahi mahi came highly recommended.  It cooked up perfectly!  Though commercial ‘blackening’ spice blends are available, they often contain a lot of salt.  I prefer to blend my own.

• 2 1/2 tablespoons paprika
• 1 teaspoon dried thyme 
• 3/4 teaspoon coarse salt
• 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 4 four to six ounce skinless firm fleshed fish filets (halibut, salmon, mahi mahi work well)

Heat the oven to 375. Mix the paprika, thyme, salt, cayenne, and garlic powder together in a small bowl. Transfer the mixture to a large plate or pie pan. Brush the fish on both sides with the olive oil. Carefully dip the filets into the seasoning mixture, turning to coat each side. 

(If using smaller filets, you may have some spice mixture remaining--stir it into the liquid for cooking rice or quinoa, or discard if not using right away)

Heat a large cast iron skillet(12-inch) over medium-high heat. When the skillet just starts to smoke, add the filets and cook for 2 minutes.  Carefully turn the filets over and transfer the skillet to the oven and finish cooking for about 5-7 minutes--the fish will feel just-firm when pressed at the center.  (Cooking time will vary depending on oven and thickness of fish).

Serve with Fruit Salsa (recipe follows)

Fruit Salsa

If I was in our Florida backyard, I’d grab some mangoes for this salsa. In West Virginia summers, I pick fresh peaches. Pineapple works in the off-season.

• 2 cups chopped fresh fruit
• 2 teaspoons lemon juice
• 1 small Roma tomato, chopped
• 1/4 red bell pepper, finely chopped
• 2 green onions, chopped
• 1/2 jalapeno pepper, seeded and finely chopped (or to taste)
• 1 tablespoon fresh chopped cilantro

Toss the fruit with the lemon juice in a medium bowl. Add the chopped tomato, bell pepper, green onions, jalapeno pepper, and cilantro. Stir gently to combine. Serve with the fish.

Sunshine in a Glass

Fresh squeezed OJ is nature's gift to get us through the dark days of Winter. It will fix what ails you, just sweet enough and rich with pulp, it's like drinking sunshine. Growing up on the East Coast of Central Florida, sandwiched between the warm Atlantic Ocean and miles upon miles of citrus groves, fresh squeezed OJ was a weekly ritual at our house. On Sundays, we would stop at a roadside stand to buy our supply of fresh citrus. I still remember the simple sign "Juicing Oranges" and a farmer in his Sunday overalls and fedora would load a bulging brown grocery sack into the back of our station wagon. At home, we cut them in half and took turns squeezing a bushel of golden fruit. The pulp and tiny seeds escaped from the juicer into the pitcher and into each awaiting glass. I just picked up a sack of Florida oranges in my West Virginia grocery store. I am ready for Winter.