By Nadia Arumugam |

What Became of Our Indoor Carrots

You might recall reading about how I had planted carrots in a planter and intended to grow and nurture them indoors on my window sill. You might also recall thinking that that plan sounded somewhat far-fetched. After all, carrots grow deep inside the ground, and normally emerge from a carrot patch with about another 100 carrots, not from inside a West Village apartment in a 10-inch diameter pot. Well, cast aside your doubts.

As you can see from the photo above, I did indeed manage to coax a small handful of perfectly formed, but rather tiny (between 1 1/2 to 3 inch) carrots out of my jolly green planter. These were hand harvested (as if there could be any other way, but doesn’t it sound romantic!) 86 days after seeds first met soil.

Why so small, you ask? Don’t worry, I won’t be offended. That was in fact my first question, once my swell of motherly pride faded.  After all, the packet promised 6-8 inches Nantes carrots. And to whom did I pose this question to? Well, our in-house, green-thumbed genius, of course, Charity. Turns out, one of two things might have happened.

1. The pot was too small and I didn’t thin out the carrots enough once the little green shoots poked their heads out of the soil which meant that the vegetables didn’t have adequate space to develop.

2. I should have added fertilizer to give the little guys a helping hand.

I was initially quite reluctant to thin out the shoots too much – it felt like infanticide! But when we returned from our summer holiday and the carrot babies look worse for wear not having had a drink for a number of days, I was quite brutal. I thinned ruthlessly, leaving a good 1 1/2 inches at least between each shoot, which was what the instructions on the packet of seeds advised. Still, I will be sure to use a larger planter next time, just to give the carrots more space to breathe and to stretch out their little carroty limbs sub-soil. As for the fertilizer – yes, my bad. I used an organic seed started potting mix which, according to the bag, promotes root growth and increases water and nutrient uptake, but I didn’t think to add any additional fertilizer. Again, this is something I won’t be forgetting next time.

All in all, this was a good, nay, a great first try at growing something, I think. I have to say, I was secretly worried that I was going to pull at the carrot tops, and ta da…that was going to be it. Nothing, nada, niente was going to come out, save perhaps a puff of dust. So the very fact that there were carrots there at all was a boon. And, they were tasty too – sweet with great crunch. Admittedly, they weren’t out-of-this-world delicious, but, hey, you have to have something to aspire to.

As for what’s next, I’m thinking of going down the eggplant route. What variety? As if you had to ask… Nadia, of course.

By Charity Shumway |

As Nightshade As They Come: Purple Eggplants

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In the fairy tales my grandmother used to read to me, peasants were always stealing into walled gardens by night, scrambling up vines or slipping through hidden doors, pocketing one or two precious fruits in the moonlight before trying to sneak away. Because the gardens were always owned by witches, inevitably, they were caught. Inevitably, they were punished. Curses cast, firstborns traded for freedom.

To my mind, the plants most likely to evoke such risky yearning and jealous guarding are Nightshades. To call these plants “the potato family” is to rob them of their magic. Give them their due: Nightshades or, even better, Solonaceae. In addition to your tomatoes and potatoes, you have Belladonna (deadly nightshade), Madragora (mandrake), and Nicotiana (tobacco) — names that surely evoke spells and powers. And then of course there is the Solanum melongena. Aubergine. Eggplant.

If white eggplants beckon with a ghostly glow, inky purple eggplants are more like black jewels. Deep, dark, alluring. Grow them, and you may find yourself guarding them as greedily as any sorcerer.

Varieties for your consideration…

Black Beauty, Hansel, and Nadia

  • Black Beauty: Gorgeous black orbs, open-pollinated, so you can collect the seeds and grow them again next year, and highly productive (up to a dozen fruits per plant).
  • Hansel: Harvest this slim variety when it’s young (now you’re the wicked witch). Where you’ll have to wait about 80 days for Black Beauty to be ripe, Hansel (and it’s sister variety, the white Gretel) are perfect at around 55 days and 2 to 3 inches.
  • Nadia: How could you resist, on name alone! These large glossy eggplants have the added benefit of being able to fruit under slightly cooler conditions than your average hybrid.

Fairy Tale and Orient Express

  • Fairy Tale: These may not hold quite the black magic of their deep purple brethren, but they’re beguiling nonetheless. Not to mention that they produce a profusion of gorgeous lavender flowers in addition to their purple fruit.
  • Orient Express: Long and lovely  and with the air of a mystery only Hercule Poirot can solve, these eggplants ripen early and fruit well in both heat and relative cool.
By Nadia Arumugam |

Book Review: Looking for Veggie Ideas for Thanksgiving? Pick Up a Copy of “Plenty”

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If you haven’t heard of Yotam Ottolenghi, I implore you to Google him straightaway. Actually, erm….just stay right here, and I’ll fill you in. A former journalist in his native Isreal, Ottolenghi made his way to England in the late 80’s to study at the famed Cordon Bleu culinary school. With some years of experience under his belt as a pastry chef  in several notable London establishments, he started Ottolenghi – a restaurant that served Mediterranean and Middle Eastern-inspired light, casual food with a focus on innovative vegetarian dishes, and to-die-for pastries, in the early noughties. Not long after, Ottolenghi became a chain offering in-store fare, take-away dishes and at home catering, with a kind of glamorous, luxe deli atmosphere. There are now four of these wonderful eateries dotted around London’s most exclusive enclaves.

Ottolenghi’s a chef to be taken seriously. Why? Because he takes food extremely seriously. If you don’t believe me, just check out his website, later. But you should believe me because I was lucky enough to have had him as a guest instructor while at culinary school in London. With a seriously cool demeanor, without any of the abrasiveness and arrogance that plague so many successful chefs, he navigated his way seamlessly around every ingredient he touched, and, without wanting to seem trite, I recall being particularly impressed with the respect with which he approached every dish. It doesn’t surprise me then, to read this on his website:

“..we are also perfectionists; testing and re-testing each dish until we get it just right; creating and maintaining beautiful and serene dining environments. We are highly aware of how unusual it is, in our time, to find food that is closer to the source, uncomplicated, unadulterated, emanating from genuine instincts….And we are desperate to share our fixation with anyone who feels similarly. So in order to drag you into our world, we make a conscientious effort to renew and re-craft, to astound in looks and flavours, to open-handedly present our creations in a seductive manner, to serve it impeccably and with integrity.”

Ottolenghi published his most recent cookbook, Plenty, in the UK last year but it was just recently released a few months ago by Chronicle in the US. The long-awaited tome comprises of original recipes from his New Vegetarian column for the weekend magazine of the UK newspaper The Guardian. Yes, they are all vegetarian recipes, and yes, there are all mesmerizing. I admit, I’m a carnivore through and through. I’ll slip in meat wherever I can, whenever I can, but this book really has me salivating. I think it’s mostly because Ottolenghi isn’t shy about focusing squarely on vegetables; his flavors are bold and his ingredients robust and unabashedly in-your face. Tons of garlic, smoky tahini, mouth-puckering pomegranate molasses, refreshing citrus and fiery chilies feature prominently. For that touch of indulgence, Ottolenghi reaches often for dairy – unctuous cheese, creme fraiche and yogurt add silky richness.  (more…)

By Nadia Arumugam |

3 Easy Midweek Eggplant Dinners

The biggest advantage of making up , I mean, developing recipes for a living, especially when those recipes are geared towards people just like you – with full lives, small kitchens and healthy, adventurous appetites, is that you end up with a bank of reliable standbys that you can resort to in the middle of a busy week. When I was going through my archive of recipes, I found an inordinate number of eggplant dishes. It’s not that I have favorites amongst my vegetables, at least I try not to, but eggplant does such a great job at lending itself to a variety of simple, speedy and tasty preparations. Just take look at how different all the dishes in the  photos above look. If that was broccoli, you’d likely just see a lot of florets. But with eggplant you can slice and dice it, you can stuff it, and you can also blitz it to a smooth, creamy pulp. And eggplant stores well in the fridge for 6 to 8 days, or sometimes even longer, if it’s really fresh when you buy it (of course you can guarantee freshness by growing it yourself!), so you can pick up a bunch on Sunday and cook it throughout the week. I’ve also never salted an eggplant in my life, and I’ve never come upon a eggplant dish that suffered for the lack of salting. Modern eggplants have mostly had all of the bitterness bred out of them, so unless you find an heirloom variety, I pretty much guarantee that’ll you be fine if you forego your mother/ grandmother’s cardinal eggplant salting rule!

For an additional bonus, with eggplant’s meaty texture you can get away with going all-veggie every now and then and no-one (read: boyfriend, husband, burly flat mate etc.) will be none the wiser. Ok, I lie, they will surely notice, but they’ll be adequately sated that they probably won’t mind. Probably.

The recipes after the jump; Eggplant, Mozzarella & Tomato Stacks, Stuffed Eggplant with Lamb and Stir-Fried Five Spice Duck (or chicken) with Plums and Eggplant are adaptions from dishes in my cookbook, Chop, Sizzle & Stir and from creations during my stint as the food editor for a British food magazine. I love to re-visit them when I’m all out of fresh ideas or when I don’t want to tax my brain too much and want something trust-worthy and simple (believe me, Google is not your friend when it comes to finding reliable recipes!).

Enjoy – and let me know what you think! (more…)