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Produce Guide - C
Cabbage
The cabbage has long been a staple vegetable, but despite its association with oysters and kings, only recently has this humble green become stylish. With the rising popularity of napa and Chinese cabbage, the Savoy, as well as the common red and green cabbages, are also climbing their way up the vegetable totem pole.
The common cabbage, whether red, white, or green, is available year-round, although there is a distinct difference between new and stored. New, or early, cabbages may be conical in shape, and they have tender, juicy leaves with a sweet, mild flavour that stands on its own when steamed or sautéed. Stored, or winter, cabbages are larger and round. Their thicker leaves have a more pronounced flavour and are best eaten raw in salads or slaws, pickled in sauerkraut, or slow-cooked in soups or stews. Red cabbage is particularly tasty when braised slowly with apples, wine, and spices. In any case, when buying these cabbages, choose smooth, firm heads that feel heavy for their size.
Cape Gooseberry
The cape gooseberry is a beautiful golden berry about the size of a cherry tomato. Like its sister, the Mexican tomatillo, each berry comes encased in an opaque parchment calyx or husk, looking much like a Chinese lantern. Properly called physalis, after its species, the fruit is native to South America. However, it was already so established at the Cape of Good Hope in South Africa by the early 19th century that it was exported as the Cape gooseberry. Presumably the term "gooseberry" described its size, since the two fruits are not otherwise related. It has since been introduced to many countries, including New Zealand, Australia, India, and Malaysia. But it is the Hawaiians who have really embraced this little fruit, calling it the poha berry. Pockets of Canadian growers produce a smaller strain of the Cape gooseberry, which generally goes by the name of ground cherry.
Cape gooseberries may seem expensive if you look at the price by weight. However, they are such light little creatures that a pint box of them is hardly an extravagance. They keep well for up to a week at room temperature; refrigerated, they have a tendency to go mouldy. Preparation is a snap: just pull back the husks as if you were shucking corn. Sometime the berries are a little sticky, and you can choose to rinse them or not. The skin is very thin, covering a juicy pulp, denser than a tomato, with dozens of tiny seeds. The flavour is sweet, with a little tartness, making the Cape gooseberry a natural for both sweet and savoury dishes. I like to toss a handful into the pan when I'm cooking pork or chicken, and then deglaze the pan juices with a little cider. Like tomatoes, they pair beautifully with avocados and baby mozzarella. But since so much of their charm is in the decorative lantern husk, it's nice to serve these fruits in such a way that the husk can be left on. Gently pull back the sections of the husk, and separate them into wings. Dip the berries in melted chocolate and let them set for a simple, but visually pleasing dessert or garnish.
Carambolas
Carambola is better known as star fruit, a nickname that makes sense as soon as you slice it, since the ribs or wings that run down its length create star-shaped cross-sections. While I really like this fruit in the kitchen, my fondness has more to do with the way it looks than the way it tastes. It's got to be the best-looking fruit garnish around, whether floating in a martini, decorating a cheesecake, or skewered between scallops and shrimp on the barbecue.
In terms of flavour, the carambola is a bit of a dark horse. There are several different varieties, and consumers have a tough time knowing if they're going to end up with a sweet or sour one . . . or perhaps one without much flavour at all. Even I have difficulty knowing what to expect from a shipment until I cut one open, which is what I suggest you ask your grocer to do. When sweet, the flavour is a blend of melon, lemon, and grape - perfect for a fruit salad or any cake or pastry. Sour carambolas are like a fruity lime, and are super tossed into a stir-fry or a gin and tonic.
We see carambolas all year round, arriving from Malaysia, South America, Israel, and Florida. They look very pretty when underripe, because their waxy skin is pale yellow, tinged with green. However, sweet or sour, an underripe carambola will cause your mouth to pucker. I leave them at room temperature until the tips of the ribs begin to brown, which indicates that the sugar levels are in balance. Then you simply skim off the brown tips with a vegetable peeler - very sparingly so as not to spoil the shape - and slice the fruit crossways into thick or thin slices. Unlike many fruits, carambolas do not discolour, so they will stay sitting pretty however you use them.
Carrots
The carrot was once thought of as a luxury item, extravagant and thrilling. Wild carrots were consumed in ancient Greece as an aphrodisiac, while feathery green carrot tops were worn as plumage in the 17th century, decorating the hats and hair of fashionable young women. It wasn't until the 19th century that carrots became ordinary and took their place beside onions and potatoes as European dietary staples. Although we continue to buy carrots as a matter of course, somehow they've lost the magic they once had.
Carrots can be bought across the country at any time of year. Just as local crops begin to age and grow a little woody, fresh ones arrive from Florida and California, and by the time they are finished, tender, new-crop locals arrive back on the scene. Carrots can usually be purchased loose, bagged, or bunched with their bright green tops. Packages of miniature or baby carrots are also available year-round, already cleaned and ready for use, though some of these are actually ordinary carrots machine-shaped to uniform baby size.
Cassava
Cassava is a hard vegetable to sell to the new taker. Its oddball appearance and general description don't do it any favours. Also called root manioc, it's perhaps best known as the source of the main ingredient in tapioca pudding, which some people find a little yucky (not to be confused with another of cassava's names, yucca). But cassava is a terrific vegetable to cook and eat and makes a pleasant change from the ubiquitous potato. It has a rich, buttery taste, and its dense, starchy character makes it a beautiful addition to soups and stews, thickening and absorbing juices and flavours. Like other tubers, it is great for baking and roasting, and it's a good choice for dumplings, breads, and fritters because of its high gluten content.
Relatively new to North American palates, cassava is revered in southern climes. Native to Brazil, cassava is now cultivated throughout Africa, Asia, the South Pacific, Central and South America, the Caribbean, and Florida. Main supplies for Canadian markets come from the Dominican Republic and Costa Rica, and cassava is available all year round.
Cauliflower
The cauliflower is a thing of beauty. Its snowy white florets, or curds, are packed tightly together in a heavy bouquet, surrounded by a cloak of curling green leaves. It used to be that, like the rest of us, a good-looking head of cauliflower couldn't rely on nature alone. In order to keep the florets pale and creamy, the outer leaves were gathered around the head and tied together to protect it from sunlight. (Some of us can really relate to this, no longer having much of a natural sunblock on our heads.) Nowadays there are varieties that can withstand sunlight, which means that cultivation is not so labour intensive, and cauliflower is less expensive than it once was. What a break! It has a delicious nutty-sweet flavour, and it can be eaten raw as well as steamed, stir-fried, braised, and baked.
Available year-round, cauliflower will cost less during peak local growing seasons. Choose clean, creamy heads composed of compact curds with a firm feel to them. Avoid any that are covered with grey or black patches, but, if the head is creamy-white overall with just a few grey spots, don't worry - these can be trimmed away using a sharp knife. More perishable than other members of the cabbage family, cauliflower will keep for up to five days if stored in a plastic bag in the refrigerator. But do use it as soon after buying as possible, as with age it acquires a strong, cabbagey flavour and smell that overpower its subtle taste.
Celeriac
If you're expecting celeriac to look anything like celery, you're in for a big surprise. A variety of celery that is grown for its bottom bits rather than for its branches, celeriac is a remarkably ugly vegetable. A round, bulbous creature, it looks a bit like a turnip, except that it's covered with lumps and bumps, with little rootlets squiggling out from one end and short stalks protruding from the other. Don't be turned off - it has a lovely personality. Beneath its ungainly exterior, celeriac hides mottled white flesh with a zesty yet subtle nutty flavour. It can be served raw in salads, turned into soups and purées, and braised or roasted. In fact, anything that you might do to a turnip will work equally well with celeriac.
Celeriac is slow to mature, so it doesn't arrive on the market until late fall. It does store well, so you can usually find it until early spring. Sometimes trimmed of its rootlets and stems, it can be hard to spot. Look for it where you normally find turnips and other roots, and follow your nose. Not surprisingly, it smells a lot like celery. Choose the smoothest root you can find; a small to medium-sized one that feels heavy for its size will have smoother, firmer flesh than a larger, older root, which might be spongy. If its stalk end is soft, reject it, as that's a good indication that the inside will be woody.
Celery
As a greengrocer and a food lover, I don't have the heart to promote celery as a diet food. Don't get me wrong - I love celery. But I love it because it tastes great raw or cooked, it stores well, and it's beautiful to look at. I just can't love a vegetable for what it doesn't have, which is calories. And in any case, one of my favourite ways to eat celery is sautéed with salted butter, lots of it! I also like the smell of celery, which brings back memories of my days in Nottingham, learning the vegetable trade. I used to spend hours every day trimming and washing caseloads of celery, which would arrive covered in peaty black soil from the Lincolnshire fens. My fingers would be ready to drop off after opening and preparing a hundred cases of the stuff, but the sweet smell of celery stayed around long after the dirt came out from under my nails.
Celery has been around for several hundred years, bred in Italy from a small medicinal plant whose bitterness made it useless for eating. The modern celery retains some of that sharp and savoury flavour, which is why it goes so well with creamy cheeses and sweet apples. There are two main varieties of celery. White celery is blanched by earth as it grows to prevent the stalks from turning green in sunlight. It has pale yellow leaves and a slightly milder flavour. It tends to be available only during the winter months. Green celery, the more common variety, is available year-round, with no peak season.
When choosing celery, look for straight, tightly packed stalks with fresh-looking leaves. When stored in a plastic bag in the refrigerator, celery will stay fresh for up to two weeks.
Cherimoyas
It's only right that such an unusual fruit should bear an unusual name. One of the earliest recorded fruits in the New World, the cherimoya gets its name from the Incas, and roughly translates as "cold seeds." Ironically, cherimoya growers are forever trying to breed out the seeds, which are few but large and inedible. To my mind they don't frustrate efforts to eat the fruit's creamy white flesh, which I can only describe as a delicate blend of almost every tropical fruit you can think of - banana, coconut, mango, papaya, and pineapple - combined with vanilla custard and a granular hint of pear. On the outside, the cherimoya looks a bit like a fat pine cone or an artichoke, with a pale green, shingled skin.
The cherimoya has a number of kissing cousins with which it gets confused. All are members of the Annonaceous family, but despite their similarities they are either distinct fruits or hybrids. The Australians call all of these annonaceous fruits custard apples, referring to their creamy, custard-like flesh. The pawpaw is a small, smooth-skinned North American fruit whose soft, creamy flesh tastes of pears and bananas. In the West Indies they boast of the soursop, an irregularly shaped fruit with soft spines on its skin. The soursop has juicy flesh with few or no seeds, and, as its name suggests, it is fairly acidic. The sweetsop, on the other hand, is another name for the sugar apple, which enjoys great popularity in Latin America, the West Indies, and India. Similar to the cherimoya, the sweetsop's flesh is divided into distinct segments, many of which contain a large black seed. Finally, there is the atemoya, which is a hybrid of the cherimoya and the sweetsop or sugar apple.
Cherries
Back in the old days, cherries were graded by counting how many rows would pack into the cunning little wooden boxes in which they were shipped. Nine rows of cherries indicated a "nine-row" cherry, which was a good-sized cherry, while 12 rows would result in a "12-row" (or lesser) grade. Although growers rarely pack them so charmingly these days, preferring 20-pound vacuum-packed lugs, they still grade them by their row size. There's something very pleasing about referring to an eight-row cherry, and likewise many people feel quite nostalgic when the first cherries come to market. Perhaps we like the fact that this is one of the few fruits we can't get year-round. It's true that cherries are imported from the Southern Hemisphere from late November through early January, particularly from Argentina and Chile, but the crops aren't large, and the prices are high enough to deter most people.
In the Northern Hemisphere, cherry season kicks off in California in late May. I prefer to wait a little longer, until the season moves northwards, and we start getting them from Oregon, Washington, and British Columbia. To my mind these growers really know what they're up to, consistently producing huge, dark, sweet cherries. Unfortunately, the Japanese demand is so strong that we in the east end up paying premium prices for these western fruits. However, by the middle of summer most of the provinces can look to their own small pockets of cherry growers, and Nova Scotia seems to be going through a cherry boom, with more trees being planted all the time.
Coconuts
Growing up, the only time I ever saw coconuts was at Nottingham's annual Goose Fair. We kids would line up at the coconut shy to try to win one of the exotic trophies. I must have had pretty poor aim, because I don't recall ever knocking one down, and it was to be many years before I actually tasted fresh coconut. In Canada, we still tend to view the real article as a bit of a curiosity, although we're willing enough to bake or cook with the dried or desiccated variety. However, in most tropical countries, fresh coconut is a kitchen staple. And in the South Seas, they say that the man who plants a coconut tree not only cultivates food and drink, but vessels to serve them in and fuel to cook them, as well as a home for himself and a heritage for his children. Certainly the coconut tree is the most useful tree in the world, producing everything from textiles to timber, milk to medicines.
Despite its name, the coconut is not a nut, but rather a drupe - a fruit with a hard stone. The hairy brown "nut" you see in the supermarket is the actual stone of the fruit, as the thick, green fibrous husk is removed before shipping. The inside of the nut is coated with a half-inch (1-cm) layer of crunchy white meat, kept moist by a refreshing, faintly sweet milky liquid. This is called coconut juice or water; coconut milk is made by straining boiling water through grated coconut. The juice makes a tasty dressing for a fruit salad (balance its sweetness with a squeeze of lime juice), or a great addition to a smoothie or umbrella drink. Occasionally the juice will have an off-taste or be rather sour. Just chuck it; it shouldn't affect the flavour of the meat.
Collard Greens
Collard greens, which belong to the cabbage family, are the closest thing we've got to English "spring greens," with large, flat, deep green leaves and long, thick stalks. Their flavour is somewhere between cabbage and kale, earthy, sweet, and definitely peppery. They come to us from south of the equator. Originally cultivated in India, Africa, and South America, they were brought to the southern United States by African slaves and are integral to the cuisine known as "soul food." Think hominy grits, black-eyed peas, and cornbread, and you'll have the idea. Even so, collards are hardy, able to endure both hot and cold weather. They're available year-round, with supplies peaking in late winter and ebbing during spring.
When buying collards, look for fresh, springy leaves, deep green in colour. Avoid any with blemishes or those that have yellowed. As the stems are too tough to eat, choose collards with lots of relatively small leaves. You can wash them before storing them if they're dried thoroughly. Otherwise, refrigerate them in a plastic bag for up to 5 days. As they tend to have a lot of grit trapped in the leaves, rinse them well in a sink full of cool water, swishing them around to allow sand and dirt to settle to the bottom. Spin or pat dry, and cut out the stems. The generous size of the leaves allows you to stack them before chopping or shredding them, so preparation is fairly quick.
Corn
Fresh corn on the cob, dripping in butter, is one of summer's finest pleasures, and corn is probably the New World's single most important contribution to European diets. A cornfield truly is a field of dreams. In terms of acreage planted, corn is second only to wheat. Most of this corn reaches us indirectly, as it is primarily cultivated as a grain rather than a vegetable. It feeds the creatures who in turn provide us with meat and dairy products, as well as supplying the base material for everything from bourbon to acetone, cooking oil to varnish, syrup to shoe polish.
The corn grown as a vegetable is called sweet corn, and more often than not it arrives at the market still wrapped in its tight green husk. Few of us can resist its tender, juicy sweetness. Although it is available year-round, fresh corn is at its best and cheapest during local growing seasons, which begin around June and peak in late summer.
In the past, kitchen lore demanded that you put the water on to boil before going out to pick the corn, as its natural sugars begin converting to starch as soon as the ears are plucked from their stalks. If you're cooking corn from the garden, this is still good advice. However, thanks to recent hybridization and innovations in harvesting technology, most of the corn we buy today will stay fresh and sweet for a matter of days rather than hours, provided you keep it in the refrigerator.
Cranberries
North Americans produce and consume over 90 per cent of the world's cranberries. However, recent studies indicating the cranberry's extraordinary health benefits have granted the humble little berry star status around the world, especially in Europe. While similar berries grow wild in Northern Europe, the large, scarlet berries that graced the Pilgrims' first Thanksgiving dinner are native to North America. In Canada, cranberries are cultivated in British Columbia and Ontario, but the Maritimes are the real heart of cranberry country.
There is a common misconception that cranberries are grown under water. The vines are actually raised in sandy, peaty soil on marsh or bog land. However, during the harvest, the cranberry beds are flooded with water, which is why one sees photographs of speedboats racing around the fields. Berries grown for processing (juice and sauce) are harvested by machines harvesters that churn up the water, knocking the fruit from the vines and causing it to float. Gentler methods are used in fields designated for fresh produce, but in both cases the floating berries are "corralled" by cranberry cowboys - with rakes and outboard motors rather than lassoes and horses.
The first of our fresh cranberries appear in October, in time for Thanks-giving. Because of their high levels of benzoic acid - a natural preservative - they keep well in cold storage until December, when the second big consumer demand occurs. After Christmas, most supermarkets and green-grocers simply freeze the remainder of their stock to sell the rest of the year. You can do the same at home, as they do freeze beautifully. Like other berries, they're sometimes a bit waterlogged once thawed, but because cranberries are almost always used for cooking, this really isn't a drawback.
Cucumber
There is no other vegetable as cool as a cucumber. Literally. The inside of this squash-like fruit can be up to 20°F (8°C) cooler than its surface temperature, and its capacity to retain water makes the cucumber one of the most refreshing vegetables around, certainly my pick to carry on a trek through the desert. A plant native to the subcontinent, either India or Africa, the cucumber has been cultivated for at least 4000 years and was brought to Europe via the Middle East some thousand years ago. It suffered a bit of a bad patch in England, where, until the 18th century, it was considered a digestive hazard. It is true that garden cucumbers can be a bit "windy," but the English or "greenhouse" variety is supposedly burpless.
Until I arrived in North America in 1979, I didn't know that there was any type of cucumber other than the English variety, and I was a bit confused when I came across the more hefty garden cukes with skins like leather! However, these garden varieties are available year-round, with supplies peaking in summer with local crops. They range greatly in size, the best choice being small to medium ones with firm flesh and smooth, deep green skins. Very large ones will have tough skins and a preponderance of seeds, and you should also avoid those with a pale green or yellowish colour, which indicates over-maturity. English or greenhouse cucumbers are also available year-round, although during the winter months they can be expensive, as they are imported from Holland and Spain. They are long and slender, with thin green skins and fewer seeds. They are the cucumber of choice for most people (including myself) since they are sweeter and more tender than the garden variety. They should be well-shaped and feel very firm when pressed. Gherkins are tiny cucumbers used mostly for pickling, but they also make great salads.
Currants
Every summer I'd be sent into the back garden to pick currants so that my mum could make jelly and jam, and despite their tartness I'd return with only half a basket and a face streaked with guilty purple stains. Black currant jam is still my all-time favourite, and I also carry Ribena at the Frootique, a black currant cordial much sought after by my English customers. The French, of course, are famed for their black currant cordial, crème de cassis, which is a popular aperitif, especially mixed with champagne. But although currants - black, red, and white - are popular throughout North Western Europe with chefs and still-life painters alike, they are fairly rare as a commercial crop in Canada. Most people here who know them grow their own, and guard them jealously for once-a-year use in jams, jellies, sauces, and tarts.
Out of season they are imported from South and Central America, or even California, but they come in little half-pint shells and cost a small fortune. Considering how much you need to make jam or jelly, these are out of reach for most of us. One can occasionally find currants at roadside stands in early to mid-summer, but your best bet is to plant your own . . . or to cultivate a friendship with someone who does.
Black currants are almost always too tart to eat raw, but this makes them ideal for cooking in pies, sauces, and jams (they set beautifully). Red currant jelly is even better than mint sauce with lamb, and is a must for making Cumberland sauce for cold meats and poultry. White currants are less common, but they are naturally sweeter than either the black or red varieties, and can be added raw to salads and fresh fruit desserts. If you are lucky enough to come across any colour of currant, they'll keep well when covered in the refrigerator for up to 10 days, and they can be frozen. To remove currants from their stems, simply run a fork down the length of them. You can give them a quick rinse if they seem dusty, but like most berries, the less water they see, the better.
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