Beets are one of my favorite vegetables. Sweet, silky, and earthy. Some may find them a nuisance to handle, but I find peeling them therapeutic. The thin skin pulls away from the flesh slowly, like how dried Elmer’s glue peels from your skin. Then a brilliant pink stains your fingers and the crevices under your nails. I like slicing beets into a bed of fresh greens, sprinkling goat cheese and drizzling vinaigrette on top.
I wanted to showcase them for dinner to my mom's friends. This crowd has known each other since high school, they emigrated from Hong Kong, each married couple settled in Toronto. They had cute babies, who grew up to be play dates (though in my case, they were more like mean boys), together they enjoyed countless dimsum lunches, followed by mahjong marathons. Two decades later, they continue to play their beloved game for hours on end, the click clack shuffle of marble tiles all too familiar to my ears.
My parents asked me to cook dinner for their friends, just as an appreciation to show how much they value their friendship. I agreed, but only because I get to dream up a menu and toy with recipes I've been meaning to try since...oh forever. Cooking relaxes me. In a smooth rhythm, beets are roasted for hours then peeled, fingers blotched a glorious magenta. Brussel sprouts are split in half to expose their intricate foldings. Tangelos are squeezed, releasing fragrant lemony juices. Dozens of pillowy sweet potato gnocchi appear, indented by the tines of a fork. As the sun leaves behind an azure sky, I don’t feel time go by.
The beets went into a salad. I turned to Epicurious, my trusty resource for all things culinary, and surfed through recipes to get a sense of how to construct my dish. I settled on baby spinach, arugula, frisée, oranges, sliced radishes and beets. To merry it all together, I made an orange dressing and baked
cheddar and chives scones for the side.
The salad was luscious. The dressing toned down the bitterness of the greens and radishes, the texture was balanced with crisp and tender ingredients. The scones were unfortunately lacking in salt and called for a more pungent cheese, otherwise, it was fluffy and brightly specked with cheddar and chives.
The main course was homemade
sweet potato gnocchi with browned butter,
roast chicken thighs and dijon mustard sauce, and brussel sprouts. My mom’s friends lapped it all up, leaving only bones and puddles of sauce on their plate.
Mouths were wiped, dishes were cleaned, forks were scrubbed and I took out the dessert. Tangelo semifreddo was something else I had bookmarked into my list of Must Make. I’ve seen this on Epicurious several times and it always intimidates me. It looks too pretty, too delicate, too pristine. But since I had plenty of time to prepare it, I gave it a shot. It was awesome. Whipped cream, egg whites, tangelo juice and sugar were folded together, allowed to freeze in a loaf pan, and finally sliced into pieces garnished with segments and syrup.
My guests purred over it. It tasted like dense marshmallows, more airy than ice cream and the tangelos didn’t make me feel like I was eating a
pound of butter. The original recipe calls for almond brittle embedded into the semifreddo, but I skipped it--I didn’t want to bother with the extra work. Even in its absence, the dessert was a hit. I brought it to a potluck a week later, and it was just as lovely. Now I can’t wait to make another kind of semifreddo, something with berries will be perfect for the summer…and that is something I’ve been looking forward to all winter.
Also, I’ve been spending time planning my trip to Europe (enter ecstatic jumping up and down here) with my buddy Milos. I’ve been dreaming of seeing skylines like
this, eating too much of
these, and taking a dip (or two)
here. I’m stoked.
Stoked I tell you.
Recipe here!
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