Jambalaya; Or, The Inauthenticity Continues ($3 or so, when the okra's out of season, cheaper when it's in; about an hour, including the chopping)

It is not okra season. I confess. I bought okra from Honduras. Bad locavore. BAD.

It was just that I had a sort of craving, or maybe it was that someone else had mentioned okra to me, or maybe it was a longing for high, hot summer, the time when okra is in season. I used to grow okra (it was vegetable of the month at the CDC!) when I lived in Athens, more okra than I knew how to eat.

It's not a lovely plant actually, though its flower is really beautiful, a creamy white with a dark burgundy center and bright yellow stamens. And fresh okra, the kind you cut off the plant, carry inside, wash, cut up, sprinkle with corn meal and pan fry -- say twenty minutes max from plant to teeth -- there is nothing like this.

So homesick was I in Wisconsin that I tried to grow okra there, in the richest soil I think any okra plant has ever seen. It never worked. Okra in Georgia gets chest high, neck high -- in Wisconsin it never came to my knees. I had one blossom, and that was frail and short-lived. I missed okra. It was metonymy for the sun, and warmth, and the green, buzzing, bird-filled outdoors that the wasteland of winter in Wisconsin -- all winter, as far as I'm concerned -- denies the world.

So, yesterday, okra. And with okra: vegetarian jambalaya. Sort of. In a way. If this is jambalaya, it's the okra, the roux and the allspice that make it so. And the hot sauce, I suppose.

Here's how to make it. And thanks to Lucy Curzon for the recipe.

What you need:

1/4 cup salad oil

1/3 c white flour

a little olive oil

1 sm onion, chopped small

2 cloves of garlic, crushed

2 bay leaves

3 med carrots, peeled and chopped

3-5 peppers, all colors, chopped to make about 2-3 cups

2 tsp basil

1/2 tsp thyme

1 can diced tomatoes, undrained

2 c okra (about 1/2 a pound), sliced

3 c vegetable stock

1/4 tsp allspice

hot sauce of your choice

Chop everything up and set aside. This makes up fast, so you want simply to be dumping as you go. Make some rice (go there; do this), since that's what you'll be serving this over.

In a small heavy skillet, mix the flour and salad oil. Put this on medium heat and stir frequently. This is your roux, which will complicate the taste of the jambalaya (Hank. Sigh.) and thickens it, too.

In a large stockpot, heat the oil over medium high heat and saute the onions, garlic, bay and up to about a TBSP of either red pepper flakes or jalapeno paste. When the onions have softened and become transparent (this should take a minute or two), add the carrots, peppers, basil, and thyme. Stirring every once and a while so the vegetables don't burn, cook for 5 minutes.

Add tomatoes, okra, stock, and allspice. Stir to combine.

Cover and cook for twenty minutes.

Meanwhile, turn the heat up on the roux and stir constantly. It should begin to turn very dark brown, sort of burned-looking. Keep it moving in the pan. You want it about the color of nicely tanned leather and to smell almost nutty. When you've achieved this, turn the heat off and go do something until the vegetables are cooked.

After twenty minutes, check that the carrots are soft enough (run a fork into the largest piece you can find). If they are, scrape the roux into the vegetables, stirring the vegetables constantly so they don't cook the flour into dumplings. If this happens, it's not a big deal: you just have something less jambalaya than -- I don't know -- quasi-Caribbean vegetable and dumpling stew. Still edible. Still actually pretty tasty (yes, I've done this; that's how I know).

Drape this over some rice, in bowls. Dump on the hot sauce of your choice (classic is Tabasco, but we're real fond of Cholula ourselves). Eat.

There you go.

Soup with Strange Ingredients like Peanut Butter (maybe $3 for a potful; about 45 minutes)

I forgot to ask Santa for an immersion blender (immersion blender discussion, no less). It was an incredible oversight on my part. I have hopes, though, that with my birthday coming up, he'll make a little flight to Georgia next month and correct things.

But seriously folks. Why do any of us have to write letters? Isn't it sort of pathetic, and -- I don't know -- a little condescending? I mean, shouldn't we expect the jolly old ELF (not quite what Santa has in mind), a supernatural being who can fly and deliver presents all over the world in a single freaking night, to be a little, well, psychic?

Why couldn't he have looked into my mind, or more importantly my cupboard, and noted that I didn't have one and might find one useful?

I don't know. Might be I was on his naughty list. It's possible. Actually, it's likely, even.

In the meantime, I'm making do, and though an immersion blender would be handy for this recipe, if you don't have one, a regular blender or a food processor does fine if you're careful with hot soup.

Specifically, hot sweet potato peanut soup, loosely -- okay, INCREDIBLY loosely -- based on some soup I had years ago at a friend's house. His was loosely African, I think. But as he was a Jesuit priest cum English professor from Wisconsin -- well, it's probably mostly Midwestern.

What you'll need:

A stock pot or large sauce pot

a blender or food processor

oil

small onion, diced tiny (grated is better)

garlic

fresh ginger

cayenne

1 tsp salt

1 tsp cumin

1 tsp coriander

1/4 tsp cinnamon

pinch of ground cloves

1/4 c crushed tomatoes

1 carrot, peeled and diced

1 lb sweet potatoes, peeled and chopped into 2" pieces (in this version I photographed I baked them first [because I thought I was making something else], but you don't have to)

2 1/2 cup water

1/4 cup heavy cream

1 1/2 TBSP chunky peanut butter (no sugar added is best)

chopped peanuts

cilantro and chopped peanuts for garnish

This is a pretty mild dish. Add more cayenne or chili powder to give it more heat if you like that.

In the stock pot, heat about a TBSP of oil until shimmering. Saute about two cloves of garlic and the onion in this, just for a minute or two.

Add spices and cook one minute longer.

Add tomatoes and sweet potato. Stir and cook for two more minutes.

Add water and turn up heat until liquid simmers. Cook for 20 minutes or until the sweet potatoes fall apart when prodded with a fork.

CAREFULLY blend or process smooth. Return to pot if necessary. Stir in cream and peanut butter over low heat. When you serve it, sprinkle on a little cilantro and some chopped peanuts.

There you go.

Curried Rice

This recipe is modified from one I found in an old cookbook called, scandalously enough, Vegetarian Pleasures, which makes me think about the line in Marvell’s “To His Coy Mistress”: “My vegetable love should grow/ Vaster than empires and more slow.” Try to tell students that that’s not about using food to masturbate. Go ahead. I have.

Here are the ingredients as I use them, though you should substitute as you please: this is tofu (cut in cubes and pressed dry), spices (coriander, salt, paprika, turmeric), peas, soy sauce, cooked and chilled rice, carrots, and peppers.

The first thing you want to do is heat just a little oil in a wok and sauté the tofu until it’s golden; you’ll do this in batches. Remove and drain on paper towels.

Pre-cook the carrots in the microwave for a minute, then finish them in the residual oil in the wok. Add the peppers, cook for just a minute, then add the spices, and cook for another minute until the vegetables are well coated. Remove them from the wok and set aside. You can mix them with the tofu if you like, since everything’s going together eventually anyway.

In the residue of oil and spices, heat the rice, adding water to keep it from sticking. You may need up to two cups of water for this so keep some nearby. The rice will turn yellow from the turmeric.

Smash the clumps with your spoon so the rice separates and heats through. This is fun, particularly if you’re feeling anxious or frustrated. When the rice is heated, add the tofu, peas, carrots, and peppers. Heat until peas are cooked, stirring gently to keep the rice from sticking. Add soy sauce. Serve with Indian pickle (we’re partial to Vimal chilli pickle or mango pickle [or you could make your own: we get our pickle at the Dekalb Farmers' Market], but that might be because it’s the only kind we can get here, I don’t know). We eat this with tortillas, but if you have naan or roti, it’s probably better that way.

I’ve experimented with using other vegetables (basically because I was too lazy to go to the store). Virtually everything works. Also: add some jalapeno paste when you add the spices. It’s even better that way.

There you go.