Eat the compost!

06/27/2006
Eat the compost!

For me, one of the great satisfactions of having a vegetable garden is the recycling of its wastes into rich compost. What vindictive pleasure I get from every wheelbarrow-load of freshly pulled weeds I dump onto the top of the compost heap! Those weeds may have thought they'd steal my vegetables' space and soil nutrients, but ha! Instead, I've turned the tables on them, not only foiling their attempt at subversion but literally turning the tables on them. Now, on my compost pile, it is the weeds that will contribute their very own nutrients to my soil.

However, I'm a good bit less gleeful about remitting some of my other garden 'wastes' to the compost. For instance, those lettuces which I overplanted; I was sure I was going to get around to eating the thinnings in time to prevent the remaining plants from bolting. But once again, I'm sure the super-long days of early summer will coax the tidy rosettes of my lettuce into long, ungainly, bitter-leafed stems. I always try to make sure no one is looking when I throw my heaps of bolted lettuce on the compost pile. My unseen critic is saying, "Why do you bother to grow the stuff just to throw it in the compost?"

So imagine my delight when I discovered that the stems of bolted lettuce make a delicious cooked vegetable. This according to Jean-Philippe Derenne, professor of medecine and passionate amateur cook, author of three fascinating books on eating and cooking. (France has a grand tradition of doctor/ cookbook authors.) The resourceful Dr. Derenne discovered (and I admit that I'm a bit jealous that I didn't discover this myself) that, peeled and lightly steamed, the 'marrow' of lettuce stems makes a delicious, delicately flavored addition to summer vegetable medleys, or can be served on its own. There was even a photo of these cooked lettuce stems accompanying the article, and they're beautiful: lithe batons of an altogether appetising, pale, delicate green.

Looking at them, I itched with desire for bolted lettuce, so that I could serve the stems to Denis. I imagined asking him innocently, "Do you know what vegetable you're eating there?" And thus, I would vindicate my sense of guilt for planting too much lettuce and throwing it in the compost. Even if I couldn't eat all those lettuce stems, just eating a few would atone for the sin of tossing the rest of them. Or so went my convoluted reasoning.

This year, even though we're just past the solstice, as luck would have it, my lettuce hasn't bolted yet. But when it does, I'll be ready to transform it into the latest in trendy dishes: recipes using usually-discarded or not-eaten vegetable parts. Perhaps this trend started with eating pea shoots, which Asians have probably been doing for thousands of years. But we Westerners have now "discovered" pea shoots, much as Columbus "discovered" the new world.

Here in France, creative chefs often use radish and carrot tops, in soup or in a "jus" used either to season a dish as part of a swirl of sauce on the plate, or outright in a medley with other vegetable juices, served in stylish little glasses as an entremet (interlude between courses). Carrot tops are quite fibrous and can't be served outright as a vegetable. But radish leaves are more succulent and can be added to a vegetable saute at the last minute. Either way, fanes de carottes and fanes de radis spell chic on a French menu.

Of course, other vegetable 'tops' offer less marginal eating. Take beet greens, for instance. If you've been tossing out your beet greens, you've been missing out on one delicious vegetable. I owe this discovery to my mother, who, taking home a sumptuous bunch of fresh beets from my garden one day, told me that, unable to bear throwing out those thick, beautiful greens, she had cooked them up. Delicious! I've been eating them ever since--more substance than spinach, more velvety than chard, and better than either.

Of course, most people know that turnip greens are good eating. Americans do anyway; the French seem shocked at the idea. But I'll bet there are some folks out there who don't realize that the bunches of turnip greens sold in the supermarket are none other than the tops of turnip roots sold separately. I love the mustardy flavor of turnip greens, whose spiciness and rough texture are mellowed out by cooking.

During last year's trip to China, I discovered another interesting vegetable 'spare part' which I'd never before tasted: squash vine tips. I ate these in numerous country restaurants, where they were served boiled in a light chicken broth. The flavor was delicate and delicious. According to Paula Wolfert, in her wonderful book Mediterranean Grains and Greens, the Sicilians also eat the vine tips of a squash called zucchetta rampicante. Near the end of summer, I always pinch back the ends of my winter squash vines to encourage the already-formed fruits to ripen. This year, I plan to cook those pinchings! To be determined: whether all varieties of squash vines taste good.

And as we're talking about the not-usually-eaten parts of the Cucurbitaceae, here's my favorite item in that category: melon seed juice. Scoop the seeds and stringy pulp out of a cantaloupe, put them in a strainer, and mush them down with a wooden spoon to extract all the juice. Now you have melon seed juice. And what, you may ask, should you do with said juice? Well, here's a fascinating bit of vegetable spare part trivia: melon seed juice is rich in natural pectin and has a very pleasing flavor (assuming it came from a good ripe melon.) As such, it makes an intriguing addition to a vinaigrette, where it helps keep the dressing in emulsion.

Melon seed vinaigrette

Juice from seeds of one ripe melon (see above)
1 T. fruity vinegar, such as mango vinegar, or simply white wine or rice wine vinegar
1-2 T. fresh lemon or lime juice (to taste)
4 T. extra virgin olive oil
Sea salt and freshly ground pepper.

Whisk together all ingredients until lightly emulsified. Serve over young garden lettuces, or--especially delicious--over plates of ripe cantaloupe and Parma ham.

Compost never tasted so good!

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