MACCU

is a puree of dried fava beans that have been soaked and then cooked, usually with wild fennel greens, salt, and olive oil. It's a plain dish -- a staple of Sicilian peasants since antiquity, when the Romans introduced it there -- but it can be absolutely great. I finally found a source of peeled dried favas -- Bob's Red Mill -- and that makes it very palatable: dried favas with their skins on are extremely chewy . . .

Favas, along with chickpeas, lentils, and peas, were the only principal legumes available in Europe and Asia (where they also had soybeans) until the conquistadors brought "true" beans (as well as potatoes, tomatoes, peppers, etc.) back from the New World in the 16th century. They formed the protein base of the diet of millions (and stoked the engines of the imperialist Roman armies). Maccu is an Italian equivalent of, say, Indian dal dishes, or the biblical mess of pottage (a lentil and bread stodge, apparently).

The Maccu dish I made the other day is derived from a couple of recipes: one in Mary Taylor Simeti's Pomp and Sustenance: Twenty-five Centuries of Sicilian Food (a rare cross between a cookbook and a compelling social history), the other in Nancy Harmon Jenkins's The Essential Mediterranean, which has a whole section on "The Oldest Legumes" full of insight and intriguing recipes.

Maccu
1/2 pound dried peeled fava beans
1 tsp. salt (or more to taste)
2 pints water
olive oil
wild fennel greens

Soak fava beans overnight in water. Drain and place in a heavy pot with 2 pints of water (or enough to cover generously), the fennel greens, and 1 tsp. salt. Cook slowly until beans can be mashed against side of pot into a puree (or use a hand mixer). Adjust salt and add olive oil (1 to 4 tbs., as you prefer).

What you should have at this point is a porridge with a consistency somewhere between a thick dal and hummus. It's great slathered on thick slices of toasted bread as a snack, or served with steamed greens (dandelion leaves, collards, chard, kale, etc.) on the side (as Jenkins suggests) and/or with a mixture of sauteed onions and tomatoes (as Simeti suggests). Alternatively, you can add more water and cook a small pasta (ditalini, orzo, etc.) in the pot for the final 10 minutes or so, to make a more filling main course. That's what I did when it was freshly cooked, serving the resulting dish with the onion/tomato mixture.

You have to eat it while it's hot, though -- like polenta, maccu sets into a solid mass as it cools. But like polenta one can then cut it up and grill or fry it, which I did the following night, sauteeing slices of it with black Kalamata olives and Mozzetta's great bottled Tuscan peppers.

Notes: for the wild fennel greens that Italian, Sicilian, and Greek recipes so often call for, I use the fronds of the non-bulbing variety of fennel (Foeniculum vulgare) that's easy to grow anywhere: in the Mediterranean-like climate of San Francisco, it really does grow wild in the parks. I use it from spring onward as a flavoring, and was able to pick the last fronds for this dish even after a couple of light frosts. Now that it's gone until March or April, I'll be relying on the fronds clipped from occasional bought bulb fennel (Florence fennel, Foeniculum vulgare var. azoricum), and use the bulb in any of several recipes that are great with pasta. Recipes suggest you can use fennel seeds instead, but their flavor is much less subtle, as anyone who's tasted Emeril's bottled fennel pasta sauce can attest.

GARDEN UPDATE, NOV. 2004:

The overwintering crops I planted on Halloween have all germinated by now. The winter rye grass started coming up around November 15, followed by its companion cover crop, hairy vetch, a week later. And a few days ago, the fava bean shoots poked their way through the increasingly heavy, wet soil. They're amazing -- even if it freezes next week, they'll be fine, and keep growing very slowly until March, when they really start to take off. Then it's fresh favas in late April/early May, depending on how warm the spring turns out to be. But how to survive without them until then? Answers shortly . . .

THE MEDITERRANEAN DIET:

a pretty persuasive account of the health advantages of the Mediterranean diet. It ran in the Los Angeles Times on September 27, 2004.

MEDITERRANEAN DIET MAY HOLD A KEY TO LONGEVITY
A 'divine mix' of fresh fruits and vegetables, fish, beans, olive oil and wine, combined with moderate exercise, could add years

By Melissa Healy

Drizzle on the olive oil, uncork a bottle of wine, and hit the cobblestones — you may not only reach old age but extend it longer than most, a pair of European studies has concluded. The new research represents yet another victory for those espousing a diet rich in vegetables, fruits, beans, fish and olive oil, washed down with a daily glass or two of wine. In one 10-year survey of elderly European men and women, researchers found that those who adhered to a "Mediterranean diet," did not smoke, drank moderately and remained physically active were about half as likely to die during the study period than those whose diets and lifestyles were less healthy.

A second, smaller study found that when patients at risk for developing heart disease and Type 2 diabetes followed a Mediterranean-style diet for two years, they lost more weight and lowered their blood pressure, insulin and glucose levels and "bad" cholesterol — and increased "good" cholesterol — more than a similar group who were put on a low-fat diet.

Study author Dr. Katherine Esposito of the Second University of Naples, Italy, said the study was the first demonstration that a diet rich in whole grains, fruits, vegetables, legumes, walnuts and olive oil might be effective in warding off diseases of the heart and vascular system. In the United States, where almost a quarter of the population is considered at risk for developing heart disease or diabetes, widespread adoption of a Mediterranean diet could improve health significantly, she and her coauthors surmised.

The studies, which drew together researchers from France, Spain, the Netherlands and Italy, were published in the Sept. 21 issue of the Journal of the American Medical Assn.

In the first study, researchers spent a decade following 2,339 men and women from 11 European countries who were age 70 to 90. The researchers tallied the participants' eating and drinking habits, activity levels and whether they smoked cigarettes, and then recorded who died and of what. Those who received a "lifestyle" score of 4 points ate a diet typical of the Mediterranean region, drank a moderate amount of alcohol daily, either did not smoke or had quit smoking cigarettes at least 15 years earlier, and engaged in at least 30 minutes of physical activity a day. When a study participant fell short on any one of these measures, his or her score would drop a point.

At the end of the study period, about 70% of those with a lifestyle score of 4 were still enjoying la dolce vita. Just over 40% of those with scores between 0 and 1 were still alive. The Mediterranean diet, typically, is light on meat and dairy products and has higher levels of monounsaturated fats — found in walnuts and olive oil — relative to saturated fat, found in meat and dairy-rich products. A diet typical of the region would also include several servings of fish weekly and would be rich in vegetables and legumes such as chickpeas and lentils. All, of course, taken with a daily glass or two of red wine.

Scientists in recent years have begun to document how several components of a Mediterranean diet might help protect against disease. Consuming the Omega-3 fatty acids in fish such as tuna, lake trout and salmon several times a week has been found to reduce the likelihood of heart disease, and the minerals and monounsaturated fats in olives and many nuts have been linked to lower levels of cardiovascular disease. Those who eat a diet rich in fresh vegetables — and fresh produce is at the heart of the Mediterranean diet — have a clearly documented lower risk of cancer. And red wine, taken in moderation, is a vasodilator that has been found to reduce the incidence of strokes when drunk regularly.

While any one of these components might bring some benefit, it is also possible, scientists say, that the elements of a Mediterranean diet may work together to boost health even more. Dimitrios Trichopoulos of Harvard University's School of Public Health, who conducted some of the first research on the life-prolonging effects of the Mediterranean diet, has called the elements of that region's food a "divine mix" that seems to endow its adherents with special protections. But Alice Lichtenstein, director of Tufts University's cardiovascular nutrition lab, says that physical activity is a key element of that mix, helping to ensure a healthy body weight in spite of a high intake of fat among those whose diets include large amounts of olive oil and nuts.

"It's the whole package, and we need to be thinking of it that way," said Lichtenstein, who chairs the American Heart Assn.'s Nutrition Committee. She added that the combination of diet and exercise that dominates in the Mediterranean region "is essentially the recommendation that the American Heart Assn. has been making for 10 to 15 years."

In the end, the first study found that staying physically active appeared to trump all other factors in its life-prolonging effects. Those who spent 30 minutes or more walking, cycling, gardening or performing vigorous household chores had a 37% lower risk of dying during the 10-year period. A nonsmoking history came in second — it was associated with a 35% lower risk of death. But simply following a Mediterranean diet and drinking a moderate amount of alcohol had significant benefits on their own; they appeared to lower the risk of death during the study period by 23% and 22%, respectively.

In an accompanying editorial, Harvard School of Public Health professors Eric R. Rimm and Meir Stampfer wrote that the two studies, bolstered by past research, should underscore the urgency of promoting healthy lifestyles as a means of treating heart disease. "The United States spends billions on chronic disease treatments and interventions for risk factors. Although these are useful and important, a fraction of that investment to promote healthful lifestyles for primary prevention among individuals of all ages would yield greater benefit," the authors wrote.

TOMATO GRAVY:

Every year you discover a few new things to cook, if you’re lucky. The past few months I’ve been pretty singlemindedly exploring Greek food, but 2004 will go down in my memory as the year in which I found out about tomato gravy.

I first read about tomato gravy last winter in a biography of the Carter Family. The career of the original trio ended in the 1940s because Sara Carter, the vocal genius of the group (as distinct from instrumental genius Maybelle Carter and song-appropriating/rewriting genius A.P. Carter), divorced A.P. and retired to California, where she remarried and spent the rest of her life as the domestic homebody she apparently wanted to be. And one of Sara’s favorite things to cook, I learned from Will You Miss Me When I'm Gone?: The Carter Family and Their Legacy in American Music, was biscuits with tomato gravy.

Well, I’m no Southerner, not even an American, so maybe it’s not surprising I’d never heard of tomato gravy. And since the book was about music, it offered no details, just left me feeling hungry for something I couldn’t quite imagine (gravy has a special place in the hearts of the English, too, in whose cuisine it covers a multitude of sins).

It wasn’t hard to turn up any number of recipes for tomato gravy online, though, and there’s little variation. It’s easy to prepare -- and it tastes fabulous.

TOMATO GRAVY
3 tbs. peanut oil
3 tbs. flour
1 cup water or stock
2 cups grated fresh tomatoes or 1 can chopped or crushed tomatoes with their juice
salt and pepper
soy sauce (optional)

Heat oil in a skillet or small saucepan over medium heat. Add flour and stir until flour browns (approx. 5 minutes), then add the water or stock and cook for 5 minutes, stirring constantly (add a little extra water if the mixture is too thick to stir easily). Then add tomatoes and cook until gravy thickens again. Add salt and pepper to taste, or if you prefer a slightly darker color, use 1/2 to 1 tbs. soy sauce instead of the salt.

I started making this in the late summer, when I had lots of fresh tomatoes, and grated the tomatoes, holding the stem end (so that when you’ve finished grating you’re left with the skin in your hand and nothing else). Now that winter’s here, canned tomatoes are a fine substitute (Muir Glen ones taste best).

Tomato gravy is perfect for giving additional flavor and sauciness to a simple dinner of baked potatoes and steamed green beans, or as a topping for baked winter squash with garlic mashed potatoes and stewed greens, and any kind of crispy-coated protein-rich patty on the side (Quorn and Morningstar both make good ones; I made my own on this occasion).

BAKED WINTER SQUASH
Heat oven to 375F. Line a shallow baking pan with foil. Cut squash in half and scoop out seeds and pulp (I save them for making stock). Spray cut surfaces lightly with olive oil, sprinkle with sage, salt and pepper, and place face down in foil-lined pan. Bake 45 to 75 minutes (depending on size) until fork-tender.

I used an organic Kabocha squash (dark green skin, deep orange flesh, very flavorful), but there are so many great varieties, and they're at their best right now: one of greatest eating pleasures of late fall and early winter.

SAVORY BEAN PATTIES
1 can red kidney beans, roughly mashed
1/4 cup minced onion
1 bell pepper, minced
1 or 2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 tsp. dried oregano
1 tbs. parsley, minced
salt and pepper to taste

Mix all ingredients together and add just enough olive oil to bind the ingredients. form into 1/2-inch thick patties, coat with cornmeal, and bake in 400F oven on a lightly greased nonstick cookie sheet until browned, approx. 30 minutes.

Obviously this recipe can be varied in many ways -- different beans, different seasonings, different kinds of peppers -- but kidney beans work really well here when they're mashed, because of their more solid texture (exactly what makes them hard going for many people when served whole).

Incidentally, the pepper I used was the last green one from my California Wonder plant -- freshly picked and still firm and juicy in mid-November.

What to do with overdeveloped string beans:

It might be a little late to be posting this for 2004, unless you live in a very temperate zone and your vines haven't yet succumbed to cold and damp. I harvested my last pole beans in mid-October, and that's about as late as I can recall for this far north. But as a procedure it'll work whenever you have beans that weren't picked until they got oversized. So if you ever have pole beans that you didn’t get to pick before they overdeveloped, and now they’re bulging with seeds and hence not really candidates for boiling or braising, here’s a way to make them taste unbelievably great.

Heat oven to 450°F

Snap off the ends of the beans and any strings that come off with these (not many probably, if you grew traditional pole varieties like Blue Lake), wash and dry. Per 1 lb. of beans mix together:

1-2 tbs. olive oil
1-2 cloves crushed garlic
1/2 inch crushed fresh ginger (I put it through the garlic press)
salt & pepper to taste

Put the beans on a baking sheet or in a shallow baking dish, pour the dressing over them, and tosss with your hands so that all the beans are well coated and lying flat in a single layer on the baking sheet. Roast for 15-20 mins. (middle shelf), tossing once or twice, until beans are browned (even blackened in places), Serve immediately, either as a side dish or tossed with a tubular pasta (penne, rigatoni, tortiglioni) as a main dish.

The beans I prepared this way – three times in the first two weeks of October – were fantastic. The pods were almost crisp and perfectly edible, and the seeds inside had steamed and were smooth and creamy. I ate them with pasta. A little crumbled feta, grated pecorino, or ricotta salata, would have been a great topping, I think, but they tasted so good as they were that I just didn’t bother. I did add a thinly sliced de-seeded Anaheim pepper from in my garden, which added additional flavor and color (they had turned red by then). On one ocasion I omitted the ginger and the dish tasted just as good.

Note: Jack Bishop (see book source below) says this method will also make wilted beans taste great, and I guess it would, although if they were the thinner French-style green beans that markets usually offer, I imagine you'd have to cut the cooking time to 10 minutes or so. I know I'm going to be tempted to treat store-bought beans this way at some point before the next growing season, since they're never completely fresh to start with when you buy them here in the winter amd spring (they've presumably been picked hundreds of miles away, several days before they reach the store, and refrigerated/iced while in transit).

Seed source: Territorial Seed Company, “Blue Lake Pole”, http://www.territorial-seed.com
Recipe source: “Roasted Green Beans with Garlic & Ginger.” In Jack Bishop’s Vegetables Every Day (HarperCollins, 2001). A great book, currently remaindered for about $10.

AFTER THE DEBACLE:

Somehow I didn't feel much like cooking the last few days, let alone writing about it. Thank goodness for Amy's pizzas. And this doesn't feel like the place to go on about how much of a disaster the election was, so I'll let The Nation's editorial "Stand and Fight" speak for me here.

IN PRAISE OF RUTABAGAS:

Yes, rutabagas are a kind of turnip, and turnips tend to be unappealingly bitter. But rutabagas (which are yellow, not white) are usually sweeter, especially if you roast them. And if you enhance their natural sweetness with some kind of glaze, they taste better still. They have a strong flavor, for sure, but one that grows on you.

When I came to the USA twenty years ago, I'd never heard of rutabagas, but I'd grown up (in the north of England) knowing that I preferred what we called "swede" to the detested turnip. I didn't exactly like swede a whole lot, but I suspect my parents didn't either, and we only ever ate it mashed to a pulp together with equally overcooked boiled carrots and doused in ounces of butter and a lot of salt and pepper. (Why did we eat them at all? One day I'll write something about what an English greengrocer's shop looked like in winter in the 1960s -- with maybe 9 or 10 items, tops -- and why you therefore ended up eating even things you didn't really care for that much -- just for a change).

Anyway, it turns out the word rutabaga derives from a Swedish dialect word "rotabagge" (literally, bag root), and is in fact the same as what we called swede, namely brassica napus. I bought some very fresh looking rutabagas today (before I learned all this) in the impressive, newly opened New Seasons market on Division St. here in Portland and turned to Andrea Chesman's "The Roasted Vegetable" (Harvard Common Press, 2002), which I've had out of the library for months in anticipation of fall but never consulted until today, to figure out what to do with them.

Her recipe for Maple-Glazed Rutabagas (p. 50) involves tossing 1-inch square chunks of peeled rutabaga in oil and salt and roasting them in a shallow baking pan for around 25 minutes at 450 degrees until they're tender, then pouring a maple syrup/butter/nutmeg mixture over them and putting them back in the oven for another 10 minutes or so to finish cooking. I had to turn the oven down to 400 to avoid the chunks turning too brown before they were fully cooked, and I omitted the butter from the glaze (there was enough fat with the oil I'd started out with (she suggests canola oil, but I used peanut oil, which worked fine and added a little flavor of its own), but otherwise followed her simple but effective recipe, and served them with mashed potatoes and Morningstar brand fajita patties. The glaze helped them develop a toothsome lightly carbonized crust, and they disappeared pretty fast.