A week ago my daughter was seized by a sudden craving for serious breakfast food, and I, being of an acquiescent state of mind, agreed happily. She did some online research and came up with a place I had never heard of, about ten miles from our home.: Pogo's in East Bridgewater.
Off we went, through unfamiliar territory (mostly farm country, which I always forget exists around here) and arrived at lunchtime, but that wasn't a problem because all they serve there is breakfast, until 3:00 pm. When we walked in, there were perhaps four other customers--and a crew taking pictures for a cable television segment of The Phantom Gourmet.
Now, some people might have backed out the door and sought other options, but I write for this blog, so how could I pass up the opportunity to watch the pros take pictures of food? We settled ourselves in a booth, were handed humongous menus with a mind-boggling array of breakfast food choices, and I proceeded to take pictures of a guy taking pictures of food. in fact, I almost took a picture of a woman taking pictures of the guy taking pictures. Writing for MLK is doing strange things to me.
|Don't you love the way the french toast matches|
the flowers on the plate?
The camera crew (which arrived before we did and was still there when we left) kept rolling new dishes from the back of the restaurant, and taking more pictures. I was immediately jealous of the large lights at their disposal, since I usually get by with my kitchen overhead. I was also amused when the photographer, apparently not satisfied with the gargantuan stack of blueberry pancakes in front of him, sliced them in half and stacked the halves, resulting in a six-inch pile of pancake. (Regrettably, he didn't eat any of the dishes he photographed.)
I hope to catch the show, but they were rather vague about when it might air. I also hope to go back to the restaurant, although I calculate it may easily take me the rest of my life to work my way through the menu.
Since the cardamom in my french toast evoked happy memories of my Swedish step-grandmother's cardamom twist bread, I had hoped to present that to you this week, but (a) I can't find the recipe, although I'm sure it's somewhere in the house, and (b) it's really more of a holiday treat that a summer dish, since it's yeast-raised. So I shifted gears to make something cool and healthy, using my more recent finds from our local farmers' market.
I am a newcomer to the joys of kohlrabi, which Wikipedia defines as a "low, stout cultivar of the cabbage," created by artificial selection for "lateral meristem growth." Uh-huh. Basically it a softball-size round stem with a nice crunch and a mild flavor.
I also happened to have brought home some mild white radishes, so I couldn't resist combining the two. Of course, the result was white on white, so I decided to spruce it up a bit with some parsley and some finely chopped red bell pepper.
Serves four as a side dish
Remove the leaves and stems from a fresh kohlrabi and peel it. Run it through the coarse grater attachment of your food processor. (Okay, you could do it by hand if you insist.)
Scrub some radishes (there are many available varieties, large and small, bland through peppery--use what you can find fresh, in whatever quantity you choose). You need to peel them only if they're large and tough. Then shred them as you did the kohlrabi.
Remove the stem and membranes from a red sweet pepper (I happened to have some of the miniature ones on hand), and dice finely.
Chop a small bunch of fresh parsley (what size is a bunch? depends on how much you like parsley)
Combine the ingredients. Dress lightly with a vinaigrette or other salad dressing of your choosing (bottled is fine). Do don't this too long before you intend to eat it or the salad will become soggy.
And enjoy! It's a light, quick dish with a nice earthy flavor and crunch--good for a summer side dish with whatever you've cooked on the grill.