When I first opened Kristina Cho's Book, Chinese Enough, one of the first things I wanted to make was Kohlrabi and Radish Salad with Chili Crunch. It was not the first thing I made from this book, although it is the first dish I will write about in this post.
What attracted me to this dish? First of all, love kohlrabi, and very nice kohlrabi is often available at my local Asian Market, Sunrise Supermart. I don't recall eating kohlrabi much growing up, but it is common in German and Austrian cooking, and it was the favorite vegetable of my late husband, who was born in Austria. I also love Chinkiang Vinegar, which is one variety of Chinese black vinegar. It is made from fermented glutinous rice, and although there are many bottles and brands that add wheat, it is not difficult to find Chinkiang Vinegar with no wheat added, at least if one has a good Chinese or Asian market nearby and is willing to spend time reading labels. But having celiac disease taught me that taking time to read labels is a good idea, and I have come to embrace that idea on a broader scale, meaning I like knowing exactly what is going into my food..
But back to the salad. First I made the chili crunch. I've made nearly every chili crunch from nearly every cookbook I own which has one, and this was good but I'm not certain it is my favorite. I would have liked more heat, but that was my fault as I was out of hot red pepper flakes when I made it, and, being too lazy to run to the store, I made it using mildish Korean gochugaru flakes. And were I to make this one again, I would probably use hot Chinese chiles.
Although the recipe called for watermelon radishes, I initially assumed I would use regular radishes simply because I don't often see watermelon radishes. However I saw some in the farmer's market that week, so I used them. They were in fact the weak part of an otherwise lovely salad. I admit to knowing little about watermelon radishes. These were large; even though they were round, I did not know if they were best small, like a more basic radish, or if they remained tender even as they grew large, like a Daikon or Korean radish. These were too hard and woody. Even though I sliced the radishes very thinly on a mandoline, they still had a tough, woody bite to them. I still don't know if that is just the variety, or a growing issue.
Take kohlrabi for example. I love tender young kohlrabi, and when I grew them found mine to become tough if they grew too large. But that could have partially been a matter of how I grew them, because the kohlrabi I buy at my Asian market are huge, and yet still crisp, bright, and tender, only rarely are they tough, despite their size. Obviously, like all vegetables, terroir, and attention matter. Anyway my initial thought was that since this has been a mostly cool, and wet spring, tender radishes would be likely. In this case I was wrong.
I loved the flavors of the salad; it was bright, tart from the vinegar, but with a slightly funky, nutty, oily heat that did not dominate but softened and rounded out the flavors of the vegetables. However, due to the radishes, I realized I was unlikely to finish the salad, despite the fact that the author says it keeps five days.
Then I had a thought.
I had some leftover roast chicken in the fridge and a partial bottle of heavy cream. I wondered if I could turn the kohlrabi/radish salad into a kind of gratin with the leftover chicken. I knew kohlrabi bakes well; I've made kohlrabi gratins. Radishes of all varieties steam well, so it seemed logical that it would also work in a gratin, so I proceeded. First I drained the vegetables because the vinegar would not help. I had about 6 cups of thinly sliced vegetables, and about 3 cups of shredded chicken. I also had two medium-sized russet potatoes in the pantry, and since I was about to go out of town I thought I would use those as well.
I dabbed the bottom of the gratin dish with a small amount of butter, layered the peeled and thinly sliced potatoes as a base and then alternated layers of chicken and vegetables. I grated a small chunk of havarti I rescued from the fridge on top, then poured the heavy cream over it all and baked it until the cheese was brown, the liquid was thick and bubbling and the potatoes were cooked through.
Although it was not a beautiful dish, it was delicious. I expected it to be good, how could it not be? But it was far greater than the sum of its parts -- more complex and more enticing than I had hoped. Due to the high volume of radish and kohlrabi, the dish was lighter than many gratins, but it was still substantial. The vegetables cooked down but were still tender and toothsome, with a fresh, fruity, crisp-soft, and yet still slightly starchy consistency that was very appealing. The color of the radishes faded substantially, but they also colored the dish a very faint pink. The potatoes didn't add much, but I felt virtuous for not leaving them behind. What started out as an impromptu "mess" of a fridge clean-out, turned into a dish that I would make intentionally, not just as to use up leftovers.
I'd been in "play" mode in the kitchen for a few months, but this dish kind of tripped the pause button. I actually made two small gratins and froze one. It makes me so happy when something virtuous also ends up tasting sublime. And these happy accidents send my mind wandering along the many ways that food has shaped human development and culture. I perhaps never would have thought of making a gratin with radishes, cream, and chili crunch, but it worked beautifully.
That is the thing, for me anyway, about cooking and exploring new cookbooks. I find it fun. Both reading a cookbook, and cooking from it, expands not only my palate and my skills, but my imagination as well. I may not be in the mood to cook, but I'm still in the mood to write about cooking. What I love is not just learning new dishes, but the process of inspiration that leads me to discover and think about food in new (to me) ways.