Recipes for Almost Nobody: Carrot-Greens Chimichurri and Pesto

I have a confession. I don’t really like salads. The leafy kind, anyway. They’re wonderful every so often, especially when there’s a good balance of texture and flavor and a worthwhile dressing, but I’ve never been the kind of person that can enjoy a salad with every meal. I love greens, and I certainly love vegetables, but there’s just something about looking at a big bowl of leaves that leaves me feeling overwhelmed.

With that being the case, it’s no help when someone suggests a salad as a way to use beet, radish, turnip, or carrot greens. If you’re a salad person, that’s a no brainer. But if you have more greens than you can possibly eat in that fashion, you can’t just make more salads. And as noble a cause as it may be, you’re not going to get more Americans to start paying more attention to these ignored greens by telling them to eat more salads.

This week, my focus was on carrot greens. I had previously made a lemon vinaigrette with carrot greens for a raw beet and carrot salad, which came out delicious and encouraged me to try more. However, that vinaigrette was only good for using a couple tablespoons of greens. Carrots have been a regular player in my CSA basket, so I’ve really been racking my brain and the internet for non-salad way to use them. Making pesto seemed like a cop-out, but then I had the idea to add some to a chimichurri. I really like my parsley in chimichurri though, so I merely accented it with the carrot greens, which left the rest free to go ahead and try a pesto.

Carrot greens can be a little tough and bitter, so before using them in either sauce, I blanched them. This worked better than I expected, softening both their flavor and texture just enough to maintain their distinctive grassy notes, but not making them blend into unpalatable mush. Another nice bonus I’ve noticed is that carrot greens don’t oxidize the way basil does, and I’ve had no problem keeping my pesto a gorgeous green!

On a side note, I realize a recipe like this won’t have the most reach. It’s really a shame that carrots don’t generally come with their greens attached, unless you buy from a farmers market or are fortunate enough to be a CSA member. This is done to prolong the carrots’ freshness, as the greens will continue to draw moisture from the carrots as long as they’re attached. Still, there’s a massive source of nutrition that’s just…going where? Compost, hopefully? Even beets and radishes frequently keep their greens. Carrots could really be a poster child for everything that’s wrong with the American relationship to food.

For the chimichurri, I included most of the main stem of the greens, which can be quite tough, because I wanted the added crunch in the texture of the sauce. I removed the main stalks for the pesto though, so that it would have a finer, smoother texture. You can do as you please, but if you really want to go no-waste, the stems that don’t make it into the pesto can be saved for adding to stocks.

Note: To blanch greens, add the carrot tops to a pot of boiling water. Boil briefly, 30-60 seconds, just until the greens brighten and barely soften. (They may look a bit more wilted than they really are). Drain and rinse well under cold water, or better yet, shock in an ice bath. Dry well in a spinner or laid out on paper towels.

Carrot-Green Chimichurri

1 bunch parsley

approx. 1/3 cup carrot greens with stems, blanched

4 garlic cloves

¼ tsp red pepper flakes

¼ C red wine vinegar

up to ½ C olive oil

salt and pepper to taste

Add the first 5 ingredients to a food processor and pulse to combine. With the motor running, slowly drizzle in the oil. I like my chimichurri a little oily, but you may prefer less. Season with salt and pepper. Let sit for 2 hours or so (in the fridge is fine) before using. Let come to room temperature a little before using as the oil may solidify somewhat in a very cold fridge.

Carrot-Green and Walnut Pesto

Carrot greens from 1 large bunch of carrots, blanched, and main stems removed (approx 2 cups greens)

½ C walnuts, toasted

4 garlic cloves

½ – ¾ C olive oil

salt and pepper to taste

Add the greens, walnuts, and garlic to a food processor and pulse to combine. With the motor running, slowly drizzle in the oil. Honestly I didn’t measure after 1/3 cup and just poured straight from the bottle, but you can adjust the oil amount according to your liking or whatever the pesto needs to get to the right consistency. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

And Now for Something Completely Different

After well over a year of staying away, I finally went back to Café Seoul. During my initial visits, I oohed and awed and the colorful dishes I saw others eating, stared bewilderedly at the barely distinct menu items on the wall that were actually in English, and resigned myself to an order of bulgogi. Which is good, but also pretty much the most boring thing I ever ate. The sweet marinade is all too reminiscent of your run of the mill American teriyaki, and that fact that it’s just a serving of beef next to a serving of rice really just makes me want to run out of the restaurant crying.

This time, however, was going to be different. I walked confidently to the wall to examine the pictures, but before I had the chance to look, the owner handed me a menu and told me to sit down. He never handed me a menu before. It even had English, and descriptions. “Didn’t you used to have lunch specials?” I ask. He flips the menu over and stabs it with his finger. I choke. Bulgogi.

“The pork one is spicy, OK?”

“OK. Can I get a refill?”

“Yes. It comes with medium drink.” He shows me on the menu.

“Yes, but can I get more?”

I get the feeling he’s giving me free drinks, for the wrong reasons.

Attempting to eat at Café Seoul reminds me of that incident with Anthony Bourdain in China. His guide took him to a street vendor selling skewered offal, and the owner got angry and tried to refuse to serve him. Maybe it was because he was on camera, maybe it was because she thinks he won’t like it, or maybe it was because of who she thinks he is. I like to image that I would insist on eating if I had been in that situation, but clearly not if a somewhat less-than-friendly Korean gentleman can make me feel like I might as well have walked in still stuffing my face with a cheeseburger, and hardly worth the brighter horizons his fare might have provided me.

Though I never feel exactly welcome in Café Seoul, I still plan to return, if only to cry over a plate of bulgogi for the sake of taking up space in that damned dining room. Besides, if I’m not wanted there, when why does it say “teriyaki” on the sign outside? Its actual meaning aside, teriyaki is pretty much the word to advertise that you’re “sugar syrup plus some soy” friendly. Not that that’s why I came by in the first place. And I never showed up humming Gangnam Style, or asked for a fortune cookie, or even thought for a second that I might be better off in the Subway next door. I’m a foodie, damnit, not a stereotype.

Having left without any sort of satisfaction of having eaten actual Asian, much less Korean food, I was left to my own devices for a fix, and a little revenge. Vietnamese pickled carrot and daikon, made with Korean gochujang, served with a Japanese lychee Ramune, because screw you.

Pickled Carrot and Daikon

• About 2 cups total julienned carrot and daikon
• ¼ cup thinly sliced red onion
• 3 Tbs. rice vinegar
• 2 Tbs. water
• 3 tsp. gochujang
• 3 tsp. sugar
• ½ tsp. salt
• 1 tsp. sesame oil
• 1 Tbs. sesame seeds

Combine carrot, daikon, and onion in a bowl. In a separate bowl, combine vinegar, water, gochujang, sugar, and salt. Microwave about 30 seconds, just long enough to dissolve the sugar. Stir in sesame oil and seeds. Toss with carrot mixture and marinate in the fridge for a few hours.