1 cup buckwheat groats
1 large egg, lightly beaten
2 cups reduced-sodium vegetable broth
2 tablespoons soy sauce (regular or reduced-sodium)
2 tablespoons unseasoned rice vinegar
1 teaspoon Asian chile paste or sambal
1 teaspoon sugar
2 tablespoons toasted sesame oil
6 scallions, thinly sliced
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 tablespoon minced fresh ginger
2 large carrots, shredded through the large holes of a box grater
1 red bell pepper, seeded and chopped
½ pound green beans, cut into ½-inch pieces
1. Pour the buckwheat groats into a large bowl and mix in the egg until they are well coated, all the grains separated from one another.
2. Heat a large, dry saucepan over medium heat. Pour in the coated groats and stir over the heat for 2 minutes to set the egg. The groats should still be separate from each other.
3. Pour in the broth and increase the heat to high. Bring to a boil. Cover, reduce the heat to low, and simmer until the liquid has been absorbed and the groats are tender, about 15 minutes.
4. Spread the buckwheat on a large rimmed baking sheet and cool for 10 minutes to make sure the grains stay separate, rather than glomming onto each other.
5. Meanwhile, whisk the soy sauce, vinegar, chile paste, and sugar in a small bowl.
6. Heat a large wok over medium-high heat. Swirl in the oil, then add the scallions, garlic, and ginger. Stir-fry for 30 seconds.
7. Add the carrots, bell pepper, and green beans. Stir-fry until crisp-tender, about 2 minutes. Add all the buckwheat. Continue stir-frying for 1 minute. Pour in the soy sauce mixture and bring to a simmer, tossing and stirring for 1 more minute.
SERVES 4
Active time: 15 minutes
Total time: 40 minutes
Make ahead: Prepare the buckwheat in advance, through drying the grains on a baking sheet: Cover the cooked, separate groats on their baking sheet and store in the fridge for up to 2 days.
GRAIN SWAPS
TESTERS’ NOTES
You’ll know grains have broken the final barrier when they become part of your dinner-party repertoire. And yes, you should have a dinner-party repertoire—mostly because there are few better ways to experience the comfort of friends and family than around the table. We designed these last dishes as fare fit for those evenings.
One of the reasons we moved to rural New England is so we could have a dining room. In Manhattan, space was at a premium. What we had resembled what Lucy and Ricky had: We would pull the couch away and move the dining table into position. One Thanksgiving, when 14 descended on our apartment, we actually moved most of the furniture into the bedroom.
Out in the country, we’ve got the space for dinner parties. Which are events at our house. Eight is the perfect number: the two of us and six guests. More and it turns into an extravaganza. We do plated courses, one after another, over several hours. We drink a lot of wine, eat a lot of food, and all end up in a sort of buzzed euphoria. The conversation rolls on past midnight. Friends say “We’ve got to go” and stay another hour.
More and more, we’re serving whole-grain dishes like these. They pace the courses better. Over the years we’ve witnessed what can only be called “the meat coma.” People start to flag on the third course. And it’s not just the hard hit of protein. The flavor palette among the meat dishes starts to flatten out, meld, and lose vibrancy.
Not so with whole grains. Their appearance makes everyone pause, sit up, and take notice. Plus, they subtly alter even the undertones of the accompanying dishes. Stocked with polyunsaturated fats—which are more like reverb than volume when it comes to the way flavors orchestrate together—the grains carry forward tasty notes and aromas that would be left in the dust in a big hunk of roasted meat.
In fact, the very first recipe we tested for this book was the Pumpkin-Quinoa Soufflé. It came out as the first course of a dinner party on a winter evening—and set the tone for the night: gentle, quiet conversations about life’s foibles and fears. We’re not saying that the soufflé caused all that. But it somehow contributed to the general mood, as would any of these dishes, from the simple Triticale with Olive Oil, Garlic, and Anchovies , a riff on a Roman pasta dish, to the elegant Seared Tuna and Brown Rice Chirashi, a welcome first course to a larger meal—or a fine dinner-party dish on its own with some crunchy Japanese pickled vegetables on the side.
In the end, as we’ve said all along, food is far more than sustenance. It’s not only a primary pleasure vehicle for our bodies; it’s also a way to nurture the relationships in our lives, to treat people well, to show them that we love them. No single food group can do that as well as whole grains, with their long history of nurturing human community. So have some friends over and try out the Trout Stuffed with Wild Rice or the Black Rice Paella. A whole-grain meal with the people you love: What could be more satisfying?
UNEXPECTED ELEGANCE
TRITICALE WITH OLIVE OIL, GARLIC, AND ANCHOVIES
BARLEY RISOTTO WITH MUSHROOMS AND LEEKS
ROASTED RATATOUILLE WITH JOB’S TEARS
SEARED TUNA AND BROWN RICE CHIRASHI
THAI-STYLE CORN AND PORK SKEWERS
FRIED TEFF AND CRAB BALLS WITH YELLOW PEPPER RELISH
OAT GROAT AND POTATO PANCAKES WITH SMOKED SALMON AND CRÈME FRAÎCHE