Savory Rutabaga Tart
When I was in grad school in Madison, Wisconsin, I was introduced to Scandinavian culture.
Which means I was introduced to white food: its color, not its ethnic derivation--although. . . .
For a real culture shock, we'd go to a Lutheran church out in the countryside and attend a lutefisk dinner: think of eating at 5:30, singing hymns while you wait in line, and sitting down to fish jelly.
If you don't know lutefisk, let's just say it's an acquired taste: fish preserved in lye, then rinsed and resoaked to remove the poison, all before being cooked until gelatinous. Think of warm fish Jell-O: giggly, very pungent, and very white--undoubtedly that last to match the vegetables on the plate (turnips, potatoes, etc.) You pour melted butter on the whole thing just to give it some color.
Those Scandinavian dinners were one of the first places I tasted the lowly rutabaga, another white thing on the plate. In some local grocery stores, they were called "yellow turnips" or "wax turnips." And on some menus, they were called "Swedes," as in a side dish of "mashed Swedes." (No, thanks. I prefer mashed Danes.)
To be honest, I fell in love with rutabagas--and not just because of the contrast with the lutefisk. I grew to love their delicate but mustardy bite, their creamy richness.
All these years later, Bruce and I still eat plenty of rutabagas, especially in the winter. A few weeks ago, he made this savory rutabaga tart to go alongside a roast at a dinner party. It was just the thing! So tasty, so velvety, a little bit in the nose. We scarfed it down.
I hope you'll enjoy it, too.
Whisk together a spice-and-thickening mixture: 1 tablespoon (8 grams) cornstarch, 1 teaspoon (2 grams) ground coriander, 1/2 teaspoon (1 gram) ground ginger, and 1/2 teaspoon (a generous pinch) salt.
Stir in 1 1/2 (23 ml) tablespoons cider vinegar, 1 tablespoon (15 ml) Dijon mustard, 1 tablespoon (15 ml) maple syrup, and 1 tablespoon (15 ml) roasted nut oil (Bruce used toasted walnut oil, but you could use pecan or hazelnut as well).
Position the rack in the center of the oven and preheat the oven to 400F (205C).
Lline an 8-inch (20-cm) cake pan with foil, smoothing it into the seams so the foil is as flat as possible. Brush the foil with the same toasted nut oil you used in the spice mixture. Brush it well. Don't skimp.
Why the foil? This will help get the tart out of the pan later when you turn it upside down onto a serving plate. The cake pan will slip off and then you can peel the foil away.
Use a vegetable peeler to peel a 2 1/4-pound (1 kilogram) rutabaga. Cut off the bottom so it'll stand flat on a cutting board--then slice the root into eight even wedges.
Now you need to cut these very thin. Use a 2mm slicing blade in a food processor or a 2mm blade in a mandoline. Either way, you're making very thin slices from the rutabaga that will then be built into the tart.
Place about a third of these slices in the prepared pan, arranging them in an overlapping, decorative pattern--because this will be the top of your tart when you turn it out. Spoon and brush a third of the spice mixture over the rutabaga slices. Repeat this process with two more layers of slices--but these don't have to be arranged as decoratively. Just make sure each layer is flat, spooning the spice mixture over each.
Once you've got the tart built in the pan, cover the pan with aluminum foil. Press down to compress the slices. Bake for 1 hour.
Get a heavy lid and press down to further compress everything. If you don't have such a lid, cover your hand in an oven-safe pot holder and press down. Continue baking until the tart is tender when pierced with a knife, about 15 minutes.
Transfer the pan with the tart to a wire rack and let it stand for 5 minutes. Remove the foil on top. Set a serving plate over the top of the tart and invert the whole contraption. Remove the pan; peel off the foil.
You'll want to serve it warm. If you'd like, consider sprinkling it with chopped, toasted nuts, the matching nut to the oil you've previously used. It's a great side dish--or an elegant starter with pomegranate seeds dotted around the plate.
lutefisk, rutabaga, rutabaga tart, savory rutabaga tart, side dish, simplicity
Reader Comments (10)
Mark -- It's such a coincidence that you posted this recipe tonight. My mother-in-law introduced me to rutabagas when I first met her, and we had one of her signature post-holiday use up the leftover ham dishes tonight. This tart would have gone very well with it. It's definitely going on the "must make" list.
I delighted in reading your description of lutefisk to my husband. We both grew up in SE Wisconsin, though neither of us is Swedish. We have managed to steer clear of lutefisk all our lives, and I don't think we're going to change our habits anytime soon!
sounds wonderful... will surely try it!!!
Good Day! I am working my way through your book Cooking Know How - wow, this is a great book! Everything has turned out absolutely perfect except I had trouble tonight with the sauce in the Enchilada recipe. My sauce was very liquidy - like very thin soup. But in the pictures of yours, it looks very thick. Is there possibly an error in the recipe? Or am I just doing something wrong?
Meg and Deb: Thanks so much. And Meg, no lutefisk? From SE Wisconsin? Then surely kringle from Kenosha.
Eden: Yes, the sauce is fairly thick, but it will also tighten up as it cooks. Since I'm not with you as you cook, it's hard to know what's what. But dried chiles do have varying degrees of moisture, based on their shelf life. Believe it or not, the fresher, wetter ones make a less runny sauce because they're still pulpy. You can always boil it down for a bit--or add less broth to the sauce, once you see it gets to the consistency you like.
Mark
Kringle is quite tasty. I tried staying away from the lutefish as well on our many trips to Wisconsin. It just didn't look good to me. I could be wrong, but it's what I call an acquired taste.
I am going to try this over the weekend when I get a chance to get a rutabaga. Rutabaga were my grandma's favorite veggie in the winter. She'd roast them in her wood stove, which she cooked everything on and in. Everything tasted better when it was cooked on the old stove. Thanks for reminding me about this veggie.
Dawn: There is something a little retro about the rutabaga, no? It's just not quite of this zoom-zoom, twittered world. Something of a throwback. But wow, do I love them? And I just found out that they're edible raw--shredded in slaw. I've got to try that!
M.
Mark--I seem to remember Tess of the D'Urbervilles, during the fall toward her ultimate demise, hoeing "Swedes", killer field work in the English countryside. I think they were used for cattle food.
But back to Scandinavians; yes--rutabagas, for Christmas supper. Your dish looks like a delicious way to eat them; they're peasant food, of course; root cellar food. We eat them with plain roasted spare ribs.
As for lutefisk, well---it's hard to say anything about it, except--DON"T overcook it---and the best lutefisk cooks I knew baked theirs. Quite palatable then (with lots of butter)--for those who claim to
like it. I once sat beside a man at a lutefisk supper who filled his plate THREE times--I mean there was NOTHING on the plate but lutefisk, perhaps two inches high in the middle!! I'm just sayin'. . . . Raw rutabaga ought to be a lot like jimaca, I would guess.
Mark, So good to find an old classmate with such a wonderful life! I have enjoyed reading your blog and look forward to trying your recipes. I have to tell you I am 100% Norwegian and before we moved to Dallas, we lived in North Dakota. We still have Lefse and Lutefisk every Christmas. Many family members will have about a teaspoonful of the lovely lye-soaked cod, but I really enjoy it. If you can get past the smell, there is a tasty fish in there. And yes, all the Norske food seems to be white and bland. My Texan husband could not understand why I like to put Rutabaga in homemade soup, but they have a unique texture and taste that I like. He does love the Lutefisk, though! He eats it like an all you can eat catfish buffet! My favorite is Lefse. If you haven't ever made it, you should try it. It's time consuming and tricky but good. Anyway, so glad to find you Mark and now I'm hungry!
Rita: It's so nice to re-meet you, too. Didn't you used to live on Flowerdale? My parents still live on that street! I was introduced to more of Norwegian culture than I ever knew about when I went to grad school--and since then, Bruce and I have had lovely times in Norway. We loved the smoked whale in the Bergen fish market! Thanks for your very kind words.
M.
Great! I just bought rutabagas, feeling empowered by following ALL of your books, which I believe I have. Cooking Know How and Real Food Has Curves are getting a lot of use now...the latter is such a particular pleasure of attitude about eating. I had the pleasure of being Mark and Bruce's neighbor and recipe tester(like having a private chef) for years but I was a terrible non-cook...the boys were horrified, feeding my cats, to discover SPAM LITE in my refrigerator! I got married a couple of years ago and moved to a house with a kitchen. My only salvation has been Bruce and Mark's books, which beside great and easy recipes, communicate a joy of cooking and fun education that has been the real influence. Salut!