The days leading up to Thanksgiving can be tricky times in our kitchen. Generally, Michael and I don't want to eat or taste anything remotely familiar to the food we look forward to eating on Thanksgiving day. Anticipation.
I've spent the past few days dancing around Thanksgiving flavors.
A few nights ago, we devoured a slow simmered sultry vegetable Moroccan tagine filled with silken turned carrots, wedged parsnips, sliced onions, halved black grape tomatoes, golden raisens, and dried apricots bathed in a sensual broth spiced with ground turmuric, smoky cumin, fragrant saffron, ginger, smoked paprika, citrusy sumac, salt, and cracked pepper.
The following night, I threw together a very traditional sauteed veal scallopini piccata napped in browned butter and spiked with bright briney capers served over untraditional steamed ribbons of yellow squash and zucchini. The kicker? Oven-roasted Elmwood Stock baby purple potatoes jacked up with fresh rosemary, garlic, and lemons. Yeah, the potatoes came dangerously close to eating a standard Thanksgiving staple, but their mere pungent piney purple-ness averted the comparison. Safe.
No brainer. I sliced the potatoes into quarters, revealing their gorgeous flesh. After preheating the oven to 400 degrees, I tossed the lavender-swirled spuds with olive oil, sliced unpeeled candy onions, sliced lemon wheels, minced garlic, minced rosemary, fresh lemon juice, salt, and pepper. I gave everything a good mix and slid it into the oven to roast for 45 minutes.
When the potatoes were tender and browned, I finished them with fresh rosemary and tumbled them onto our plates alongside the sleepy veal piccata
The crisp purple potatoes were a great foil to the piccata, balancing the nutty brown butter sauce with flecks of pine-scented rosemary, mellowed acidic lemon, and roasted garlic. The onions completely melted into the potatoes, providing a slightly charred calming sweetness. Simple. Fabulous.
They were not my grandmother's Thanksgiving potatoes.