By Fall equinox. The aspens are at peak, which this year timed almost perfectly with the equinox — a rare alignment that only happens when the season cooperates. The east ridge was gold from bottom to top on Tuesday, the way you see it maybe twice in a decade. I drove the long way to the Henderson place just to see it at the right angle. That extra twenty minutes was the right use of twenty minutes.
Tom Whelan's daughter called me this week. I didn't know she had my number until she used it. She said she was coming up from Colorado next month to visit, wanted to know how he was really doing. I told her honestly: he's slower, he's independent in a way that sometimes exceeds what's wise, he's very well mentally and less so physically, and he's writing something remarkable. She was quiet for a moment and then said: I didn't know about the writing. I said: Ask him to read you some. She said she would.
Cole Hartfield came out for a full day — observed me work three accounts, asked questions during and after each one. His questions were good, which is more important than whether he knew the answers. Someone who asks the right question is trainable. Someone who asks no questions or the wrong ones tells you something different. I told him I'd take him on starting in January, starting with the straightforward accounts while he builds his eye and his arm. He said he'd be there. I believe him.
Roasted the last of the garden tomatoes — halved them, slow-roasted with garlic and olive oil at two-fifty for two hours, packed them into jars with olive oil and basil. Slow-roasted tomatoes are the most concentrated form of summer. You can open a jar in February and be back in September for the length of a meal.
The tomatoes were already done — halved, slow-roasted, packed away — but there was still chard in the ground, bright as a stained-glass window, and I wasn’t ready to let it go. Pickling felt like the right answer: the same impulse that sent me to the garden with a canning jar, the same logic as opening a window in February and letting September back in. If you’re already in that mode of preservation, of holding something good a little longer than the season wants to allow, this one is worth doing alongside whatever else you’re putting by.
Pickled Rainbow Chard
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 25 min (plus overnight chilling) | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 1 large bunch rainbow chard (about 12 oz), stems and leaves separated
- 3/4 cup white wine vinegar
- 3/4 cup water
- 1 tablespoon kosher salt
- 1 tablespoon granulated sugar
- 3 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
- 1 teaspoon whole black peppercorns
- 1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes
- 1/2 teaspoon mustard seed
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
Instructions
- Prep the chard. Rinse the chard thoroughly and pat dry. Slice the stems into 1/4-inch pieces and cut the leaves into roughly 2-inch ribbons. Keep stems and leaves separate.
- Blanch the stems. Bring a small pot of salted water to a boil. Add the chard stems and blanch for 2 minutes until just beginning to soften. Remove with a slotted spoon and transfer to a clean pint jar or heatproof container.
- Wilt the leaves. Add the chard leaves to the same boiling water for 30 seconds, just until wilted. Drain, press out excess moisture, and layer on top of the stems in the jar.
- Make the brine. In a small saucepan over medium heat, combine the vinegar, water, salt, and sugar. Stir until the salt and sugar dissolve completely, about 2–3 minutes. Remove from heat.
- Add aromatics. Tuck the sliced garlic, peppercorns, red pepper flakes, and mustard seed into the jar among the chard. Pour the warm brine over everything, filling to within 1/2 inch of the top. Drizzle olive oil over the surface.
- Cool and refrigerate. Let the jar cool to room temperature, then seal and refrigerate for at least 8 hours before serving. Flavor deepens after 24 hours. Will keep refrigerated for up to 3 weeks.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 45 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 3g | Carbs: 4g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 310mg