← Back to Blog

Spiced Carrots with Pistachios — The Same Kitchen That Made the Pozole

Late April and I planted the balcony this week: cherry tomatoes back (Pedro tomato successor and several others), basil, parsley, and a new pepper plant in Pedro original pot, which I have named Pedro II. Ryan came out while I was planting and said you named the pepper plant. I said I continued the name. He said that is not how plant names work. I said that is exactly how plant names work. He watered Pedro II for five minutes without being asked. We understand each other.

I made a big pot of pozole this week, the red version with guajillo and ancho chilis and pork shoulder, because it was still cool enough in late April to want something that takes five hours and the apartment smelled magnificent for most of a Saturday. Ryan ate two bowls and said it was better than the last time I made it. I said I had refined the chili proportions. He said I should write that down. I said it is in the blog. He said right. He reads the blog now with the specific expression of someone reading about their own life from a perspective slightly outside it.

School ends in approximately six weeks. The end-of-year documentation is starting in earnest. I will write the records that follow each of my students forward. P record will say: the child who arrived with a stuffed animal in September and who drew pictures of his people by spring. The child who surprised us. That is the true thing. That is the thing that should travel forward with him.

Five months of trying. Fine. Still fine. Tending the things in front of me: the peppers, the students, the soup, the year. Ryan is tending them with me. That is the arrangement. That is the whole thing.

The pozole took the whole day, which meant there was time in the margins for smaller things — and these spiced carrots were one of them, roasted in the same oven window while the broth was doing its slow work on the stove. They’re the kind of recipe that matches the mood of a patient Saturday: a little warmth, a little crunch, something bright to set beside the deep red bowl. I’ve made them a handful of times now, and they always feel like the right thing to have around when the apartment smells like chilis and everything is taking its time.

Spiced Carrots with Pistachios

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 1 1/2 lbs carrots, peeled and sliced on the diagonal into 1/2-inch pieces
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
  • 1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
  • 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
  • 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1 tablespoon honey
  • 1/3 cup roasted pistachios, roughly chopped
  • 2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped
  • 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

Instructions

  1. Preheat oven. Heat oven to 425°F. Line a large rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper.
  2. Season carrots. In a large bowl, toss the sliced carrots with olive oil, cumin, coriander, smoked paprika, cinnamon, salt, and pepper until evenly coated.
  3. Roast. Spread carrots in a single layer on the prepared baking sheet. Roast for 20–25 minutes, flipping once halfway through, until tender and caramelized at the edges.
  4. Finish with honey. Remove from oven and drizzle honey over the hot carrots, tossing gently to coat.
  5. Add toppings and serve. Transfer to a serving platter. Scatter chopped pistachios and parsley over the top, then squeeze lemon juice over everything. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 185 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 21g | Fiber: 5g | Sodium: 210mg

Amanda Kowalczyk
About the cook who shared this
Amanda Kowalczyk
Week 317 of Amanda’s 30-year story · Chicago, Illinois
Amanda is a special ed teacher in Chicago, a mom of three-year-old twins, and a woman who lost her best friend to a fentanyl overdose at twenty-one. She cooks on a budget that would make a Whole Foods cashier weep — feeding a family of four for under seventy-five dollars a week — because she believes good food doesn't require a fancy kitchen or a fancy paycheck. She finished Babcia Rose's gołąbki after the funeral because that's what Babcia would have wanted. That's who Amanda is.

How Would You Spin It?

Put your own twist on this recipe — what would you add, remove, or swap?