Vegetables Mornay

It happened Tuesday morning. I bent down to pick up a two-by-four — just a two-by-four, eight feet of lumber that weighs nothing, that I've picked up ten thousand times in thirty-six years of working — and my back seized so hard I couldn't straighten up. Not the usual lightning bolt. This was different. This was my entire lower half locking into a position that was not upright and refusing to negotiate. I stood there bent at forty-five degrees with my hands on my knees and I could not move. Two hours. The crew stood around not knowing what to do and Danny finally told them to get back to work and he stayed with me and didn't say anything stupid like are you okay, because obviously I was not okay.

The foreman sent me home. Connie was at the vet clinic and I drove myself, which was an adventure I don't recommend — every bump in the road was a conversation with God about what I'd done to deserve this. By the time Connie got home I was on the floor in the living room because the floor was the only place that didn't hurt, and she stood over me with that look — not angry, not scared, just the look of a woman who has been telling a man something for months and is watching the consequence of him not listening.

She made the doctor appointment. I didn't argue because I couldn't argue from the floor. MRI on Thursday. The doctor showed me pictures of my spine that looked like something you'd find in a junkyard — degenerative disc disease, two herniations, the accumulated damage of decades of work that my body kept a running tab on and is now presenting the bill. He said surgery or desk work. I said I don't do desks. He said then surgery. I said I'd think about it. Connie, sitting in the plastic chair beside me, said he'll think about it means he won't think about it, and the doctor smiled the way doctors smile when they know the wife is right.

Saturday I couldn't stand long enough to cook, so I sat at the kitchen table and directed Connie through Betty's vegetable soup — the one with whatever's in the garden plus a ham bone and tomatoes and potatoes and corn cut off the cob. I told her the proportions and she cooked and only told me to shut up twice, which for Connie is restraint. The soup was good. Not as good as if I'd made it, but I had the sense not to say that out loud. Some wisdom comes late. Some wisdom comes from the floor of your living room, where you learn that the body has limits even if the pride does not.

That Saturday in the kitchen — sitting down, directing instead of doing, swallowing my pride along with every spoonful — reminded me that the garden doesn’t care about your spine. The vegetables come in whether you can stand up straight or not, and someone had better know what to do with them. This Vegetables Mornay is the kind of recipe you hand to whoever’s willing to stand at the stove on your behalf — creamy, warm, built on whatever’s fresh — and it turns out just fine even when you’re the one giving instructions from a chair.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 30 minutes | Total Time: 50 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 cups broccoli florets
2 cups cauliflower florets
2 medium carrots, peeled and sliced 1/4 inch thick
1 cup green beans, trimmed and cut into 1-inch pieces
1 cup frozen peas
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 cups whole milk, warmed
1 1/4 cups shredded sharp cheddar cheese, divided
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 cup plain breadcrumbs
1 tablespoon butter, melted (for topping)

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Preheat oven to 375°F. Lightly butter a 2-quart baking dish and set aside.
Blanch the vegetables. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add the carrots and cook 3 minutes, then add broccoli, cauliflower, and green beans and cook 2 minutes more. Add frozen peas in the last 30 seconds. Drain well and spread into the prepared baking dish.
Make the mornay sauce. In a medium saucepan over medium heat, melt the 3 tablespoons of butter. Whisk in the flour and cook, stirring constantly, for 1 to 2 minutes until the mixture turns pale golden. Gradually whisk in the warm milk, pouring in a slow stream, and continue whisking until the sauce is smooth and thickened, about 5 to 6 minutes.
Add the cheese. Remove the saucepan from heat. Stir in 1 cup of the cheddar, the Parmesan, salt, pepper, and nutmeg until the cheese is fully melted and the sauce is glossy. Taste and adjust seasoning.
Combine and top. Pour the mornay sauce evenly over the blanched vegetables. Stir gently to coat. In a small bowl, combine the breadcrumbs, remaining 1/4 cup cheddar, and 1 tablespoon melted butter; sprinkle over the top.
Bake. Bake uncovered for 20 to 25 minutes, until the sauce is bubbling around the edges and the breadcrumb topping is golden brown. Let rest 5 minutes before serving.

Nutrition (per serving)

Vegetables Mornay — When the Garden Carries You Through