{"id":1696,"date":"2005-12-19T21:36:00","date_gmt":"2005-12-19T21:36:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/elitemporaryblog.wordpress.com\/2005\/12\/19\/the-art-of-so-called-side-dishes"},"modified":"2015-09-24T03:54:12","modified_gmt":"2015-09-24T03:54:12","slug":"the-art-of-so-called-side-dishes","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/orangette.net\/2005\/12\/the-art-of-so-called-side-dishes\/","title":{"rendered":"The art of so-called side dishes"},"content":{"rendered":"
Maybe it is a product of our time, a generational thing, or just a matter of pheromones, but I keep falling in love with vegetarians<\/strong>. I spent nine years in their camp, so perhaps I\u2019m predisposed. I may dally with a meat-and-potatoes man, but fate has it that my love is meant for herbivores only. One might argue that my sample size of two is too small for statistical significance, but it\u2019s all I intend to have, and that\u2019s significant enough for me. The first man to win my cooing and swooning was a devout vegan with the bumper stickers to show for it, and together we lasted for three meatless\u2014if occasionally buttery, and blissful\u2014years. The second has, in the twenty-four years since his birth, not once eaten meat, but his palate has ventured farther than most ardent omnivores. I refer, of course, to my wonderfully food-obsessed New Yorker<\/a>. If push came to shove, I\u2019d take him over a plate of sausage any day, and as you know, dear reader, that is saying a lot<\/a>.<\/p>\n But no amount of love can change a cold, hard fact: the holidays are a lonely time to be a vegetarian<\/strong>. With a turkey here and a roost goose there, here a tenderloin, there a spiral-sliced ham, everywhere a canap\u00e9 involving caviar or crustaceans, December can be a cold, mean month. There is Tofurky for the brave, but faced with such odds, the braver will abstain. There are mashed potatoes, breads, biscuits, and yams this way or that, but no matter how many starches on the plate, they do not a meal make. All too often, a table set around meat\u2014as most holiday tables are\u2014looks a little off-kilter when its fleshly centerpiece is removed. A well-stocked plate has an intrinsic balance, an organization that depends on a variety of flavors and textures, a nebulous something that lands softly but satisfyingly on the tongue. So while I am solidly a meat-eating girl, the love of a good vegetarian has taught me a keen respect for the art of so-called side dishes<\/strong>, the sides that make a main meat irrelevant. When I say side dish, I mean creamy, garlicky, herb-flecked white beans<\/strong>.<\/p>\n<\/a>
Though humble to the eye, this silky, lusty pur\u00e9e sings in the mouth. Unabashedly aromatic with garlic, olive oil, rosemary, and sage, it perfumes the entire kitchen with a warm and welcome mid-winter rush of fresh herbs<\/strong>. These beans have appeared at my family\u2019s Christmas parties and its bat mitzvahs\u2014a testament, one could say, to our interfaith gourmandism, but more accurately, to this pur\u00e9e\u2019s universal appeal. On the plate, it plays well with pork, beef, or poultry but is sturdy enough to take center stage among herbivores, carnivores, and those in between. It\u2019s good enough for the love of a good vegetarian, and as you know, dear reader, that is saying a lot.<\/p>\n