Cucumber and Radish Escabeche

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It is a myth that there are no seasons in southern California. There may not be the four seasons as those are defined by some weather watchers, but our seasonal transits are no less powerful for their subtlety. Summertime haze spreads over city block and beach stretch alike, as citizens from surfer to Valley Girl, from seagull to cancer the crab, jockey for preferred position in the golden sunshine. Autumn creeps in as wisps of chill air rolling in from the Pacific, sparkling the nights like Champagne bubbles tickle leo's evolved palate. Winter evenings arrive early, with surprising blasts of cold that regulate capricorn solitude with fireside evenings.

Spring is the time of great awakening, headstrong as the season's newborn ram. Gardeners, often as dormant as their charges overwinter, reappear early to tend lawns gone fallow. Pale green shoots of the first bulbs clamor for attention, from perfume-heavy hyacinth to quite differently perfumed garlic. As spring progresses, every plant from the California laurels along the canyons to the boxwood along the pathways bursts forth with new growth. Jasmine and gardenia perfume the sidewalks from abundant growth in seemingly every yard, while spectacular jacaranda and effusive bougainvillea announce their presence in profusion. Oranges, lemons, limes, tangerines and grapefruit flower before setting fruit, and those blossoms send the headiest of perfumes into the air.

I have written often about times of transition, whose power we all feel instinctively in the rhythm of the season. The cross quarter of May Day marks the midpoint towards summer, in the arc that began with the quarter of the Spring Equinox and will culminate on the quarter of the Summer Solstice. Right now, beauty and life are all around us, as fulsome as the dance around the maypole. Plantings that began as the glimmer of hope at Candlemas, that emerged as tendrils and buds at the Equinox, are now in full growth. Some of it is ready to be harvested. We have already gathered our first armful of cucumbers, pinched off fragrant leaves of basil, stolen a few sweet cherrytomatoes from the vines winding around the rock wall.

These earliest harvests provide great connection to spring's arrival at its full power. When we cook and eat seasonally, not only are we taking advantage of available bounty, we are aligning body and spirit with the natural rhythm of Mother Earth. We are part, and we partake. Here is a quick, easy recipe for showcasing the arrival of the spring harvest: a bright escabeche of the first vegetables – cucumbers fresh from the vine, radishes just dug from the earth, limes plucked off of a nearby tree. It couldn't be simpler or more attuned to the season, but if you don't grow your own vegetables, all of the ingredients should be readily available at the farmer's market or supermarket. That bounty, and along with utility and gratitude, is always in season.

Cucumber and Radish Escabeche

A mandolin slicer is a good tool for kitchens where it is safe to have them. Always follow the instructions, including using the guard and a cut-resistant food preparation glove. For knife and cutting board care and safe usage, click here.

2 new cucumbers

2 bunches radishes

1 small red onion

2 limes

Coarse sea salt

2 hours before serving

1. Position an in-sink colander in place.
2. Peel the cucumbers so that no green remains. Cut away and discard the stem and blossom ends. Cut each cucumber lengthways into half. Use a spoon (a grapefruit spoon is ideal) to scrape down and discard the pith and seeds from each half.
3. Position each cucumber half cut-side down on a cutting board reserved for vegetables. Safely use a paring knife to cut across each half to form thin half-moons. Note: Do not use the mandolin to slice the cucumber unless the instructions for the mandolin specifically state that it is safe to do so.
4. Transfer the thinly sliced cucumber to the in-sink colander. Lightly sprinkle the cucumbers with salt.
5. Remove each radish from the bunch. Wash the radishes under a thin stream of cool water.
6. Cut away and discard the stem and blossom ends of each radish. Working safely and carefully, use a paring knife to cut each radish into thin coins. Note: Do not use the mandolin to slice the radishes unless the instructions for the mandolin specifically state that it is safe to do so.
7. Transfer the thinly sliced radishes to the in-sink colander. Lightly sprinkle the radishes with salt.
8. Cover the salted vegetables in the colander loosely with a paper towel. 
9. Let the salted vegetables drain 1 hour.

1 hour before serving

1. Peel the red onion. Cut away and discard the stem and blossom ends.
2. Position the mandolin onto a non-skid surface. Put on a food-safe cut-resistant glove.
3. Put the mandolin guard into place and follow the instructions to cut about half of the onion into paper thin slices.
4. Place the mandolin and other sharp edges safely aside for safe cleaning.
5. Remove the paper towel from the colander. Gently shake the colander to express as much liquid as possible.
6. Transfer the shaved onion to the colander. Use a silicon spatula to toss the vegetables together.
7. Juice 1 lime into a glass or ceramic bowl, working over a sieve to catch seeds and pith if any.
8. Transfer the salted vegetables to the bowl containing the lime juice.
9. Juice half of the second lime over the vegetables. Mix the vegetable-lime juice thoroughly, and taste for seasoning. It should taste tart and salty without overpowering the fresh vegetable flavor. If warranted, juice the remaining lime into the bowl.
10. Cover the bowl with its lid or plastic wrap. Refrigerate for one hour before serving.

Resources

Cutting Boards and Knives

Kitchen Tools

Spring Vegetable Soup