Okra! What a funny-sounding word! Those vowels on the outside making it sound all croaky. And the two oddball consonants stuck together in the middle. It seems to take up more time and space to say than four measly letters would suggest, insisting that you pay the poor, dejected thing a little bit of notice before moving on to sexier fruit and veg. Okra just sounds awkward. I love it for that.
And what a funny-looking thing, too! One website on the internets contends that the edible parts of the plant look like Aladdin’s slippers. If Aladdin’s slippers are at all like they were in Disney, then okra is awkward indeed, in addition to being completely charming. Yes, I have a crush on a vegetable. (Rather, fruit.)
I had never eaten okra until a few days ago, and knew only that most people seemed to hate it. I think I heard my mother gag when I told her I had bought some. Apparently the stuff gets slimy very easily, but equally apparent (if we are to trust the internets, at least) is the fact that this is a problem of technique, not with the poor fruit. Like many things in cooking, okra must be prepared either very quickly at a relatively high heat or very slowly for a long, long time. If going with the former, the seeds must not be exposed. If going with the latter, I don’t really know. I haven’t tried it yet!
Which is to say I will. I can’t sympathize with any antipathy for okra. This dish was really good. Moody Food might well be best renamed Ottolenghi’s Cheerleader. Or better still, Okra’s Cheerleader! It won’t be, though, and either way, you want to make this dish. The vegetable is somewhat earthy, and the texture is indeed unique (no slime, I promise). The olives, spices, preserved lemons, and quantities of parsley and cilantro recall the Middle East and northern Africa, so serve it with some couscous, perhaps a bit of rice, or, Mr. Ottolenghi suggests, a bowl of bulgur wheat. When choosing okra, know that it is best when very fresh, so if there is not any at your local farmers’ market, the grocery’s freezer section may be your next best bet. When buying fresh, check that their outsides are firm and unbruised. And look for the smallest specimens. Save the others for Aladdin’s feet. And me.
Ottolenghi’s okra with tomato + preserved lemon
Adapted from The Guardian
1 lb/500 g okra | olive oil | 2 tsp coriander seeds | 1 big onion, sliced | salt + pepper | 2 red peppers, sliced | 1 chile de arbol, broken in half with seeds removed | big handful parsley, chopped | big handful cilantro, chopped | ½ big can tomatoes | some water | 1 tsp paprika (not the smoked or hot kind) | 2 tsp sugar | rind of ½ of a preserved lemon, minced | 30 black olives, preferably oil-cured | ½ a lemon | mint
Turn the oven to 400 F/200 C.
Trim the okra by cutting off the stalk as close as possible to the pod without exposing the seeds. Toss in a little bit of olive oil and season with salt + pepper. Whenever the oven is hot, place in the oven to roast for about 15 minutes.
Heat a large pan over medium heat for a minute. Add some olive oil. When it is hot, toss in the coriander seeds and onion. Season lightly with salt + pepper. Let sweat, trying not to let them brown and stirring from time to time, for about 10 minutes. (If you are doing everything at once, the okra should be done right as the onions are finishing.) Then add the peppers, dried chile, parsley, and ½ the cilantro to the pan. Let cook for 5 minutes, stirring from time to time. The mixture might look very ugly at this point. This is normal.
Now add the tomatoes, paprika, sugar, and a scant cup of water. Season lightly with salt + pepper again. Bring to a simmer and then cover. Turn the heat down and cook for 15 minutes. Then remove the lid and cook for 5-10 more minutes, until the sauce is of a thickness that pleases you. When you are satisfied, stir in the preserved lemon rind, olives, okra, and almost all of the remaining cilantro. Taste and adjust seasoning.
Garnish with that remaining cilantro, lemon juice, and some mint.
Serves at least 4
{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
I love this dish! The night I was planning to make it, the okra did not show up in my CSA delivery, as we’d been promised, and I was devastated. Especially because I’d made a special expedition to get the preserved lemons. But I swapped in green beans, and it was wonderful. One day I will make it with okra and compare.
I can’t believe you’d never had okra before, though–a southern lady like yourself?
I know, Lexi, I know. Like I said, just the word ‘okra’ seemed to make my mother gag. There was no love for it in my house growing up. That said, I now feel like I’ve been missing out for the last 27 years! Time to catch up: Do you have any okra recipes that you really like?