“By the beginning of the 18th century . . . all the arguments which were to sustain modem vegetarianism were in circulation.” — Keith Thomas, “Man and the Natural World,” 1983
These arguments were: that slaughtering animals has a brutalizing effect on human behavior; that consuming meat is bad for the health; that it inflicts untold suffering on humans’ fellow creatures; that it is simply wrong to kill any animals at all (the dominant view of theologians from the Renaissance on was, and I believe still is, that animals were created by God for the benefit of mankind).
A more recent argument for vegetarianism, one held by two members of our family, is economic: that stockbreeding is an elitist, wasteful form of agriculture compared with arable farming, which produces far more food per acre. Of course the masses, upon which this ideological vegetarianism would be wreaked, would for the most part prefer a good, thick steak. One of our “wrong-to-kill-any-animals-at-all” daughters was home recently with a veggie pal, thus forcing me to give much more thought to our menus.
The various degrees of vegetarians in our family always insist that I go to no special trouble — they’ll eat around the edges of the meal — but in practice this doesn’t work. Maybe it’s lack of protein, or something else, but veggies seem to have huge appetites and immense bowls of salads, vegetables, and pastas have to be set out. An alarming amount of bread (whole wheat, sprouted wheat, sunflower seed, etc.) is consumed, but one of the veggies has given up all cheese (cholesterol-conscious at 24) and another won’t eat anything that has been cooked in an aluminum pot (this is a superstition I thought had perished around 1918).
My husband is a confirmed carnivore who becomes cross at the sight of salad more than twice a week. Food crotchets irritate me, but I don’t mind a spot of vegetarianism occasionally — in fact during the height of our great local produce season, which is now, we often go meatless but not for any special reason. Our vegetarians are, for the most part, innocent of knowledge of cookery (which may be the reason they are unaware of how much bother they are) but are willing shuckers of corn and snappers of beans.
Salsa Al Pesto
It has been more than two decades since I first wrote about this famous basil sauce and it has grown in popularity to become almost as common in New York and Los Angeles as it is in its native Genoa. As pignoli (pine nuts) have become astoundingly expensive ($17.50 a pound), 1 substitute walnuts with a very good result. Fresh basil is at its zenith, and this is a good time to make up some pesto to freeze for winter use. Serves four.
1 bunch fresh basil (about 1 cup lightly packed leaves)
2 large cloves garlic
1/2 cup English walnut pieces
Pinch of salt
3 Tbsp. freshly grated Parmesan or Romano
1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan
As this sauce is uncooked, it is especially vital to use the freshest and best ingredients. About one tablespoon of pesto per serving of pasta is enough.
Pick off the leaves and measure them to be sure you have at least one cup (a bit more won’t matter). Pulverize the garlic in a food processor, then add the walnuts and pulse the machine about four times. Add the basil, salt, three tablespoons of Parmesan or Romano, and the olive oil. Blend by pulsing the processor, scraping down the workbowl at least once. Use the sauce at once or freeze it — basil leaves turn dark quickly, though this doesn’t affect flavor. I once tried blanching the leaves to retain their bright green, but unfortunately too much basil pungency got lost in the process. Pass the extra grated Parmesan at the table.
Green Bean and Garbanzo Salad
This combination of fresh haricot beans and dried garbanzos (chickpeas) is beautiful, nutritious, and delicious. Even the crankiest of eaters will find nothing to object to. Buy the longest, thinnest, freshly picked beans you can find at a farm stand. Serves eight to 10.
10 ozs. dried garbanzos
2 tsp. coarse salt
2 lbs. tender, young green beans
2 Tbsp. minced fresh parsley
2 Tbsp. minced scallions with some green
Vinaigrette dressing:
1 Tbsp. white wine vinegar
1 tsp. coarse salt
1 tsp. freshly milled white pepper
2/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil
Rinse and drain the garbanzos, then cover them with about three inches of cold water and soak them overnight. The next morning pour off the water, and add fresh cool water to cover by two inches. Do not add salt or the beans will stay hard. Bring to a boil and simmer about one-and-a-half hours. Add salt and continue cooking until the legumes are tender, about 30 minutes longer — test by eating one. ( This can, of course be done a day or so in advance as long as the beans are refrigerated in their liquid.) Cool and drain the garbanzos. Add to them the parsley, scallions, and about half the vinaigrette. Toss well and set aside.
Top and tail the green beans, then toss them into a large pot of boiling, salted water. When the water returns to a boil, reduce heat to medium and boil about two minutes. 'Pest bite a bean — it should not taste starchy or “hot-raw,” in the immortal words of Julia Child. Drain the beans, spray them lightly with very cold water to halt the cooking, drain, and spread them out to cool on a large tray or pan. When you are ready to serve, put the garbanzos in the center of a large, shallow bowl. Toss the green beans with the remaining vinaigrette and arrange them around the garbanzos. You can’t dress the green beans in advance (and it is best not to refrigerate them as they lose flavor) because the acid in the vinegar creates unlovely blotches in the color.
Piquant Lentil Salad
To make a main course salad for vegetarians I’ve added some hardboiled eggs, which you can omit if the salad is only part of a carnivore’s meal. This amount serves about eight people or four vegetarians.
1 lb. brown lentils
1 bay leaf
2 tsp. coarse salt
1 medium-size white vidalia onion, chopped
1 small hot green chili, seeded and minced
2 Tbsp. fresh marjoram or coriander, minced
2 cloves garlic, pulverized
1 Tbsp. fresh lime juice
5 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
Salt to taste
4 hard-boiled eggs
Wash and pick over the lentils — sometimes there are little bits of stone, but not often. Put them to simmer with enough cold water to cover by three inches, the bay leaf, and the two teaspoons of salt. Cover and cook them about 25 minutes, or until tender but still firm and shapely. Drain and cool to lukewarm, then add the onions, chili, and herb. Whisk the garlic, lime juice, and olive oil together, and season to taste with salt. Pour this over the salad and mix carefully with your hands so that the lentils aren't crushed. Arrange on a platter or shallow bowl, and decorate with the eggs, quartered.
