René Redzepi, the vegetable magician at Noma, gave a talk at this year's Ballymaloe Food Festival, during which he introduced the audience to the term "vintage vegetable". He explained that he'd come across a carrot that was so old, gnarled and twisted that its top and bottom were united in a circle. His first thought was to see what would happen if he cooked it slowly on a spit, which he did, until the skin was like leather and the inside the very oozing essence of carrot. Soon after, this visionary chef persuaded his carrot and potato suppliers to leave their crop in the ground longer, so he could showcase the wonder and untapped potential within.
This process of simple transformation – of an ingredient changing from one thing to another as a result of little more than the application of time and heat – really is magic. Some we even take for granted: every time we chop an onion and sweat it in oil, for example, it changes from something that makes us cry to something that makes us smile with joy at its brilliantly warming sweetness.
I had my own vintage vegetable moment when this week's slow-cooked cabbage came out of the oven. One small white cabbage had gone in a few hours earlier, with chicken stock and a little brown miso paste, and out came something whose leaves had taken on the consistency of filo pastry: delicate, flaky and paper-thin. The colour wasan extraordinary gleaming golden-brown, and the flavour had aquality and depth that set it a world apart from the raw plain cabbage it had once been.
Braised cabbage
Four hours to cook a small white cabbage? Don't knock it until you've tried it. This works both as a stand-alone starter or as a side for any roast meat. Avoid using chicken stock cubes, because they'll make the dish too salty. Serves four.
1 small white cabbage, trimmed and cut into 5cm wide wedges
300ml unsalted chicken stock
2 tbsp brown miso paste
Salt
150g soured cream
1 lemon, quartered
Heat the oven to 200C/390F/gas mark 6. Put the cabbage wedges in asmall high-sided roasting tray or baking dish, so that they are packed closely together.
Pour the stock into a small saucepan with the miso paste and aquarter-teaspoon of salt. Bring up to a boil, stirring constantly so the miso dissolves, then pour over the cabbage: it should come halfway up the sides of the pan.
Cover the pan tightly with foil androast for 20 minutes. Turn down the heat to 150C/300F/gas mark 2, and cook for two hours more, turning the cabbage over halfway through. Remove the foil, baste thecabbage and cook for an hour and a half longer, until almost all of the liquid has been absorbed and the cabbage is crisp and a deep golden-brown.
Serve the braised cabbage warm, with a dollop of soured cream alongside and a wedge of lemon, tosqueeze over.
Pappardelle with lamb's livers and black garlic
Black garlic is another good example of an almost unrecognisable transformation that happens to an ingredient with the help of only time – up to three weeks (!) – and a bit of heat. Black garlic – soft and liquorish-cocoa-balsamic-like in flavour – is available online and from some supermarkets and delis. This is a rich dish that needs nothing more than a leafy green salad with alemony dressing. Serves six.
25 black garlic cloves, peeled
¼ small onion, peeled and chopped
1½ tsp ground coriander
1 tsp ground cumin
½ tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp paprika
¼ tsp cayenne
1½ tsp runny honey
1½ tsp tomato paste
60ml olive oil
Salt
500g lamb's liver, sinews removed and cut into 1cm x 6cm strips
100ml dry white wine
500g pappardelle (or fettuccine)
2 tsp white-wine vinegar
40g basil leaves
Put the first nine ingredients in the small bowl of a food processor with two tablespoons of oil and three-quarters of a teaspoon of salt. Blitz to a smooth paste. Set aside half of the paste, put the rest in a bowl with the liver and mix to combine.
Heat a large saute pan over a medium-high flame, then add a tablespoon of oil and a third of the liver. Fry for 90 seconds, turning once halfway through, then transfer to a plate. Repeat with the remaining liver (you shouldn't need to add more oil to the pan). Once the last batch of liver is on the plate, pour the wine and 100ml water into the pan. Bring to a boil and cook for three to four minutes, until the sauce has thickened and reduced by nearly a half, to about 120ml. Remove from the heat.
Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil and add the pasta. Cook until al dente, then drain, reserving some cooking liquid. Return the pasta to the pot with a tablespoon ofoil and three tablespoons of cooking liquid.
Return the pan with the sauce to the heat and add the remaining black garlic paste, the vinegar and the liver. Warm through for about a minute, until the liver is cooked through, then tip over the pasta. Add the basil, give it a final stir and serve at once.
Potato and miso tart
I find it hard not to repeat myself when asked what my favourite ingredients are. Miso, which I find slightly addictive, is always on the list – it's made from soy beans that have been allowed to ferment to a full umami glory. Serves eight.
100ml dry white wine
2½ tbsp brown miso paste
2 medium waxy potatoes, peeled andcut into 1.5cm dice
1 large leek, trimmed and finely sliced
Long shaved zest of half a lemon, with the remaining half finely grated
10g thyme sprigs, plus 8 extra sprigs for garnish
3 bay leaves
50g unsalted butter
Salt and white pepper
2 eggs
240ml double cream
30g coarsely grated parmesan
100g soft rindless goat's cheese, crumbled into 2-3cm pieces
For the short-crust pastry
200g plain flour, plus extra for dusting
110g cold unsalted butter, cut into 1cmdice
Heat the oven to 180C/350F/gas mark 4. For the pastry, put the flour and butter in a bowl with a third of a teaspoon of salt. Rub with your fingers until it's the consistency of fine crumbs, then add 50ml water and mix to combine. Use your hands to bring the pastry together in a ball – it'll be fairly wet – then wrap in cling-film and refrigerate for 20 minutes.
On a lightly floured surface, roll out the dough to a 32cm-wide and 3mm-thick circle. Wrap the pastry around a rolling pin, then transfer to a 24cm fluted tart tin with 3-4cm high rim. Press the pastry into the edges of the tin, making sure there is at least 1cm of overhang. Jab the pastry a few times with a fork, then line with greaseproof paper and fill with baking beans. Leave to rest in the fridge for 15 minutes, then bake for 30 minutes.
Take the tart out of the oven, remove the beans and paper, then bake for 15minutes more, until the pastry is cooked through. Setaside to cool and turn down the oven to 160C/320F/gas mark 2½.
Put the wine and miso in a large bowl with 50ml of water. Whisk to combine, then add the potatoes, leeks, shaved lemon skin, thyme, bayleaf, butter and a quarter-teaspoon of white pepper. Mix well, then pour into a medium-sized high-sided baking tray. Cover tightlywith foil and bake for an hour, until all the liquid has been absorbed and the potatoes are soft and caramelised (if there is anyliquid left, uncover and cook it a bit longer). Pick outand discard the thyme, lemon skin and bay, then stirthrough the grated lemon zest.
Whisk the eggs and cream and set aside. Sprinkle the parmesan over the base of the pastry and pour the potato mixture on top. Dot with the goat's cheese, then tip the egg mixture on top. Sprinkle with the remaining sprigs of thyme and bake for 30 minutes, until golden-brown and set. Remove and leave to cool before breaking off the excess crust and removing the tart from its tin.
Yotam Ottolenghi is chef/patron of Ottolenghi and Nopi in London.
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