Decades ago (in my previous lifetime) I was privileged to have dinner in London at Manzi’s.
Known for fine seafood, a lovely dish of fish was what I ordered… Did the waiter ask, “Fresh spinach with that, Madam?” I’ve no idea. All I know is that when my order came there was spinach with it.
But then. THEN! What on earth is this?!
Could not believe it…never tasted such spinach.
Beckoned the waiter. Asked about it.
He gave me a look—Brit gentleman condescending to American young female—and simply said, “Butter.”
“Butter?”
“Yes, Madam. Butter. A good deal.”
Who knew?
Spinach, I’ve since found to my surprise, is a favorite vegetable. Even Peruvian grandson Cameron loves spinach. Of course commercial frozen spinach could not be easier nor more valuable for its companionability. Blessings on it.
But the difference in the gustatory experience between simmered fresh spinach leaves and simmered thawed frozen spinach is as dramatic as between a cup of coffee made from boiling water stirred into processed coffee powder and a cup of coffee made from water slowly dripped through coffee beans freshly ground.
No kidding.
The beauty part is that preparing fresh spinach leaves may take a few minutes longer than from frozen—simply the time it takes to rinse the leaves. Surprisingly, cooking time for fresh and frozen is about the same.
Used to be that when you made fresh spinach from the market you had to wash the bunch in several changes of water rinsing out any sand or earth nestled among the roots, then shake out the excess water, then trim away the little pink roots (admiring their charm). Most recipes advised chopping off all the stalks before cooking—describing them as “tough,” and when the leaves were cooked, giving them a good chop. Big bore. No wonder frozen chopped spinach obliterated fresh spinach leaves from most household menus.
Don’t know when it happened, but apparently commercial seedsmen have developed and farmers are growing cultivars of spinach with tenderer stems…and somehow growers and markets are bundling their spinach leaves with no hidden sand and earth. Maybe the delicate pink crowns (rootlets) are still intact, maybe they aren’t, but no matter…they can be nipped off (and cooked separately—the cook’s treat). Or left intact. No rules in Spinachland.
But it’s a splendid development in the food world when—alas—so much in our lives seem to be moving backward.
Just in case you’re new to this fine place, be aware that leaves and stems are NOT AT ALL TOUGH LIKE KALE’s. Spinach leaves and stems cook to tenderness in a handful of minutes.
Point is, all you need do is open up the bunch, spread the leaves in a colander or salad spinner and run them under cool water, then shake or spin out excess water—a slick of water clinging to their leaves for cooking is needed. Now you arrange the leaves evenly—it can be many inches deep–in a broad saucepan or skillet, turn on medium-high heat, use a spatula or tongs to lift and distribute the leaves so all cook evenly…
Depending on the amount of leaves, size and material of the pan, and your source of heat, in fewer than five minutes, expect to bring the shimmering lot to your table. I wouldn’t dream of chopping as earlier recipes advise—the texture of mixed leaves and stems is most appealing.
Their emerald green is gorgeous.
Quickly sprinkle with a little salt, twist over fresh pepper (and a suspicion of nutmeg is lovely in spinach—sweet basil is another fine flavor companion), then gently stir in more soft unsalted butter than you think reasonable… to eight ounces of leaves perhaps start with half a cube? That much will serve two.
And then swoon. And wish you’d bought more spinach.
