Exam Week Green Garlic Stir Fry

Green garlic, which is garlic before it has been dried, has the signature poignant scent of garlic but looks remarkably leek-like (I just learned that they are in the same family of plants, Amaryllidaceae). Garlic in this form is not sold in stores as it doesn’t stay fresh long enough. As I was pulling stalk after stalk of this plant out of the ground at the farm, then peeling off the brown leaves and removing the roots at the bottom, the air smelled strongly. I got to wondering what garlic tasted like in such a green state. After I placed a stalk in each CSA box, I noticed that there were several stalks left over and my scheming began. A stir fry, I thought, would be an ideal first dish in which to try this mysterious farm morsel. I thought perhaps I could smuggle a couple other pieces of produce from the dining hall salad bar if I could acquire some of the garlic, and make a fine dish. My good friend and fellow farmer got on board with the stir fry project and we asked after work if we could procure a stalk of green garlic. As we walked into the fridge we explained our plan to our supervisor who decided to bless us not only with garlic but with other fresh harvest as well. We then made our way back to campus to prepare for our upcoming exams, toting our newly acquired green garlic, kohlrabi and bunches of Hakurei turnips and kale. There was something supremely satisfying about leaving the farm with my hands full of bounty, the fruits of our community’s labor. 

Aware that our produce would likely not stretch far enough to provide a full meal to all of the friends we hoped to invite to our stir fry, we decided to begin the process at 9 in the evening, after all had eaten dinner. I had recently read that, across cultures, most traditional dishes cooked in pots begin with chopped onions. Hoping to begin the stir fry in this proper fashion, I confess I smuggled a container of onions (and peppers and quinoa) from the dining hall after dinner. After an enjoyable evening of studying for my botany final, I arrived in the dorm kitchen and got cooking. That particular evening, the dorm kitchen was hopping with other students cooking various dishes like traditional Korean pancakes and noodles. The dorm kitchen is more of a social gathering place than I ever would have expected. I rarely find myself in the kitchen without striking up a conversation with other students, often cooking foods that remind them of home. Spam was once a delicacy that I believed only appeared in mystery baskets on Chopped until I met classmates slicing and frying it, all the while speaking of their childhood traditions and discussing the true contents of the mystery meat (it’s made from ham, we learned). I gained a new appreciation for that dish as well as others just by hanging out in the kitchen, making pancakes on Sunday afternoons.

We claimed a section of the countertop and began to chop onions and green garlic. Into the pan with olive oil they went. Next we added the chopped kale and turnip stems followed by kohlrabi and turnip root. I was eager to taste the kohlrabi, as I had never worked with this vegetable before. We were told at the farm that we should peel it, so we heeded this advice. We then added the leaves of the turnips and Kale. As these ingredients sizzled on the stove we debated whether we should taint our stir fry of (almost) entirely farm sourced ingredients with dining hall peppers. I was at first hesitant but I took the advice of a friend and tossed them in. Soon, the dish was complete. Several friends (most of whom helped to grow the produce that became our stir fry) took a break from studying to come to the kitchen and taste our concoction. It turns out, green garlic is much less strongly flavorful than its more common dried counterpart. 

The dish was a success nonetheless, and what better way to spend a Wednesday night than sitting around a table with good company, enjoying food that was taken from the ground just hours prior? I am reminded of a quote from Michael Pollan, in his book entitled Cooked:

“For is there any practice less selfish, any labor less alienated, any time less wasted, than preparing something delicious and nourishing for people you love?” 

One kind soul even contributed his hand picked strawberries.

A respite from the tension of exam week, this short spell in the kitchen, I think, was time well spent and thoroughly enjoyed.