Our current Cook the Books Club selection is Land of Milk and Honey, a novel by C Pam Zhang. The story is set in a world, where "A smog has spread. Food crops are rapidly disappearing."1 The protagonist and narrator is a young chef, who
escapes her dying career in a dreary city to take a job at a decadent mountaintop colony seemingly free of the world’s troubles. There, the sky is clear again. Rare ingredients abound.1
Early in the book, after we are told that one of the ingredients she had to be creative with was "mung-protein-soy-algal flour distributed by the government," the protagonist gets access to some strawberries: the scene describes in lush, sensual language the encounter with their "rupturing sweetness.” It is a powerful moment. From then on, however, the description of luxury ingredients and rich dishes becomes monotonous and the fact that a lot of food ends up discarded does not help. The novel has a serious purpose and raises questions about personal responsibility towards our planet, the world's reliance on technical solutions to problems, the role of foods in our life. Readers who enjoy dystopian stories may agree with the praises bestowed upon this one.1,2
After briefly considering to prepare a dish with strawberries, I turned my attention to another food I like that is mentioned in the novel as one the protagonist longs for: radicchio.
I understand longing for radicchio: it's what I did for years after I moved to California, where I could not find it. Then, slowly, things started to change: radicchio di Chioggia for salads became available (see photo below, top right), then radicchio di Treviso (see photo below, the two on the left) and now I can get radicchio varieties (varietà di radicchio) at the grocery stores where I shop and from multiple vendors at farmers markets.
Besides being delicious, radicchio is pretty in all its incarnations. While the better known color is reddish-purple, there are other colors, including pink, green and variegato.
Taste-wise the defining characteristic of radicchio is its light bitterness. While I like the pure taste of radicchio, I also like to balance out its bitter note. In a salad, I do that with sweet salad greens, carrots, fruit (for example, persimmon). In a cooked dish, I often use sweet corn3. I had never tried fruit, so decided to do that. A recipe in an issue of Edible East Bay for roasted Brussels sprouts with walnuts and grapes suggested that fruit.
The results of various experiments is a recipe that is easy to prepare and makes a side dish with a strong personality. The only — slight — downside of radicchio is that its brilliant, distinctive color does not survive cooking.
The side dish is a little bitter and a little sweet, and you can easily make it vegan by substituting the butter with another tablespoon of extra-virgin olive oil.
Printer-friendly version of briciole's recipe for radicchio with red grapes
Ingredients:
- 6 ounces / 170 grams seedless, large red grapes
- 4 ounces / 113 grams red onion, finely chopped
- 1 tablespoon / 15 ml extra-virgin olive oil + 1 tablespoon / 15 grams unsalted butter OR 2 tablespoons / 30 ml extra-virgin olive oil [vegan]
- 12 ounces / 225 g radicchio di Treviso, variety precoce (early) or radicchio di Verona (red or pink variety) or a mix
- 2 garlic cloves, minced
- ½ teaspoon smoked paprika4
- ½ teaspoon fine sea salt, or to taste
Heat the oven to 350 F / 170 C.
Line a baking or cookie sheet with a silicone baking mat or parchment paper.
Halve the grapes lengthwise and distribute them on the sheet. Bake for 8 minutes. Remove the sheet from the oven and transfer the grapes and any juice they may produce into a small bowl.
In a 10-inch sauté pan, warm the olive oil and butter (if using) over medium heat. Add the onion, stir well, then reduce the heat to low. After 1 minute, cover the pan and cook over low heat for 8 minutes, or until the onion is soft, stirring often and making sure the pan does not become dry.
Separate the leaves of radicchio, wash and drain them. Cut them in ribbons 3/8 inch- / 1 cm-wide.
Add the garlic and smoked paprika to the pan and stir well. After 1 minute, turn up the heat to medium, add the radicchio and stir well. Add 1 tablespoon of water and stir well. Cover, lower the heat and cook until the radicchio ribs is just tender (6-7 minutes), stirring every now and then. If the pan becomes dry, add another tablespoon of water.
Add the red grapes and stir. Cover and continue cooking for 1-2 minutes until the grapes are heated through. Adjust the salt, give it a final stir and take off the heat. Serve warm.
Serves 2-3.
In one of the variations I tried, I cooked the cut red grapes with the radicchio. I didn't like the result as much as when the red grapes are roasted before being added to the radicchio.
In the photo above you can see radicchio di Treviso precoce (top) and eye-catching radicchio variegato di Castelfranco (bottom).
1 The book's page on the publisher's site
2 The review of the book on the Guardian
3 From briciole's archive: radicchio and sweet corn
4 I use smoked sweet paprika from Luna Farm
Click on the button to hear me pronounce the Italian words mentioned in the post:
or launch the radicchio con uva rossa audio file [mp3].
[Depending on your set-up, the audio file will be played within the browser or by your mp3 player application. Please, contact me if you encounter any problems.]
This is my contribution to the current selection of our Cook the Books hosted by Claudia of Honey From Rock. (You can find the guidelines for participating in the event on this page.)
FTC disclosure: I have received the table linen free of charge from the manufacturer (la FABBRICA del LINO). I have not and will not receive any monetary compensation for presenting it on my blog. The experience shared and the opinions expressed in this post are entirely my own.
I thought this novel was more bitter than sweet but the salad sounds very well balanced and flavorful.
Posted by: Wendy Klik | February 03, 2025 at 01:59 PM
This recipe represents the book well with the bitter and sweet. I love this recipe, Simona. I love roasted grapes and tossing them with the radicchio is a great idea. I wonder how this recipe would be with chard?
Posted by: Debra Eliotseats | February 04, 2025 at 03:31 AM
I'm *so* jealous you have access to all these different varietals of radicchio. Where I live on the East Coast it's only Chioggia, my least favorite...
Posted by: Frank | Memorie di Angelina | February 08, 2025 at 08:05 AM
I agree, Wendy :)
Substituting radicchio with chard sounds like a great idea, Debra: let me know if you try :)
I hear you, Frank. I'm grateful for the abundance: I guess people here warmed up to the delicious bitterness of radicchio and so farmers grow it. A feast for the eyes too :)
Posted by: Simona Carini | February 11, 2025 at 05:25 PM