Not ragu but ragout

I can never tell how to pronounce "ragout." Somehow or another, I always say it as something like "rag doll," because I'm trying to make sure that it doesn't get confused with "ragu," which to me is always a slowly cooked, hearty stew. And that's not what I'm thinking of here. I see it show up on menus, frequently in combinations involving different parts of an animal, like a "rabbit ragout" (does John Updike know? Who cares? I don't get him, but that's me).

When I speak of ragouts, I almost always mean what sometimes is referred to as a "vegetable medley." And I won't use that phrase because - and those of you of a certain age are smiling and shaking your head - those big bags of frozen, mixed vegetables that our mothers bought and served as "something different and interesting." The "thought" behind those "vegetable medleys" always alluded me, even when I was only about 9 years old. What thought unites lima beans, corn, carrots and green beans, other than you can cook them all horribly and then get defensive when your children don't eat them? So, no, medley was not going to work.

And, truth to be told, even when done fresh, I am not much of a fan of mixed vegetable combinations. It may be (in fact it probably is), idiosyncratic (who? ME? Idiosyncratic???), but I think that vegetables "sing" best, when they "sing" alone. I really don't want to taste the "interesting interplay of swiss chard and corn" or "note how the bitterness of the kale plays off against the sweetness of the beets." Sorry, don't get it. I wanna taste chard, I wanna taste corn, I wanna taste beets, I wanna taste kale. And when these veggies are mixed, all I taste is muddle.

I WILL say, however, that in addition to what I'm putting forth here, I DO like combinations of dark leafy greens. Somehow, those mixes always taste really good to me. A saute of chard, kale, spinach and broccoli rabb, for example? Hell yeah. Or other combinations. Put them on the plate, and then give me the extras. I'm d elighted with that. And then I'll drink down the pot liquor too. (Of course, then Guy has to be ready for the inevitable consequences of these leafy green feasts on my digestive system, but hey, for better or for worse, right?).

Well, in spring, I do make an occasional vegetable ragout, along the lines of this one. It was inspired, by "deconstructing" (remember: I went to college in the late 70s), the Roman soup classic, "vignarola," and also by learning that Romans do a spring time ragout of artichokes, peas, and fava beans. When I've eaten that mixture, I haven't been too thrilled. The vegetables are cooked for a long time, which is fine, in and of itself. But to me, these vegetables suffer from long cooking. So I make a fresher, simpler one. It may not be to your taste, and it may not be something you want to spend the time doing. But here it is.

Mine uses fava beans, asparagus, and sugar snap peas as the component vegetables. The first thing I do is prep the favas, because this takes some advanced planning. I shell the fava beans, freeze them, and thaw them, and then pop em right out of their skins. I use about half as many of them as I do the asparagus and the snap peas. I get a big pot of water to the boiling point, and put in a good portion of salt. The favas go in first, and I let them cook for about ten minutes. While they're cooking, I take the strings out of the snap peas, and also break up the asparagus into pieces. Here, I don't use the tougher bottom pots. They go into a liquid for stock or something else. After ten minutes, the favas get scooped out and put in a bowl, and the asparagus go in, for two minutes. Out they come, and then the snap peas, for a minute. I don't chill them on ice, any of them, but I do add them all to the same bowl.

Now, this water where the vegetables have cooked will make an excellent vegetarian soup stock, it will also make great rice. If you feel strongly enough about saving it, do it and use it again. I do. In fact, remember those asparagus pieces above, that I didn't use? Well, I put them into the stock and "reinforce" the flavor.

Now I have my vegetables ready for a very quick turn, in a hot pan, in which I've melted a little butter (maybe two tablespoons), and chopped up a head of green garlic (use a few cloves of regular garlic if the green stuff isn't around). I mean it when I say "very quick turn." If it's more than a minute, it's a lot. I just want the vegetables to glisten with the butter. Turn them out into a bowl, and if you happen to have some fresh mint, or parsley, or some other herb you really like, chop some of that up, turn it into the vegetables, and you are done.

This COULD make a wonderful pasta sauce, and as I think about it, why not use it as an omelet filling, either alone, or with some cheese? But ultimately, I like this alongside of a roasted or grilled meat. I'm making it for friends this week, for a dinner that is more sweet than bitter, but does partake of both. Annalena HATES goodbyes even more than she hates canned vegetables. But they are inevitable, and Annalena has a LOT of them to deal with in the next few months. But you know, when you "signed up," no one ever said life was going to be fair.