Cucumbers, Part 1

Recently, I poured for a guest a Hendrick's gin and tonic, into which I shaved several thin slices of cucumber. This drew some attention within the vicinity, and I peeled some cucumbers from the fridge and cut them into chunks to serve au naturel for the inquisitive. Granted, everyone was rather partied-up and effusive by this point, but the general reaction to the pale, naked cuke was, "Wow! That tastes really good!"

What a revelation!

This unassuming vegetable (OK, fruit) is taken for granted, appearing dutifully in salads with its inoffensive, juicy crunch. Although most things preserve successfully in brine, when we hear "pickle" in North America, we automatically think of the beloved, crispy cucumber pickle. The impressively versatile Cucumis sativus not only survives the transformation into pickle but emerges spectacular. Likewise, cucumbers become astounding when baked. The leap from salad bowl to baking dish may seem foolhardy, but cucumbers are just a thin-skinned member of the gourd family, who put up with all sorts of heat.

Concombres à la crème
(Adapted from Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Vol. I by J. Child, L. Bertholle, and S. Beck)

• 6 cucumbers or 3 "hothouse" cucumbers, usually wrapped in cellophane
• 2 T vinegar
• 1 1/2 tsp salt
• 1/8 tsp sugar
• 3 T melted butter*
• 1/2 tsp dill or basil
• any of the following, minced: 2 shallots, 1/2 small red onion, or 2 green onions
• 1 cup heavy cream*
• 1 T minced parsley

Peel the cucumbers, and cut in half from top to bottom. Scoop out the seeds with a spoon, making canoes. (The long, hothouse variety will have few or no seeds, so skip the gutting.) Slice the cucumbers into strips about 1/2 inch wide, and then cut them perpendicularly every 2 inches or so. In a non-reactive bowl, stir together the vinegar, salt, and sugar. Toss in the cucumbers and mix well. Preheat the oven to 375ºF and let the vinegar/veggie mix mingle, away from the heating oven, for 30 minutes or so. Drain the cucumbers and pat the pieces dry. In a baking dish, toss the cucumbers with the melted butter, dill or basil, onion, and a healthy grinding of pepper. Place the dish in the center of the oven and bake for about an hour, tossing a few times throughout. After you take the cucumbers from the oven, reduce the cream by boiling it down in a small saucepan until about 1/2 cup remains. Season the cream with salt and pepper, and pour over the cucumbers. Transfer to a serving bowl and top with the minced parsley. Whatever you choose to serve alongside—roast meat, steaks, fish, you name it—your guests won't shut up about the cucumbers.

*The last little flair of adding the cream is luxurious but optional. Also, substitute the oil of your choice for the baking if you don't do butter. Everyone can agree on the final sprinkling of parsley.

Comments

[Sarah Jane]

Dan, I'm so psyched to bake cucumbers! I agree that they are amazingly delicious little buggers, plus prolific on the farm, and I'm always looking for new ways to cook/eat/sell them. Thank you so much for your blog, by the way. So readable, so entertaining, and also so informative. Back to the subject of cucumbers, any ideas on the perfect cucumber soup? I've tried pre-cooking and not, peeling and not, but haven't been able to make a super-smooth one. Love, Sarah Jane

[DKH]

Hi Sarah Jane,
Thanks! So glad you enjoy the site. I will investigate how to make the ideal cucumber soup; that's a very worthy endeavor. And I hope to make a trip up to Vermont very soon to celebrate The Great Thaw and see what's cookin' with you!
DKH