Ol’ Chicory

Belgian endive isn’t an endive at all, it’s a nearly wild sort of chicory known as witloof. This luxury bit doesn’t exist in nature--or if it does, it’s by accident. Actually, we can thank an accident for the pleasure of these vegetables.

But which accident?

The first story has a Belgian farmer throwing some chicory roots into a dark stable (this is doubtless a fable). Weeks later, he stumbles over plump shoots, layers of thin crisp leaves that were whiter than celery’s. He tastes: the leaves have a delicate slightly bitter flavor. The Belgian endive industry is born.

The second story involves the head gardener of a botanical garden in Brussels. Wanting more greens for winter salads, he lifts some chicory roots, cuts off most of the leaves (common practice when transplanting), and sets them in a sheltered spot. He is astonished when he comes across them a few weeks later that rather than the burst of green leaves they’d produced in summer, the roots have given him shoots that resemble elongated crocus buds. The Belgian endive industry is born.

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You notice both stories begin with the roots of the plant. That’s because what we call Belgian endive comes from a plant’s second growth. The first time around, the plant resembles short romaine lettuce or a dandelion, according to the strain. (In fact, in gardening language, these shoots are called chicons , the French term for romaine lettuce.) The leaves can be exceedingly bitter. But the second time around, a Cinderella of a shoot emerges, fragile and exquisite.

Most Belgian endive enjoyed in this country--expensive items--come from their native land. But you can harvest shoots for a tiny expense, pristine fresh, a garden adventure.

Timing for sowing seeds of witloof chicory is crucial. Sown too soon, the plants flower, make seeds, and are prematurely finished. Where winters are mild, sow seeds in the garden in late summer. Where winters are cold, sow seeds indoors in May and transplant outdoors after frost.

Give plants full sun except where summers are ferocious--there, provide shade in the heat of the day. The soil must be loose and rich. You can also grow witloof chicory in two-gallon containers filled with three parts potting mix and one part compost. Keep soil/soil mix moist all summer long.

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In fall, when nights approach freezing--or, lacking frost, when you can feel the roots are about eight inches long--gently pull plants up. The roots will look like parsnips and should be at least 1 1/2 inches wide at the top. Trim leafy tops to an inch and trim off any scruffy root tips. This way, the roots can be stored through much of winter in a cold place in sand or ashes kept moist, and you can grow them into Belgian endive when desired.

To get the same sleek chicons you find at the market, you must grow the shoots in a box, cheek by jowl, buried in soil. However, Witloof Improved and Turbo Hybrid are strains that produce tight heads with no soil on top. For variety, Witloof Robin emerges pale pink. Chicons are most easily grown by planting three to five roots in a nine-inch pot, covering it with another pot that has its drainage hole plugged so no light can squeak through. Keep the pot between 50 degrees and 60 degrees in as humid a place as you’ve got, and don’t let the soil dry out.

It will take at least three weeks--the strain of seeds and your growing circumstances make timing unpredictable. Harvest when the chicons are four to five inches tall, cutting it off at half an inch. Replant the root and grow as before--you’ll get another chicon , though it will be lower in quality. You can even try for a third and fourth. Once cut, chicons are perishable, so it’s best to harvest just before serving. However, you can keep them crisp, pale and fresh for a couple of days in the refrigerator in a plastic food bag inside a brown paper bag, the top folded down to keep out light.

You know how delectable Belgian endive is in a salad. I can’t imagine a finer foil for sunny gold olive oil and California lemon juice than Belgian endive sliced lengthwise in half. Chicons add texture to any mixed salad--marvelous how the leaves are at once crunchy and silky. *

But have you cooked Belgian endive? Prepared with tender loving care, its brisk taste when raw becomes subtle and complex, a blend of cooked romaine lettuce and spring cabbage with a suspicion of leeks woven through. Nothing bitter about it.

Unless they’ve been buried in earth, don’t rinse the chicons-- the leaves are so delicate they can bruise with handling. Cut with a stainless steel or silver knife. Some recipes ask you to half-cook the chicons before preparing them. Don’t. That diminishes their flavor.

A classic French way with these lovely shoots is to roast them whole in a covered dish moistened with butter or mild oil in a 325-degree oven. They’ll turn gold and be delectable, although considerably wizened. It takes a long hour to be tender.

I’d rather gently cook the chicons in a little butter in a covered skillet. The leaves exude tasty juices and the cooking time for a whole chicon is only about 10 minutes--less, of course, when it’s sliced. Season with salt, pepper and chervil or parsley and serve as you would any green vegetable. You can puree the cooked leaves with milk or half-and-half and thicken with sieved cooked potato to make a gorgeous soup. Or you can wrap a whole cooked chicon in a thin slice of ham, nap with a creamy sauce, sprinkle with cheese, and bake until bubbly. Any recipe for cooked lettuces or leeks can be adapted to Belgian endive.

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One more thing. Do let a few plants stay whole over winter. Next summer, you’ll have inch-wide single petaled flowers as a reward, the most azure in the garden.

Sources:

Stokes Seeds, P.O. Box 548, Buffalo N.Y. 14240 0548; Witloof Robin from the Cook’s Garden, Box 535, Londonderry, Vt. 05148.

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This is a superb dish for company. Though it appears and tastes rich, the Belgian endive, salmon and scallops are so low in calories and fat that most of us can afford the luscious sauce. Still, if your crowd is bent on leanness, omit the salmon and use all scallops and replace the half-and-half with milk.

The mixture can be served over brown rice--its nutty flavor and chewy texture are a good complement. However, the mix of coral, pale yellow and ivory spilling from a puff pastry shell is wonderfully elegant (dough for puff pastry shells are in the market’s freezer case).

For a special dinner party, offer bowls of Greek olives, branches of fennel and leafy red radishes with drinks. For the first course, there’s a light consomme brightened with tomato puree and garnished with a small dice of pimento. Since the main dish contains the requisite vegetable, fish and starch, all that’s needed is a baguette of French bread and perhaps tiny cornichon pickles. We drink our favorite Chardonnay or Chablis of the moment. To follow, there’s refreshing watercress salad and some sort of crumbly veined cheese. For dessert, peeled slices of navel oranges sprinkled with orange flower water and garnished with curls of their finely shredded zest -- small crisp almond macaroons on the side.

SALMON, SCALLOPS AND BELGIAN ENDIVE

1 pound (1 inch-thick) salmon steak

2 pounds Belgian endive

5 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter

Salt

Freshly ground white pepper

3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

2 tablespoons oil

1 pound frozen scallops, preferably small, half thawed, include thawing juices

3/4 cup half-and-half

5 tablespoons all-purpose flour

2 tablespoons chopped fresh tarragon leaves

Skin and bone salmon. Cut into 1-inch cubes. This may be done several hours in advance and then refrigerate salmon.

Just before cooking, wipe endive clean with damp soft kitchen cloth. Then trim root end. Slice endive crosswise 5/8-inch thick, keeping sections intact.

In large heavy stainless or nonstick skillet, melt 3 1/2 tablespoons butter. Add endive. Cook over medium-high heat, stirring with wooden spoon until most pieces are coated with butter. Season to taste with salt and white pepper. Cover, turn heat to low. Cook, stirring once or twice, until tender-crisp, about 6 minutes. Turn into bowl. Stir in lemon juice. Cover and reserve.

Without rinsing skillet, add 1 tablespoon oil and warm over medium-high heat. Add scallops and salmon. Saute, stirring frequently with wooden spoon, until salmon chunks are thoroughly opaque and scallops are cooked, 5 to 6 minutes. Add to endive. Again, don’t rinse skillet.

To make sauce, drain endive-fish juices into pint measure. Add half and half to make 2 cups. In skillet melt 2 tablespoons butter with 1 tablespoon oil over medium heat. Whisk in flour. Cook over low heat 2 minutes, whisking frequently.

Remove from heat. Very slowly add half-and-half and juices to paste, whisking until smooth after each addition. Do not rush or there will be lumps. Return to medium heat and whisk until sauce simmers and thickens. Add contents of bowl. Stir gently with large rubber spatula until blended. Bring to simmer over medium heat, stirring frequently. Season to taste with salt and white pepper.

Serve at once in puff pastry shells or over brown rice. Garnish with tarragon. Makes 8 servings.

Each serving contains about:

272 calories; 171 mg sodium; 73 mg cholesterol; 17 grams fat; 8 grams carbohydrates; 21 grams protein; 0.55 gram fiber.